Archive of Our Own ^beta

The very important thing to remember here is that Nicholas Piberius Wilde is not, and had never been, an idiot. 

And because he wasn’t an idiot, he knew very well that he had the tendency to act like one. So please, remember that Nick had learned, over the course of many years, to never make a decision, to act, unless you’re one-hundred percent sure of it. One couldn’t give in to glamorous casino bets unless they had that ace up their sleeve.

Here’s the small caveat with that: when making smart decisions, one needs a little time to make the smartest decision. Nick prided himself on his quick-thinking and even quicker wit, but that was used sparingly and only in tight spots where he absolutely needed it. All other times his actions came with practiced experience or with a solid minute of planning, at the very least.

The problem with this little thing goes by the name of Judith Laverne Hopps.

“Judith?” Nick snorted, flipping through the record he should not at all have access to. “You never told me that.”

“It’s implied.” Judy tried to snatch her file back, and Nick just held it above his head and kept reading. “Judy is a nickname for Judith!”

“It’s also just a name.” Nick hummed, flipping to another page. “Wow, you do have a lot of siblings. How do you all fit in one house?”

“They don’t all live at home.” Judy rolled her eyes, tapping her foot impatiently, trying to tug at Nick’s shirt to bring her file back down. “One hundred and thirty-eight moved out by the time I could pronounce names. Plenty more have moved out afterwards, matter of fact!”

“Wait, a hundred thirty-eight?” Nick paused, did the math, then smirked down. “Are you the middle child, Carrots?”

“When a family is that big, middle children really don’t matter.” Judy was very unimpressed with him, which wasn’t fair. He was hilarious. “Also, last I checked, we’re at an even number.”

“Your parents are still having kits?”

“Again, not since I last checked.” Judy hopped up on the edge of the desk in one smooth movement, springing up and snatching the file right out of his paw. He looked down at his empty fingers and side-eyed her as she hopped back down. She stopped and looked back up at him. “Foxes call their kids ‘kits’ too?”

“I did not realize rabbits called them kits.” He admitted, trying to peek over her shoulder before she slapped the folder closed with a glower. “It’s kind of a regional thing. You’ll hear ‘pup’ in more canine-populated areas. And the weirdos further east say ‘cub’ for some reason.”

“Huh,” Judy’s ear twitched, and then she switched to a bright smile, “guess there are some things we have in common.”

Here is why Judy is such a problem: she acts before there’s a plan. Before Nick even knows they’re moving she’s already thrown him into a new situation he was wholly unprepared for and left floundering. He wasn’t an idiot, and somehow, without fail, she always made him look like one. It was annoying as it was invigorating, because Nick refused to accept he couldn’t keep up with one headstrong bunny.

Sometimes he still thought he couldn’t. Sometimes it was enough that he was finally willing to accept defeat, because not even a cheetah hyped up on caffeine could surely keep up with Judy. Then he remembered she wanted him here for some reason, so that must mean he had to be doing something right. Maybe he was still too far to catch up to her, but at least he could see where she ran ahead of him. Nobody else could get that close.

This leads into the biggest problem she’s posed in his life since she meandered right into that ice cream shop: Nick wants to catch up.

Nick has never given two rat-tails about catching up with anyone. That was for suckers. Why fight to get straight A’s when you could skim by on B’s and C’s and get more time to relax? He didn’t have high expectations for himself, nobody did for a fox. The best he could ever accomplish in his life was to have fun, so that was what he set out to do.

Judy was not fun. No, she was fun. She was plenty of fun. She was also exhausting. She gave him gray hairs at such a terribly young age. She induced headaches to such intensity they might actually be migraines. She rendered him frozen awake at odd hours as his pulse tried to remember the nightmare wasn’t real, they were okay. She was okay.

Nick had never wanted to fight for something since he was a kit. Isn’t that something? A tiny bunny who yanked on his tail when he was pissing her off had rendered him to the hopes and dreams of a kit. You have any idea how embarrassing that is? To finally go through the terrible ordeal of putting in effort for something just because someone believed you could? Because you wanted to prove them right, and maybe finally be the one animal that could keep up?

This is why you must remember that Nick is not an idiot. He is fully and completely aware of how ridiculous this whole thing is. He is aware that he’s a sucker. He is aware that Judy Hopps has pulled a hustle on him and she didn’t even mean to. He is aware that when Judy smiles at the thought they could have something shared, his heart ticks up a notch. 

He is aware that this is the most idiotic thing he has ever done. But it has to count for something that he knows it’s idiotic, right?

“Yeah,” He said, “guess so.” And then, because lingering in emotional silence made him cagey and awkward; “I still can’t believe your name is Judith.”

“That’s like me being surprised your name is Nicholas.” Judy scoffed, and the moment was gone in a flash. “Of course it is, that makes perfect sense!”

“It’s such an old name, who names their kit that?” Nick knew he was laying it on thick, wrinkling his nose. “Judy, I can see it, but Judith?”

“Can you focus?” She smacked him right on the nose with that folder (gently, which in the case of Judy, wasn’t really all that gentle) and turned back around to put it away. “We’re supposed to be looking for Francine’s file. Which is not next to H.”

“All this time and I didn’t even know your name.” Nick clicked his tongue, watching Judy hop up on the rolly chair and then take another look up at how far the H section of the folders in the drawers attached to the wall were. Even Nick had to stand on the chair and go on his tip-toes to reach it. They really didn’t make this place accessible for anyone under five feet. “I mean, do I even know you? I bet you're not even a cottontail rabbit.”

“Do you even know the difference?” Judy snorted, glancing over her shoulder.

“Well,” Nick glanced down to her tail, and then straight back up because that was weird and God why was he so weird, “I think there’s a fairly obvious giveaway.”

“You couldn’t tell a coney from a brush rabbit.” She teased, then crouched and sprung up towards the H section.

“I really do wish I could understand any of that.” Nick watched, totally not at all tense as the chair went way off to the side as Judy grabbed onto the open drawer, one leg braced as she looked inside for how to properly sort away her folder. “See, nobody’s got to look for the little differences in foxes. You got red fox, gray fox, swift fox, we’re all very literal with our names. Don’t think anybody specifies beyond a rabbit or a hare. Which I’m sure is already difficult enough to figure out.”

“Difficult?” Judy laughed, but her face was all scrunched and she was giving him a hard look through her smile. This was Nick’s sign he had just said something offensive and should shut up forever and maybe go bury himself in a hole. “You’ve definitely never met a hare before.”

“Uh, well,” Nick fumbled and waved a paw around, “maybe not, don’t make it a habit to go around asking species—”

“You would know if you’d met a hare.” Judy insisted, shoving the file back in. “For reference, you’d be eye-level.”

“Oh,” Nick blinked, staring off and trying to imagine seeing a cute little face nose-to-nose with him, “yeah, guess I haven’t. Lotta animals in the city, but not a lot of hares.”

“Most hares like to stay way off in the sticks in my experience.” Judy said, looking down at how her fall had now become much higher with the chair slid out of the way. “Old Man Hazel was our nearest hare resident and all the kids made up stories about how he could talk backwards and tell your future.”

“Sounds like a lovely gentleman.” Nick hummed, already pushing the chair back over for her. “And very creative kids.”

“You’d understand if you saw him.” Judy said, letting go of the cabinet and dropping down onto the chair. She jumped back up once to kick it shut with a loud bang.

“I shall put it on my bucket list. Say, since we’re here and we’re such good friends, I’ve always wondered—”

“If it’s about lucky rabbits feet, I will kick you in the head.” She warned, already sending him a look from atop the chair.

“I am no longer wondering.” Nick shut his muzzle, smirk growing at her heavy sigh.

“Ridiculous,” She muttered under her breath, springing off the chair and back to the open P file they’d been digging through, folders scattered around it as they searched for wherever Pennington was hiding. 

Nick can only be so annoyed at Judy. It’s mutual, he finds, their ability to dig under the other's skin. For Nick this comes naturally, for Judy it had a tendency to be unintentional. Although she clearly got a kick out of the times it was intentional, which Nick suspected came with having over two hundred siblings to rag on all your life. He was still trying to recover from that knowledge and doing a remarkable job at hiding it, he thought. Two hundred and seventy-five siblings.

He wondered if any of them were like Judy. He thought about what the future was going to look like if that was the case. If they had even a speck of Judy’s spunk, the whole world was in for one hell of a disastrous change, ultimately for the better.

When Judy got back to pulling out files for him to skim through—Nick obediently standing next to her and lazily tossing aside the ones that didn’t match their coworker—he figured that probably wasn’t the case. Judy, he found, was one-of-a-kind. He glanced at her as she handed him another file. That was probably the sort of thing she’d like to hear.

He took the folder and turned his gaze back onto it, checking through the name for any typo and finding it useless, tossing it aside like all the others. Nick Wilde was not an idiot, but he was a massive coward. So silent he remained, and at Judy’s side he stayed.

Finnick never quit the business of crime. Judy wasn’t very pleased about this and routinely said she hoped she wouldn’t have to see Finnick’s wrists in cuffs. Nick did not care so long as Finnick did his crimes where he couldn’t see. He knew his situation, it was a situation Nick himself had been in for a long time, and they both mutually agreed that if Nick didn’t catch Finnick in the act of any misdeeds, then no harm no foul.

Besides, Judy did eventually relent to using Finnick’s help on that bust with the anteater. Though Finnick did laugh in Nick’s face when he proposed the trick, a classic one. Nick knew he wasn’t being laughed at because it was a terrible idea, but because of the nature of the plan and who he was doing it with.

“You’re gone, Nick.” Finnick had grinned, chewing on a toothpick he’d licked clean of the lunch Nick had bought him as thanks for helping. 

“I have no idea as to what you mean and have no interest in delving further into that.” Nick drawled, the big fat liar he was, staring dead-eyed across the table, arms crossed. “It was a good plan and it was executed flawlessly.”

“As flawless as a goody-two-shoes could get it.” Finnick snickered. “Bet she never even swiped a candy bar at a gas station.”

“You know something, she strikes me as the person who reminded the teacher of homework.” Nick sighed, because he sure loved that dumb bunny, but he was not above knowing…well, who she was. 

“Uh huh,” Finnick picked between his teeth, “you sure you ain’t just into it?”

“Excuse me?” Nick sputtered, jerking back in his seat. 

“Not for goody-goodies, obviously not,” Finnick snorted, casual as can be, “I mean you sure you ain’t just into prey?”

“Okay, well, thank you again for your help,” Nick pushed his chair away and stood, “it was lovely catching up with you. I will be going now.”

“It ain’t the weirdest thing a guy’s been into, you know.” Finnick kept talking, because he was an awful friend and nothing brought him greater joy in this world than making other people miserable. “Knew a huge ol’ rhino that was obsessed with dating tiny little species. Last hookup was a mouse, if you can believe it. Interesting fella.”

“I am not into mice.” Nick hissed, leaning across the table because he wanted this conversation over with yesterday and was terrified at the thought of anyone else at these tables sitting outside, or heaven forbid the people passing by, overhearing them. “I am not into prey, and I am not into rabbits.”

“Right, yeah,” Finnick did not care, “just the one.”

“You know, you’ve become a lot worse now that I’ve got a stable job.” Nick deadpanned. “You wanna unpack all that jealousy? I know a therapist.”

“If a stable job turns me into you, I’m sure glad I never got one.” Finnick snickered, dropping his shades back onto his face. “I’m quite happy with my foxy gal at the moment.”

“I will have you know all of my previous romps have been foxes.” Nick knew he was digging a hole for himself, defending like this. But he couldn’t let it sit on his chest. “Okay? Maybe there was a jackal in there, but that is it!”

“And now there’s a rabbit.”

“There isn’t.” Nick glowered, finally pushing away from the table. “No rabbits are joining any rosters, alright?” He finally turned away to stalk off, waving a paw behind him. “Be a stranger.”

“See ya, Red!” Finnick hollered after him, and he just wished he could turn and throw his badge at his head.

Nick was not an idiot, and he was painfully aware. He had to be, growing up on the streets. Most foxes have to walk with one ear pricked and an eye on their surroundings, looking out for opportunities as much as danger.

So Nick knew that the precinct had all eyes on him when he walked in to drop off that form after Bellweather was put behind bars. Saw the wolves twitching their noses and the mooses barely refrain from stamping their hooves. A fox only walked into a police station in handcuffs.

“If it isn’t Nick!” Clawhauser cooed as soon as he read the form, leaning so far over the counter Nick startled. “Ohmygoshohmygosh, it’s amazing to finally meet you! Gosh, Judy just talks so much about you.”

Nick was more baffled by the fact Judy had been talking about him than Clawhauser hastily snatching his paw to shake. Were it anyone else, he may have suspected Clawhauser saw the tense air that permeated around Nick and was trying to put him at ease. But because it was, you know, Clawhauser, he was fairly certain the guy was just painfully genuine.

The officers still stared at him. He knew it must have caused quite a stir when Chief Bogo decided to accept him for whatever reason. The chief seemed like a pragmatic guy, there was no way he decided to just throw Nick a bone because he pulled off one incredible case. He ran a tight ship, he wouldn’t be accepting anyone just for the sake of publicity. That meant Chief Bogo had to have seen something in him, and Nick had no idea what that was.

“I imagine,” The Chief had said to him while he sat in his office, in a chair too big for him, “that you’ll put in some effort, Wilde?”

“I didn’t realize effort was negotiable.” He grinned, in a specific way he’d learned over the years. Pulling higher at the corners of his mouth where it wouldn’t show his full teeth, didn’t look like glinting fangs that unnerved prey. Not that Chief Bogo could be unnerved by a puny little fox. Just a habit. 

“It never is. Especially not for you.” Bogo looked down his nose, over the top of his reading glasses as he flipped through papers that were apparently related to Nick in some way. He hoped none of it was his criminal record, the few times he was careless enough to have gotten caught. “Officer Hopps alone has very high hopes for you. And I’m under the impression you’d hate to disappoint her.”

“Well,” Nick unstuck his tongue from the roof of his mouth, because what the hell did that mean, high hopes? If she’d been pleading his case to the chief of all animals he was going to melt away on the spot, “you know her. It takes a lot to disappoint her, really. Trying to curb that optimism is like trying to upset a capybara.”

“Which is why, should you manage such a thing,” Bogo drawled, slowly setting down the papers and folding his hooves together, “know that I will not be lenient on you.”

“Aw,” Nick smiled a little realer, “you do like that little bunny. She really grows on ya, huh?”

“Like a tumor,” Bogo sighed heavily, “I’d start prepping if I were you.” He added right after, Nick’s ears pricking. He disliked the knowing, downright taunting smile on the chief’s face. “Hopps was top of her class.”

“Of course she was.” Nick groaned, weary already at the thought of the road ahead. “She wouldn’t have accepted anything less.”

“Which is why I have faith in you,” Bogo said simply, “because she insisted she’d take no other partner.”

And Nick didn’t really know what to say to that.

Frankly Nick thought the academy only accepted him so quickly because Chief Bogo vouched for him. Judy was excited for him anyway, and promptly dumped all of her books and study material right on his lap. 

She made him read through every single law Zootopia had ever passed, every code that could be spoken over a cruiser’s radio, every rule an officer had to follow. She sat at his shoulder and read with him till his eyes hurt and he wanted to throw the book at the wall. 

And he ought to get a medal, because when he finally went to train at the academy, he read the whole damn thing over again, just to make sure he didn’t miss a thing. That time he did throw the book at the wall. And then he got up, walked over, grabbed the book, and got back to reading. 

Judy tried to prepare him as best she could. And most of it was actually pretty helpful. She never spoke of the academy with any bitterness, just plain fact when she said it really wasn’t designed for smaller animals. She undersold it in his opinion, because he had to ask for a different locker when they automatically assigned one of the top ones that he couldn’t even reach by trying to jump from the nearby bench.

He was aware that nobody else at the academy really liked him. He was small and a fox, he had already expected this much. He got hazed plenty and once they tied his leg to a flagpole and hoisted him up and left him there, shivering, until the instructor found and got him down. 

He damn near quit at that point, but one of Judy’s letters came in going on and on about a bust she recently got. It involved some rats transporting tiny pieces of merchandise and passing it off as food. In truth, the little boxes had tiny, undetectable traces of drugs stashed at the bottom, all being compiled in one place to be mashed together into a normal size to then sell out on the streets.

His first thought was oh, yeah, that’s a classic, because it was. He’d seen that same shtick plenty of times before. It was a trick he’d used when he needed to get a lot of items in one place but couldn’t afford to look suspicious and had time to kill, so he took it apart. As soon as he thought that, there on the page it read: We could’ve busted them so much faster if you were here. Bet you already figured it out before I told you the twist.

Nick got up that next morning, put on the silly uniform, and got right back to work. He really didn’t get why Judy believed in him so much, but he was not gonna make a fool out of her by proving her wrong.

There was this one yak that talked to Nick a few times. He was clearly a bit dense in the head, but he didn’t question orders and could hit like a truck. He sat down next to Nick at lunch once, nearly bending the table in half, and asked: “Hey, are you that fox from the news?”

“Probably,” Nick blinked, “well, depends. Foxes can get on the news for all sorts of reasons.”

“With the, um, the crazy preds.” The yak said.

“The savage case, yeah, that’s me.” Nick’s ear twitched. “It was night howler drugs, actually, had nothing to do with the predators themselves.”

“Oh, that’s a relief.” The yak spread into a slow, lazy smile. “My buddy back home’s a snow leopard. He was real scared ‘bout the whole thing. Thanks for helpin’ out.”

“Uh, yeah.” Nick shifted in his seat. “Yeah, I mean, I can’t take all the credit. But I’ll let my partner know. She’ll appreciate it.”

“Woah, you got a partner and you ain’t even out of the academy yet?” The yak’s brows raised so high Nick could actually almost see his eyes.

“Well,” He shrugged, the tiniest little smile pulling, “she said she wouldn’t take anyone else, so what choice do I have?”

Nick didn’t graduate top of his class. But he didn’t skimp by, either. That was new for him. He was actually pretty proud of himself. The major seemed to be proud too, in that way where she nodded once at him before moving on. The other recruits were even a little nicer to him. Though, he suspected that had something to do with his conversation with the yak and word spreading that he was the fox. 

Judy didn’t even seem to mind he hadn’t been the very best. She stood perfectly at attention and professional as she pinned his first badge to his chest, but her foot was tapping wildly on the ground to the point she had to lean her weight on it to make it stop. Nick held it together until they didn’t have to be at-attention anymore, and as soon as he was off the stage she damn near tackled him to the ground.

“Welcome back, partner.” She’d muffled into his neck, and goddamn that bunny because he sure hugged her right back. If he murmured a quiet it’s good to be back, that was for her ears alone.

She also gifted him a tie. It was ridiculous how touched he was despite it being nothing but a tie. He skimmed his fingers over it and stopped when he noticed something about the flowers. Gave Judy a look.

“Night howlers? Really?” He deadpanned.

“Thought it was fitting.” She just grinned back, smug as ever. “A little reminder of our first ever case.”

“Uh huh,” Nick looped the tie around his neck anyway, because he was going to keep that tie until it was nothing but a measly little string. “Not sure you should be giving night howlers to the predator considering our previous experience with them, but hey, I’m only your junior officer.”

“Oh, hush.” Judy rolled her eyes. “You already had your savage moment, remember?”

“Ah, yes, I remember it fondly.” He teased, tail swishing. “So much blood. So much death.”

In truth his memory was filled with how badly his paws were shaking as he frantically switched out the night howler bullets with blueberries, damn near dropping them all over the floor. It was filled with Judy’s limp leg as she stuffed the bullets into her pockets even though he hissed she should smash them against the floor. He didn’t care there was no way Bellweather would’ve checked, he couldn’t let there be a single modicum of a chance those night howlers would splatter over his fur and he’d come to know what her blood tasted like.

In truth, when Judy had grabbed him by the shirt and told him firmly to sell it before they bolted, he already knew what that meant. His entire frame had been tense and shaking (luckily those were signs of night howler ingestion) before he jerked forward and closed his jaws around her neck. He’d never been more careful of anything in his entire life, the tips of his teeth barely even brushing over her fur, trying to enclose the back of his maw around her, where his prominent canines wouldn’t even touch her. 

In truth when she’d let out that blood-curdling scream he’d flinched for just a second, because she was a damn good actor and it scared the ever-loving shit out of him. For some time after he’d jolt awake hearing that scream again and panic when he felt blood in his mouth before realizing he’d just bitten his own tongue.

He was aware of the amount of trust she’d put in him. He liked to think it was trust. She probably would’ve let any ol’ predator do that for the sake of selling the bit, because they had no other option and might as well try, either they accidentally really did bite her or they went savage and killed her anyway. But he still liked to think she’d trusted him that he wouldn’t accidentally bite down, that he could act savage enough for a murderous sheep to believe it. Although he personally thought she kind of enjoyed throwing the fake animal at him as he charged her, because ow that bruise stung for a while. 

Sometimes he still thought about that fox repellent she kept on her person. Obviously she’d long-since thrown it out, but he thought about what it must mean that she’d gone from carrying a repellent on her to sticking her head in a fox’s mouth. He wondered about how she turned around, wanting a fox with her all the time. 

But it was only sometimes. Because during that week after graduation and before the reptile fiasco, they arrested a mink with some other officers that had broken into the basement of some neighborhood homes to camp out and wait till they were all gone to steal their valuables. The prairie dog family of the home they were in were quite grateful to the goats who escorted the mink out, but the father had stood in the doorway when Nick went to enter.

“Just one last inspection to ensure there’s nothing left behind for evidence.” Nick informed.

“Mhm,” The father prairie dog had looked mighty fierce, and Nick was already internally sighing and giving up, “there ain’t nothin’ for you to snoop with.”

“Of course,” Nick said, mentally checked out in record speed, “if you so insist. Please feel free to—”

“I do insist.”

“Of course,” Nick repeated, tired, “please feel free to call us back on the non-emergency line if you suspect anything else may have been stolen or tampered with.”

“They gonna send you?” The father narrowed his eyes.

“I do not know, sir.” Nick drawled. “Depends if we’re in the area and what the problem is.”

“Hmph,” The father tried to look down his nose, which was a little difficult considering he was significantly shorter than Nick, “I’ll tell ‘em not to send no fox.”

“Sure,” Nick barely refrained from rolling his eyes, already turning away. “Have a good—”

“Is there a problem here?” God help them all, Judy had arrived, ears on high alert and not happy.

“Nope,” Nick put a paw right on her shoulder and tried to guide her down the porch steps, “none at all.”

“If there is a problem,” Judy shook him off and he silently prayed to the great trickster spirits that he may get out of this night without causing a scene, “I’d be more than happy to direct you to our precincts website or mailing address so you can lodge your concerns with the department.” She rattled off, fully at attention and staring the prairie dog father down like she was on the stand. “We have a very fast turn-around time. Is that something you think you’d need help with?”

The prairie dog glanced between Judy and Nick. Poor thing, he looked so gobsmacked at being stared down by a rabbit. Or maybe it was that the rabbit was defending a fox in the first place. He looked like he wasn’t sure if he wanted to argue more.

“No,” The prairie dog finally said, and his wife at last appeared from further within the house to stand anxiously at his shoulder, “we’ve had enough hassle tonight.”

“I can only imagine.” Judy hummed, nodding once politely to the wife. “Stay safe.”

With that, she spun right on her heel and hopped right off the porch. Wow, not even a ‘have a good day’? That was impressive. Nick followed right on her heels at a leisurely pace, nodding once to the officers as they shoved the mink in the backseat. He pulled himself into the passengers seat of the police cruiser as Judy got in the driver's seat. They’d been awfully fortunate to have their own car this time instead of hitching a ride with someone else.

Nick clicked on his seatbelt and was very aware of Judy going through the same motions next to him. It was hard to describe how one could have anger in their movements when they were doing everything exactly right and to the T, but he could just sense it. The general air of an upset cottontail.

“Successful day, I’d say.” He tried.

“Unbelievable,” Judy scoffed, and he knew already she had not cared about a single thing he’d said, “you got bit taking down that mink—”

“Barely a nip, Carrots.” Nick reminded, pointing up to the tiniest little tear in the corner of his ear. 

“—and they didn’t even care!” She went on, ears flat against her head and holding tight to the steering wheel. “‘Send no fox’, that is not how the police department works!”

“Okay, we’ve got big feelings right now,” Nick hummed, “my suggestion is we take the car out of park before someone comes asking what you’re yelling for.”

“Yes I have ‘big feelings’, they don’t get to talk to you like that!” Judy whipped her head around, and Nick stiffened a little under her intense glare. Then she turned back forward and took the car out of park to follow the other vehicles as the officers drove back to base. 

“To be fair,” Nick said in the following few seconds of silence, “they’re allowed to say whatever they want. And anyway, it’s not that they were ungrateful,” He shrugged, “they just didn’t want a fox going through their stuff.”

“So?” Judy scoffed, glowering at the road like it spat on her mother. “You’re an officer, your job is to make sure all their stuff is there. Why would the ZPD hire someone just to have them steal from the people they were helping?”

“A fox is a fox,” Nick shrugged, a phrase he had heard for over thirty years now, “it’s really not that big a deal. They were uncomfortable, you get used to it.”

“Well I care.” Judy grumbled. “Being a fox has nothing to do with your job performance.”

“Kind of does, I mean, I can’t go tackling a rampaging elephant.” Nick shrugged, leaning his elbow on the door and watching the streets pass by. “Seriously, it’s fine. Had far worse reactions from folks wary of a predator like myself, believe me.”

Judy winced, just the tiniest bit. The smallest downwards curl of her ears, holding the steering wheel a little tighter. Nick ran his tongue over his teeth and looked back out the window. 

Boy this was suddenly awkward and sad. Nick curled his tail over the chair a little more, tucked around his feet. Started to open his mouth—

“I’m sorry,” Judy sighed, all anger dissipating in the wind.

He recognized it had more than one meaning. Sorry for how the prairie dogs reacted, sorry for getting all upset about it, sorry for—for what no longer sat around her hip.

“I know, Fluffs.” He said, just as quiet. “I forgive ya, so don’t go running laps in your head about it.”

He meant that in more than one way, too. Still, Judy’s ears were droopy for the rest of the day, and he supposed there wasn’t much he could say to perk them back up. Not like it was an unfounded guilt. 

About two days before The Reptile Incident™ occurred, Nick stopped by Judy’s depressing little apartment to drop off some files she’d requested a few hours before. Technically it was someone else's job to get that, but when she clocked out he knew very well nobody had gotten to it yet, so he lingered back to get them himself and then texted her to say he had it, he’d be over in ten.

She hadn’t responded, but he didn’t think much of it. She was probably working her tail off on something else, so he followed his memory to the apartment building and to the familiar number on the door. He’d been over only twice before—once right after they cracked the case and he was so exhausted he contemplated just falling asleep in a park before she dragged him over to sleep on a bunch of blankets and pillows on the floor, and once when she insisted he had to study up before the academy. And yes, he did remember the route from those two times, what of it?

He moved to knock on the door, then glanced down at the handle. Experimentally jiggled it, then found it wasn’t even locked.

“Dumb bunny,” He huffed (it was not fond, shut up) as he knocked with one paw as he was stepping inside. “Hey, Fluffy, gal like you has got to remember to—”

“Nick!” Judy spun around from her desk chair, holding her phone in her paws—ah, she was on call, he could see faces peering over. “When did you—” Her eyes fell down to his hands. “Oh, you got them!”

“Well of course,” Nick grinned, stepping inside, “you’d have scoured random related articles all night otherw—”

“Is that the fox?” Whoever was on the call cracked through the static, he could see two rabbits faces peering close to the screen. “That Nick? Oh finally, Judy, Judy, bring him over—”

“No, no—one second,” Judy raised a finger to him, spinning around to hunch over her phone, “guys, he’s busy—”

“Oh nonsense, he can spare five minutes!” One of the voices insisted. “You go on and on about this Nick and all we ever see of the darn fella is on the news—”

“Aw, you talk about me?” Nick couldn’t help being a smug bastard, hand to his chest.

“Nick.” She warned, glaring over her shoulder.

“Nick! Can you hear me?” One of the voices called from the phone again, he could see the rabbits trying to peer around Judy as if that was how face-time worked. “We’ve heard so much about you!”

“Oh, I’m sure they’re not that good.” Nick, because he wasn’t an idiot but sometimes he did make kind of stupid decisions, walked over to set the files down on Judy’s desk and peered over her shoulder as she rolled her head out of frame, brimming with embarrassment. “Howdy there.”

“Oh you look so much skinnier than on TV.” The woman of the pair tsked. “Judy, why aren’t you feeding him?”

“Mom,” Judy groaned, and that finally sent a bolt of terror straight down to Nick’s tail-tip, “I don’t have a functioning stove.”

Oh God, these were her parents. Of course they were her parents, what other older pair of rabbits would she be calling? Goodness she looked like her mom—a less rounded, sharper-edged version of her. Bigger ears, too. He’d have to mock her about that later. Much later. Okay, he wasn’t even—he was in some random clothes he threw on knowing he was just going to change out at the station. God help him this was what he got for pulling a Judy and trying to walk right into things for once.

“There’s plenty of things you can make frozen, I know you know that!” Her mom scoffed, then got uncomfortably close to the screen. Older folks indeed. “I promise I taught her to cook.”

“Yeah, but, I mean,” Her dad hummed and made a so-so gesture with his paw, “did she really take to it?”

“Hush,” Her mom smacked his arm gently, then smiled back at the screen, “it’s lovely to finally meet you, Nick! You know, we’ve just been bugging Judy for ages and ages and she just kept being so busy we never got to see you.”

“Became a bit of a joke ya did,” Her dad chuckled, a little nervously he noticed, “if our schedules all packed we just start listin’ off all we gotta do, and then right on the end, ‘and if there’s time, maybe we’ll get to see Nick!’ y’know, hah,”

Judy couldn’t look more physically pained if she tried, paw over her face. Nick glanced at her and she was looking back at him, mouthing I’m so sorry in absolute shame. He was personally having the time of his life.

“Wasn’t even aware I was such a hot commodity.” He said, sliding into Judy’s chair and nudging her over to be forced to sit on the edge. Old habit, the chairs at the department were too big for them so they tended to share for convenience sake. “But hey,” He decided to throw her a bone, “she is plenty busy. You should see her average workload.” He reached over to pick up the files he brought, waving them so her parents could see before setting them back. “She chose to give herself homework this time.”

“That’s our Jude,” Her dad sighed, “gosh she would’ve been such a good farmer.”

“I know, Dad.” Judy drawled, still off-screen and laying pathetically on the desk, “You’ve mentioned it. Often.”

“What? This thing on a farm?” Nick snorted, reaching over to pull at her sleeve, holding her limp arm up and shaking it around. “C’mon, you’d go crazy and start eating night howlers for kicks.”

“Gosh, those night howlers!” Her mom fretted, hand to her chest. “Had us worried sick. You know my brother Terry ate one once ages ago, he went nuts.”

“It works on prey?” Nick blinked, turning to look at Judy.

“It affects all nervous systems.” Judy finally sat up, both of them visible. “But you know, animals aren’t as scared of savage herbivores.”

“Yeah, point.” Nick clicked his tongue, turning his head. “But can you imagine a moose going savage? Terrifying.” He shuddered.

“You know Judy was the talk of the family when that news was released. I mean, a bunny out in Zootopia with savage predators roaming around?” Her dad worried. “Nearly gave me a heart attack!”

“Nah, she had it handled.” Nick said easily before Judy could interject, and instead she stared at him. “Saw her once kick a tooth straight out of a hippos mouth, a little savagery never would’ve kept her down.” 

“She did what?”

“It was awesome.” Nick grinned at the same time Judy frantically waved her hands at the screen and interjected; “It was an accident!”

“Goodness that does sound like Judy.” Her mom sighed, much to Judy’s embarrassment as she tried to lean away and out of screen again. “But I was just so relieved to know she had someone with her.” She went on, ears lowered. “She didn’t mention, uh,” She looked Nick up and down, “but, you know, regardless, a buddy was so important.”

Nick didn’t react to it. He supposed it was a little fair—having a predator partner in the midst of predators going savage did sound like a pretty terrible partner to have. And it was a well-founded fear. A few seconds too late, and he’d be the whole family’s biggest nightmare.

In any case, he was trying to keep a neutral face at the warmth under his fur, that Judy’s mom was relieved he was with her anyway. And it was nice, because: “Looking out for her is a full-time job, I’ll say that.”

“Hey.” Judy punched his arm and he flinched away because ow. “Like you’re any easier.”

“Does she do this at home too?” Nick gestured to Judy while he clutched at his arm. “Show affection through violence? Or is this just a me thing?”

“She’s a harsh lover.” Her dad nodded sagely.

“Oh she used to beat the crap out of her siblings.” Her mom agreed.

“Aha!” Nick promptly leaned way into Judy’s space, who was positively itching to punch him again. “I knew you loved me.”

“We have been over this.” Judy sighed, shoving at him until he chuckled and relented. But she was smiling a little, too.

Nick had said it the first day he was properly back from the academy and on patrol. You know you love me was a tease as much as it was a question he felt stupid for asking in the first place. He knew what he felt, and maybe he wanted to know. It was teasing, though, if anyone should ask. He was only mocking her.

Do I know that? Yes, yes I do.

He was still riding the high from that. Kind of didn’t believe it, but he’d keep that to himself. Had to be cool, he could be so very cool with his best friend in, like, ever.

Her parents were looking a little strangely. Right, shit, audience he needed to act totally cool in front of. It didn’t seem to be a bad sort of strangeness, just slightly narrowed eyes darting between them from her mom and a slightly hysterically happy-worried look on her dad. He wondered what she’d told them about him.

“Right,” He cleared his throat, “anyways, uh, speaking of the night howler case,” He leaned in a little closer, “you make exceptional blueberries.”

“Oh here we go,” Judy groaned.

“You’ve had them?” Her dad perked up immediately, snatching the phone till his poor wife was struggling to get back in frame.

“Whole carton! Judy had some with her when we were off to go save the city and all that fun stuff.” He waved off, grinning easy. “Best blueberries I ever had, I was seriously wondering if they were laced. Not even the farmers market here can compare to those.”

“Well our farm does have the best.” Her dad puffed up. “We pride ourselves on it, eight generations back we’ve kept our farms. Perfected the technique I’d say.”

“How far are your deliveries?” He asked.

“Nick,” Judy warned.

“What? They’re good blueberries!” He insisted. 

“Oh, gosh, don’t think we’ve ever delivered as far as Zootopia.” Her dad hummed, tapping his chin and finally turning back to look at his annoyed wife. “Dear, how much do you think that’d cost us in gas?”

“Dad, no, do not do that.” Judy took the phone so she was the one mostly in frame, Nick forced to the outskirts. “You do not have enough manpower to deliver that far out yet.”

“She’s right, we’d have to create a whole new branch.” Her mom nodded along. “Unless you want to finally take up Sammy’s offer—”

“I am not turning automatic!” Her dad huffed. “That’s for cityfolk. No offense.” He added to the phone.

“None taken,” Nick smirked, “clearly you have your methods down.”

“You know what? I’ll mail you some.” Judy’s dad handed the phone back to her mom, who fumbled with it before sighing as he strode off elsewhere in what looked like a homey burrow. “They’ve got fresh-produce mail, urgent delivery!”

“Aw, you’re too kind.” Nick cooed, preening far too much if Judy’s side-eye was any indication. “How much do I owe you?” Which was a genuine question, because mailing that far out and getting good home-sourced food tended to cost a lot. In Zootopia it did, at least.

“Oh, honey, you don’t owe us.” Her mom insisted, her father calling from off-screen something that sounded like he was agreeing. “Consider this as our thanks. It really does mean a lot,” She said earnestly, had nearly the same look on her face Judy got when she was getting all emotional, “I don’t think she looked so happy out there until she started talking about you.”

“Okay,” Judy snatched her phone back as Nick was still reeling from that. “I’ll send you Nick’s address later if you really want to send something out, okay? And please just let it go by train, the truck is not going to cut it.” She instructed firmly. “Now I’ve got work I need to get done.”

“You always do, dear.” Her mom sighed, but her dad popped back into frame to holler his goodbyes with a wave. “Take care out there. And feed your partner more!”

“Thank you, Mom.” Judy moved her finger to the hang-up button.

“Lovely chatting with you, Mister and Missus Hopps.” Nick purred, and then the call was promptly ended.

“Cheese and crackers,” Judy sighed, tossing her phone down and slumping dramatically against her chair.

“I can see where you get your energy.” Nick drawled, highly entertained. 

“Do not.” Judy raised a paw without even looking at him, almost bonking him on the nose. “I am not as bad as they can be. They wind each other up.”

“Mhm,” Nick swished his tail lazily over the ground, “you do that all on your own.”

“I should kick you out.” Judy glowered at him, then slumped all at once. “Sorry about that.”

“About what?” Nick snorted. “Coulda told me your parents wanted to say hello.”

“That’s because they’re them.” She dragged her paws over her face. “They stress about everything. First thing they asked me when the story dropped was how I wound up with a fox, where he is, what’s his name, on and on.” 

“I’m sure that was a story.” Nick flicked his ear. “Met the guy at an ice cream shop. He hustled me out of fifteen bucks.”

“I did not tell them that.” Judy finally properly sat up, stretching her arms up. “I told them we met at the ice cream shop when I was meter-maiding and that was it.”

“Probably best,” Nick shrugged, “can’t imagine they’d like me too much.”

“Now they like you too much I think.” She sighed, dropping her elbows to the desk and face in her paws. “Now I have to craft a story about how I got you to help me on my first case.”

“My, is Officer Hopps lying?” Nick leaned back. “I have been a bad influence on you.”

“Shut up,” She huffed, lightly kicking at his leg underneath the desk. “Thank you for the files, by the way.”

“Eh, no sweat off my back.” He shrugged. “I bet your hometowns real proud of you.”

He said it with too much fondness, but it’d been eating away at his brain. How her mom talked about how popular Judy’s name had become. If she became known just for leaving down and becoming Zootopia’s first bunny cop, he can’t imagine the stir that happened when she cracked the night howlers case. Not much happened in country-bum towns.

“The whole family was calling me.” She groaned, and he could only wince in sympathy. “Everyone wanted to know if I was okay, how I did it, what was real and what wasn’t, if I had any cool scars,” She slouched forward, head bowed. “Over two hundred family members were all worried and excited for me. It’s a lot.”

“I can only imagine.” 

“Yeah, least your family is smaller than mine.” Judy snorted, resting her cheek on one paw as she looked over at him. “That I know for a fact.”

“Oh, very.” Nick hummed, hoping it’d drop there. 

It did not. “I bet they were really surprised for you, huh? One minute you’re selling pawsicles and the next you’re saving the city.”

“Ah, well,” Nick scratched at his neck, looking away, “they didn’t really see anything.”

“No?” Judy was frowning at him, he knew it. “They can’t have missed it. Are they from out of the city?”

“No, no, they’re here,” Nick lazily turned his gaze over her sad wall decor, “but they’re six feet under, so there isn’t a lot for them to see.”

A beat.

“Oh, Nick…”

“Don’t get all droopy-eared on me, cottontail, it was years ago.” He turned back to her, casual as can be. Her ears were still droopy. “I mean, I have an aunt somewhere, she might still be around.” He said, turning his head up in thought. “But she and Mom never got along, so I only ever saw her once.”

“I’m sorry.” She said anyway.

“What’d I just say? No droops.” He flicked the side of her head, to which she huffed and batted him away. “Probably best Mom never saw it anyway.” He looked up to the ceiling. “She’d have been worried sick.” Then he snorted, shaking his head. “Dad would’ve told me I should write a book and make some big bucks.”

“I see who you take after.” Judy said, which was far better than her droopyness. 

“Con-artist at heart. Me and him were gonna do a bit of a business together when I was old enough.” He nudged into Judy’s shoulder. “Used to say I had a natural talent for it. Mom hated whenever he said that. Insisted I was too nice for the streets. She and him never really saw eye-to-eye on how they got cash.” He looked down for a moment, sighed a little, then shook it off. “Not that being honest got her anywhere. Anyways,” He cleared his throat, pushing to stand up off the chair and avoid the sympathetic paw reaching for his shoulder, “are you going to hit the hay at a reasonable time with all these files, or am I gonna have to babysit you?”

“Ha ha,” Judy huffed, gaze lingering on him for a moment before she dropped it and rolled her eyes, “I can handle myself.”

“Never doubted that for a second, Carrots, but you do have a nasty habit of trying to function on four hours of sleep.” Nick clicked his tongue. “And you’ve got a partner you’re supposed to be showing the ropes to. Can’t teach him very well if you're falling asleep at the wheel now, can you?”

“Oh, now he wants to be taught.” She griped. “Here I was thinking he thought he knew everything.”

“Really? I thought his partner knew everything.” He taunted right back. “She sure acts like it. If she corrects the chief one more time I think he’s going to pop a hernia and crush her when he dies.”

“Agree to disagree,” She flicked his nose, and he just smiled. His mom would’ve loved her.

If Nick thought about all the trouble Judy caused them, he’d get the urge to strangle and shake her silly. It was always a pointless thought, because then he’d see her in-person and that urge would evaporate like water in a desert. The Finnick in his head laughed at him, he was gone for her.

He expected her to rush off to do more police work as soon as they’d brought in Pawbert and the rest of his family. She had work to do, after all, and it wasn’t like he’d made a very great case for himself. Never had he so clearly admitted to every fault, admitted that he didn’t share the same dream Judy had devoted her whole life to. 

A part of him did want the world to be a better place, and he did like maybe being one of the animals to do it, but that wasn’t his main reason. He said it right to her face: he joined because he wanted to be wherever she was. The part he didn’t say was he couldn’t believe she wanted him next to her in the first place.

What he did say was that Judy was always going to mean more to him than any case. He knew that was never going to change. He hated letting animals down like that, but he couldn’t find any point in trying so hard in a world that didn’t help Judy when she needed it. That was fundamentally against Judy’s core belief, that her own very being was lesser in comparison to the greater animal kingdom, that everything had to be done to make the world a better place.

Nick personally thought that if Judy went and got herself killed, the world was never going to be a good place. But he had already wrung himself emotionally raw, so he couldn’t bring himself to say that just yet.

But Judy didn’t leave him once. She stuck right by his side and pulled him along when he wasn’t paying attention. He was almost beginning to think there really wouldn’t come a day she’d ever leave him, at least not for long.

Nick silently thought this: nobody was ever going to help Judy. She wouldn’t let herself be helped, because she had to do everything herself to prove something to the world. The fact she even wanted anyone as her partner to be a shoulder to lean on was a testament to how much Nick had to mean to her, though he still thought she made a very poor choice in that regard. But more importantly, nobody wanted to help Judy when it got hard enough. She was a tiny rabbit on a big planet with bigger dreams, and she had to solve one of Zootopia’s deadliest cases with her bare paws before she was finally taken seriously. And even after that, a simple frame-job by some rich assholes was enough to make her have to prove herself all over again.

Nick couldn’t be too mad at their coworkers, the whole situation was a shitshow. But he personally thought he could find Judy holding a bloody knife with a dead animal at her feet and he’d hide the body with no questions asked, because either she had been framed or the guy deserved it. 

So Nick told himself this: Judy was going to get herself killed all for the sake of the greater good. This is why she needed a partner, but unfortunately most available partners would’ve begged to be put with anyone else or get her killed even faster. So if no one else could keep her safe, then Nick was up to plate. Judy would protect the world, and he’d protect Judy. 

He made that promise to himself, laying awake at night and hearing she didn’t make it on loop in his head. He’d torn up his own pillow in a half-asleep fit of fury. He wished he’d clawed Pawbert’s arm clean off. He wished he’d turned and stabbed him with that venom. He wished he’d clamped his fangs around his throat.

He had insisted he take Judy to urgent care at the very least, as soon as the Lynxley’s were being thrown into the back of the police van. He didn’t care if she’d gotten the antivenom, it was good to check! What if there were lingering traces? What if there wasn’t enough antivenom? They didn’t know! He gave up asking Nibbles to do the same because she insisted she had homemade remedies and he knew that was a battle he wasn’t going to win.

“Oh, yeah, you definitely should.” Gary had nodded along, much to Nick’s satisfaction. “I’ve never used my antivenom on warm-blooded mammals before. It’s probably totally completely fine, but I really want to be safe with you guys, y’know?”

“That is actually not helping my nerves in any possible way.” Nick stressed, all satisfaction gone with the wind. “That is making me feel significantly worse. Judy, we are going to a hospital.”

“Can I finish this statement first?” Judy glanced over her shoulder, in the midst of handing over the vial of venom evidence to one of the arriving officers. At Nick’s hard stare (and maybe Gary’s pleading one) she relented with a sigh.

They didn’t go to a proper hospital. Nick conceded to getting checked out at a clinic, until they heard Judy had been injected with snake venom and then ushered them to the ER (where Nick felt properly heard, thank you very much). He stressed all the way through his own check-up on Judy’s insistence, some minor scrapes and cuts. 

He later met back up with Judy while she sat in her room, having gotten another shot of antivenom (developed for Bogo from Gary’s leftover fang) just to be safe because there had been some traces remaining.

“Although your blood would have filtered it out anyway.” The nurse, a camel, told them, so Judy sent Nick an I told you so look. “It’s just a precaution. Nevertheless, you got very lucky, miss.”

“I’ll say.” Nick huffed, sitting on the chair next to Judy’s shabby little bed her legs were dangling off of. “Don’t hospitals have better antivenom around here? You ever been stung by a platypus? I feel like we should have better antivenom thanks to platypuses.” 

“Not the antivenom,” The camel drawled, flipping through the papers on her clipboard, “she’s a rabbit, they have a naturally high heart rate and a small body, and that was a lot of venom. Based on how long she’d said she’d gone after being injected, and with the trace amounts we found in her blood, another twenty or thirty seconds longer would’ve killed her.”

Nick’s paw, which had been resting on Judy’s bed, promptly dug down and ripped straight through the mattress. He didn’t even notice for the first three seconds, stuffing caught between his claws as he stared head-on at the uncaring camel.

“...good to know.” He strangled out. 

“Thank you, ma’am.” He heard Judy say, and then felt her paw resting on his arm.

“Mmhmm,” The camel looked between them once before turning away, “we’ll be back in to discharge you shortly. Please refrain from destroying our beds or that’s coming out of your bill.”

Judy murmured an apology as the camel left, door shutting behind her. Nick just stared at where she left, and his claws hadn’t left their location.

“Nick,” Judy said gently, “you’re making the rip bigger.”

“Judy I am going to be very honest with you, I do not give a shit about the bed.” Nick spoke at a totally normal and not anxiety-ridden fast pace, ears flat against his head and still staring dead ahead. 

“Okay,” Judy took his shoulders and forcibly turned him back to look at her, “let’s focus on the present, yeah? I’m fine.”

“Uh huh,” Who was he kidding, his voice was so high it was cracking with it. “Hey, here’s an idea: let’s go lay down and never go outside ever again.”

“Alright big guy,” Judy slipped off the bed, patting Nick’s shoulders, “we can go lay down. But we’re gonna have to go out at some point.”

“Can we pretend we don’t have to?” He borderline whined, head ducked down to her level.

“Sure, Nick.” She was smiling far too gently for his nonsense. “We can pretend.”

Despite her gentle teasing, Nick was still woken up only one night later to her calling him at two in the morning. He barely woke up in time to catch the call, saw who the name was, and snatched his phone so fast he toppled right off the bed.

“Judy?” He panted, breathless as adrenaline spiked through him, laying flopped on the floor.

“Hey,” Her voice had the tiniest shake over the line, “didn’t wake you, right?”

“Nah,” He lied, “foxes are basically nocturnal anyway. What’s up?”

“Just,” He could hear her small inhale, “wanted to check in.”

“You can say you were worried.” Nick was teasing but it came out far too genuine. “I won’t bully you.”

“Liar,” She sniffled—oh God she was actually upset, now Nick felt like a massive asshole, “it’s your favorite pastime.”

“My favorite pastime is free lunch with some banter, actually, but the bullying is a close second.” He tried to keep his voice light. “Don’t think about how there’s a common denominator in both of those things.”

“Right,” Judy’s voice cracked but he could tell she was smiling, “course. Love you too.”

“See? I don’t even have to say it, ain’t that show how good of partners we are?” He encouraged, holding back the little flutter in his gut.

“I don’t think that’s right, but, sure.” She chuckled, and it sounded wet.

“Hey, no other partners are taking down two trick-twists in their cases, we’re practically Robin Hood and Little John.” He teased. Paused. “You have no idea what I’m talking about.”

“I know Robin Hood.” She sniffled, but was definitely still smiling. “Isn’t he a thief?”

“Hey now, Robin Hood was the best kind of thief.” He defended, purposefully dramatic so he could get that little giggle out of Judy. “He gave it all to the poor. I was even being gracious and calling you the Robin Hood between the two of us. That’s a high honor, I tell you.”

Judy did giggle over the line, and he relaxed, despite the uncomfortable position. He was smiling, too.

The following lull in conversation lasted only a few seconds. “I’m sorry I’m such a disaster.”

“Aw, c’mon, we’re both disasters.” Nick assured. “Just, you know, in different ways.”

“I’m sorry for dragging you everywhere.” She continued anyway, a hitch in her voice. “And I’m sorry I didn’t say that after you saved us from the red line tube.”

“Ah, well,” His mouth felt a little dry, and he finally sat up from the floor, “thanks.” He sounded lame saying that, but he also didn’t feel right saying don’t worry about it or it’s okay. Twice now he’d stressed about her possibly drowning, so he really hoped he didn’t develop a fear of water over this. “Lucky us you’re not very heavy, huh? Swear you’re like, twenty pounds even when soaking wet.”

“Mhm,” She sniffed, muffled for a moment and he hoped she wasn’t drying her eyes, he was going to feel so shitty if she was crying. “God, I’m so sorry.”

“Hey, hey, don’t get all emotional on me.” Nick tried to gently ease, putting a little joke in there. “I know you bunnies are all about that stuff, but—”

“Do you regret joining the force?”

Well. That was certainly a turn.

Nick clicked his muzzle shut. Hoped his heavy swallow wasn’t audible over the line. Sighed a little bit, turned his head into the phone to stare at the side of his bed.

“No, Carrots.” He said softly. “I never regretted it.”

“You sure?” She sounded so small. Which she was, but, you know, still. “Because you don’t have—”

“Hey, Fuzzy,” He cut her off, “I knew I was getting into some real tough work when I signed up, alright? And you know what, don’t you dare tell anyone this, but I’m—having fun.” He breathed out. “Okay? C’mon now, I don’t regret any of it. Where else would I be anyway?”

He let that hang over them. What he’d said before: I joined because I wanted to be with you.

“Yeah,” Judy finally breathed out, “yeah. I don’t—” She stopped. Then went on again, “I’d dreamed of being an officer since I was a kid. So I always knew I’d have fun just by making it that far, but…” And here she sounded so small, like she was as vulnerable as she hated others to see her as, “I don’t think I would’ve had half as much fun if you weren’t there.”

Nick will never tell another soul how tight his throat constricted. How he curled his tail tight around his haunches and laid the side of his head against his bed, clutching the one thing connecting him to a dumb bunny across the city from him.

“Hey, Carrots,” He started. Felt his tongue refuse to move. Pitched his chest a little and settled on; “anyone ever tell you that you’re terrible for a healthy cardiovascular system?”

“You really do never take anything seriously,” Judy huffed, but she was laughing.

Nick just held his phone and thought; well I’m seriously in love with you, and that’s pretty terrifying for someone like me.

“Someones got to have the funny bone between the two of us.” Is what he said instead. “Go back to sleep sweetheart, we’ve got a big day of bringing some reptiles home tomorrow.”

“Yeah,” Judy said, “we do.” Then, in the same moment that slap of realization hit Nick, “Wait, w—?”

“Goodnight!” He slammed his finger over the hang-up button, then chucked his phone across the room where it landed in his dirty pile of laundry.

He buried his head in his paws and wished the shadows would swallow him whole. God, he had to stop that stupid it’s called a hustle, sweetheart, it was getting to his head. Stupid bunnies and their stupidly lovable faces. He really had never looked like a bigger idiot in all his life. Maybe he was turning into an idiot. 

Maybe that was just what it was like to stand next to Judy Hopps.

Nick, to no one's surprise, preferred when their missions didn’t involve life-or-death situations. When it came to figuring out the proper permits and re-building process of the run-down remains of Reptile Ravine, he was more than happy to sit back, do some talking, and write out some paperwork.

Judy was losing her mind, naturally, so he was content to shuffle her off to chatter with Gary or any of the other animals involved with the process that weren’t in charge of decision-making. Nick was happy to bide his time until he no doubt got stuck with bringing in the two hundred or so criminals he’d released in his great escape. Honestly that wasn’t his fault, it was the fault of the officers who didn’t listen to him and the Lynxley’s for pulling the strings. But whatever.

“And anyway, in my defense,” He complained as he looked over the ownership documents as a favor to Gary, “I don’t remember there being a release button for all the jail cells when I was last behind bars.”

“Don’t say that out loud, we’re in public.” Judy closed her eyes with a sigh.

“Ah, relax, it was years ago.” Nick brushed it off, scribbling down some names. “I haven’t been stupid enough to get locked up in a while. That’s a rookie's mistake.”

“Like writing down zero on all your tax forms.” Judy deadpanned. “That sure wasn’t suspicious at all.”

“Hey, you gonna blame the guy who committed felony tax evasion,” Nick pointed his pen at her, “or are you gonna blame the idiots who didn’t think to check in when they saw zero on a tax form?”

“I think I’ll just blame both sides and call it a day.”

“You're cold, Carrots.” He muttered, and she smiled back.

They went over paperwork at his place. He may have driven himself crazy cleaning up everything, vacuuming, dusting, the works. His mother never would’ve been more proud of him, making sure every corner was absolutely spotless and like it was totally supposed to look like that. And maybe he kicked some trash into closets and under the couch, but Judy didn’t need to know that.

Judy stopped in the doorway when she entered with her overnight bag (neither of them had suggested this would take all night, but Judy liked to be prepared and they both knew it would end up lasting that long anyway), taking a slow look around the room. Then she focused on Nick with a raised brow.

“What?” He leaned in the doorway, cool as a cucumber. “Jealous my place is bigger than yours?”

“Right,” Judy drawled, but walked in without further comment. He still didn’t know if she recovered that picture of his trash-ridden place after he destroyed her phone and he was too scared to ask.

They sat at the little coffee table, resting on the floor or the couch depending on how they were feeling as they went through the paperwork involved with the case and bringing the old reptile families back home. Gary had gone through the town and compiled all the family names they could connect to the houses and wrote down the addresses, which he then used to call home and have his family help him get in touch with these reptiles who had a generational claim to see if they still wanted it. Then, Nick and Judy went through the paperwork to get that process in motion. It was grueling work.

Nick turned on a movie with low volume at one point just for some background noise. It ended up being one Mayor Winddancer had stared in, which sucked up half of Nick’s attention.

“How did that guy ever make it to mayor?” He mumbled.

“Focus, Nick.”

“I can multitask.” He insisted, and still Judy had to change the movie after another fifteen minutes. It was some period drama Nick cared significantly less about, but Judy could successfully multitask if her occasional smirk and pricked ear based on what the characters on the television were saying was any indication.

Eventually he nudged Judy enough to go pretend she was getting ready for bed, because he suspected they were going to fall asleep while working this time around and she was going to be very grumpy if she woke up all frumpy and still in her day-clothes. She complained but retreated to his bathroom all the same as he tried to watch the movie and catch up with whatever plot he didn’t care about. He had already donned on casual clothes that doubled as pajamas before Judy even arrived. He could want a clean house, but he would be damned if he wasn’t comfy within his own home.

When Judy eventually returned, her fur was still a little damp, but she at least looked refreshed (and absolutely adorable in her checkered pajamas) and ready to keep going. Nick glanced her way with a tease on his tongue before faltering.

Here’s the thing: this wasn’t the first time Nick noticed it. The first time he noticed it was when they were flung into blackened water after finding all the missing mammals. At that moment he had been more concerned with ensuring Judy didn’t drown and getting out of the freezing-cold water, but he noticed the odd way Judy’s fur parted on her left cheek.

The second time he noticed was when Judy was prepping him for the academy. She’d washed her face in the sink because she’d been up for twenty-four hours straight despite him insisting she should sleep, and again he saw the strange lines that didn’t seem to fall right.

The third time he noticed was when he got them out of the red line tube. That time he really didn’t care to ask, too stressed to check that Judy was okay and then barely kept himself from snapping at how pissed off he was. Again, he saw the fur on her cheek didn’t fall right.

This was the fourth time. He could see it, three lines of varying length that didn’t part correctly when her fur was wet. He had his suspicions, because he wasn’t an idiot. So he waited till she sat down next to him on the floor before he asked: “”Sup with that?”

“With that?” Judy blinked at him.

“That,” He tapped his own left cheek for emphasis, resting his chin on his paw, elbow propped on the table, casual as can be. “You got something there, buns?”

“God I hate that one, can we nix it?” She huffed, scrubbing her paw over her face and mussying up the fur more. It hid the markings better, but not completely. 

“No can do, buns. Now what’s up?” He gave a little nod.

“It’s nothing.” She insisted, though her fingers lingered by the markings for a moment. “Just a little scratch that scarred over.”

“A scratch.” Nick was doing such a good job at acting completely normal. “How’d you manage that?”

“Your least favorite way.” She teased back. “I was standing up to a bully.”

“Now that makes perfect sense.” He almost snorted. “And it’s not my least favorite, my least favorite involves jumping off cliffs with no backup plan.”

“I didn’t have a plan for this bully either.” She said. “But we were both kids, he was a bigger kid, and I thought I had a chance.”

“Would’ve thought you’d learned your lesson from that, but we both know you didn’t.”

“Nope,” She grinned back, dropping her hand from her cheek, “and I got what I wanted, anyway. So it was worth it.”

“Not sure if I’d go that far.” He frowned a little. “Had to be a pretty nasty kid for a scratch to scar over like that. Think the real term there would be clawed.”

“Then I was clawed, whatever.” She brushed it right off, as if her saying it out loud didn’t make him twitch. “It was forever ago. He’s actually a pretty nice guy now, my parents work with him now and then.”

“They work with a guy who scarred their kid?”

“Nick,” She warned, giving him a look, “we didn’t even think it would scar. It probably had more to do with me having weaker skin as a kid than how hard he scratched me.”

“Clawed you.”

“We were kids, Nick.” She stressed. “It’s nothing now, I honestly forget about it.”

“Hm,” Is all he responded with. She was sitting to his right, so he could look at her scar all the same. And maybe it wasn’t smart, but he’d still swear he wasn’t an idiot when he lazily reached out an arm to brush a thumb over her cheek.

She went still, but it wasn’t fearful. He would’ve flinched back if she was fearful, but she wasn’t. She just blinked at him out of the corner of her eye as he pushed back her fur to get a look at the scar. It was clearly very old, faint pale lines. The middle one was longer than the others, curving down. He lay the pad of his thumb over it, his own claws gently laying right on the line. And still Judy just watched him, not an ounce of fear.

Call it a hunch, but Nick regretted it as soon as he asked with a frown: “Was he a fox?”

Judy’s ears flicked back. He slowly drew his paw away. She still watched him with her head facing forward.

“It doesn’t matter.” She finally said.

“Wouldn’t go that far either.” He murmured, and he thought of a fox repellent as he leaned against the couch at his back, arms propped on the cushions.

“It doesn’t.” She turned to look right at him, dead serious.

It kind of does, he thought. It kind of does because she bore the scar of a fox and even as a meter maid she’d walked into an ice cream shop and forked over fifteen bucks, even if she was a bit patronizing afterwards. It kind of does because she bared her neck for a fox to bite and she’d trusted nothing would go wrong. It kind of does because it still hurt to think of her flinching away as she hovered her paw over repellent, but it put a new filter over the memory. 

It kind of does because, truthfully, even one bad scar should not determine a whole species. And yet, Nick couldn’t say he didn’t get it. Not like he hadn’t been harboring some resentment for the prey that passed him on the streets as he wondered if they wished they could muzzle him, too.

He doesn’t say any of this. What he says is; “Didja give him hell?”

Judy blinked at him, and then her mouth very nearly quirked up. “I kicked him in the face. I think he lost a tooth after.”

“Atta girl,” He praised, and then he turned back to their paperwork.

And then, after only a moment, Judy went back to work, too. Nick thought about Pawbert and he thought about nightmares where he’d bitten down and when he pulled back, all that he was holding was Judy’s tiny lifeless body. He wondered if Judy ever dreamed of claws and saw his face.

He wondered what it must mean that despite that, she still sprang up to meet him each morning like it was her favorite part of the day.

Gary was abuzz with news his home, from generations ago, was nearly ready to open to the public again. Nick had arrived to do one of the routine checks of the neighborhoods before it was officially re-opened, meanwhile Gary was frantic as he spring-cleaned out the house he’d been cleaning for days and days now.

Judy was already there, as expected. Unexpected was how she paced around in circles, occasionally stopping to say something to Gary as he came in and out of the house. Nick figured it couldn’t be anything bad, since Gary looked so excited. Nick was finding his reptile-aversion was getting better. He didn’t even shiver when Gary’s scales made a subtle hissing noise when he moved too fast over pavement.

“Mornin’ sunshine.” He offered a cup of coffee.

“My parents are coming.”

“What.” Nick nearly dropped both their coffees.

“They want to come for the festival.” Judy took her coffee from him, having not looked at his face once as she kept rapidly tapping her foot. “Well, they say that, but I know they’re just using it as an excuse to see me. They’re extra worried after this last case. They’ve been threatening to come out and see me for some time.” She took a sip, then scrunched up her face. “They’re thinking of bringing my younger siblings.”

“And they should!” Gary hollered, appearing in the doorway again. “They can be part of my housewarming party! This home could use some life in it for the holidays.”

“How…many younger siblings are still living at home?” Nick dared ask.

“Seventy-three.”

“God help us all.” Nick took a long sip of his coffee, burnt tongue be damned.

“That’s wonderful!” Gary slithered over, smile so bright it was blinding. “Gosh, that’s such a big family! I’ve only got a little brother and sister, but I grew up really tight-knit with the other snakes in our area. You should bring them here.” He insisted, tail curling around her wrist to draw her attention, so painfully earnest. “The more the merrier. And I’m great with kids!” He straightened up, so very proud of himself. 

“Prey kids?” Nick raised a brow. “Prey kids that are very easy to swallow whole?”

Judy elbowed him in the side. He was used to it at this point, so he just stepped away to be out of range if she tried it again.

“Oh, you’re right!” Gary bonked himself on the head with his tail. “Gosh, how do I not look scary?” He got in Judy’s face. “I don’t wanna look all scary, but little prey animals just freeze at the sight of me!”

“Just be yourself,” Judy said kindly, moving to set a paw on his shoulder before realizing he did not have shoulders and instead just awkwardly patted where it vaguely looked like his neck may end, “people will only get to like you if you’re the real you.”

“Also don’t show your teeth when you smile.” Nick added as he gestured with his coffee. “The fangs can’t be helped, but try not to show any more teeth when you smile unless you know the prey pretty well. Teeth scare ‘em.” He paused. “And the preds too, honestly.”

“Got it!” Gary nodded once, a determined shine to his eye. “Be myself, and don’t show teeth! I can do that.” He sounded so sure, then slithered back inside to continue cleaning up, repeating be myself, don’t show teeth under his breath.

Judy looked at him oddly. “I didn’t know that.”

“Well, you don’t have sharp teeth, do you?” He said simply. “And before you say it, Clawhauser can get away with showin’ teeth. He’s too loveable to get wary of, so he doesn’t count.”

“But you don’t hide your fangs.” Judy frowned. “I see them plenty.”

The key here with that statement was she never saw them in his smiles. It was ingrained into him to smile as disarmingly as possible, as a way to con and as a way to not unsettle others. Frankly when she said ‘plenty’, she was probably thinking of all the times he was too panicked to care about tucking teeth behind his lips as he raced after her. Or maybe she was thinking of the times a laugh escaped him, when it was just them and he didn’t care to look non-threatening next to a bunny who threatened him on the daily.

“Yeah,” Nick took a very slow sip of his coffee, “don’t look into that.”

The housewarming party was a wild one, since it was right around the holidays. Plenty of congratulatory animals showed up, plenty of reptiles from Marsh Market appeared as well to get a proper look at Reptile Ravine since some houses hadn’t been claimed and thus were up for grabs. Gary welcomed them all in with a smile before covering his mouth and trying to readjust it. It was terrible, but it was Gary, so it just made him even more adorable.

Nick was having fun at least. Jesús had shown up at some point and smuggled in bottles of alcohol despite Gary swearing up and down it would be a totally free zone because he was paranoid of any kids getting to it, and also because there were cops around. Nick, despite his grievances, was not about to pass up free booze and filled his closed water bottle up with some. Then he filled Judy’s with the same and silently passed it to her as she was pacing by the window.

It was funny, her taking a sip and then gagging. Nick hadn’t laughed like that in a while, high-pitched and cackling in a tone unique to a fox. Then he had to hide among the clutter and growing animals before Judy could kill him. He wandered back over a half-hour later to get his comeuppance with a punch to the arm, but Judy was still drinking at her smuggled booze, so he’d say it was a total success.

He wasn’t sure where Judy had wandered off when a knock came at the door. It was drowned out in the noise of the house, but somehow Gary sensed it, slithering over and pulling open the front door as Nick leaned off the wall to take a look as to who it was.

Ah. He knew those rabbits.

“Hello!” Gary greeted, getting right in their faces and scaring the absolute daylights out of them, the crowd of young rabbits all yelping and cowering behind their parents. “Oh, you must be the Hopps’!” He squealed, so giddy he was smiling with every single one of his teeth. “It is wonderful to meet you, I’m Gary!” He introduced, holding out his tail and taking Judy’s father’s paw, who jumped as he shook it, and then her mother’s hand, who looked sick as he did the same. “Gary De’Snake.”

“Um,” Judy’s mother finally got out, warily glancing at her husband, “Bonnie.”

“S-St-Stu,” The husband stuttered.

“Bonnie and Stu Hopps, welcome!” Gary shifted aside to gesture inside. “Oh, and Judy told me all of her siblings names so I wouldn’t forget! I heard Timmy got sick and couldn’t make it, sorry about that.” He rambled on. “And may I just say, you must be so proud of Judy—”

“Hey guys!” And there was the rabbit of the hour, barreling through and shoving her water bottle into Nick’s paws without so much of a blink before she was right there at the door, gently nudging Gary to the side before one of her little siblings fainted. “I told you to call me when you made it.”

Her parents chorused her name in delight, momentarily forgetting about their terror of the pit viper in the doorway as they hurried to hug her. Nick chuckled, taking one last swig of his ‘water’ bottle before setting it high up on the windowsill with Judy’s. Even a number of her siblings raced up to join in the hug, then immediately got to bouncing around and talking a million miles a minute. This was clearly normal, because neither Judy nor her parents so much as blinked.

Her parents rambled on, looking her over and absolutely thrilled at just getting to see her again.

Nick smiled at the sight, briefly distracted by Gary slithering out of the way and insisting some of Judy’s siblings come inside. A few were brave enough to approach the venomous snake, and when he smiled at them with all his teeth, a few dared smile back before ducking inside. The rest all started to gather around him in fear and awe, and soon Gary was also bombarded with questions. 

To Gary’s credit, he was answering them all like a pro. Didn’t even flinch when one of the kits reached out to touch his scales, just turned his body to let her reach easier and instructed to be careful, and hey, you know, he never really got to feel if rabbit fur was as soft as it looked, could he maybe find out, too? Nick knew that was a lie, but it was a white one.

When he focused back in on Judy, she was already taking her parents inside, holding her mother’s paw as the door shut behind them. Then he quickly pretended he was looking anywhere else and acting as calm as can be.

“Gosh this place is crowded.” Stu said.

“We’ve got a lot of animals here.” Judy was saying. “Now, you’ve met—Maisie do not pull on his scales, you know better than that!”

“It’s okay!” Gary waved her off, already with a baby bunny trying to hang off his head. Wow, he was good with kids. “I’m due for a shed anyway!”

“Ewww,” Some of her siblings cringed away in disgust, a few more leaning forward with deep fascination.

“Oh, be careful dears!” Stu stressed. “Please don’t go near the–the fangs…”

“He’s careful, Dad.” Judy insisted, gently pulling her parents along, further into the house so they could stop being stressed over the big snake. “And he has antivenom anyway, carries it with him at all times.”

“Oh, that’s smart.” Bonnie was nodding along, looking around. “You know the water shrews could learn a thing or two, so eager to bite and not a single one carries—is that Nick?”

Nick froze up, tail puffed as three pairs of rabbit eyes turned to him leaning casually on the wall. He recovered quickly, not at all because he’d been stressing about this moment all day and had specifically scrubbed himself thoroughly down and brushed out his fur. 

“Mister and Missus,” He tipped his imaginary hat, slinking over as casual as can be, paws behind his back.

“Goodness yer taller in person.” Stu blurted first, then got smacked on the back of his head by Bonnie. “I mean, hello! So nice to finally meet face-to-face, Nick.” He corrected, offering a paw.

“Likewise,” He said, in his best look at me I’m so charming and suave and not at all here to steal your valuables tone of voice (except minus the stealing part), taking Stu’s hand in a very solid shake if he did say so himself. “And I must thank you for those blueberries, they were just as wonderful as the last time.”

“Oh, they did make it!” Stu was instantly right at ease. Score one for Nicholas Wilde. “You know I kept meaning to ask Judy and then I kept getting sidetracked about her life and her new case and—”

“We’re glad to hear it.” Bonnie interrupted, and Nick dipped his head a little when he shook her paw as well. “We’ll make sure Judy’s got some with her whenever she’s back from visiting. You know, if we can ever get her back.”

“Aw, you’d be a little delivery driver for me?” Nick cooed, as annoying as possible as he turned his head to her.

“I wouldn’t deliver flowers for your grave.” Judy deadpanned, very unamused.

“Liar,” Nick snorted, easily focusing right back on her parents, “I gotta tell ya, she’s not nearly this funny when we’re on a case.”

“How did that go by the way?” Bonnie asked, clasping her paws together. “Well, it clearly sorted itself out, but Judy doesn’t ever tell us anything.” She rolled her eyes.

“Oh, you know,” Nick shoved one paw in his pocket, very aware of the death-stare he was getting to the side of his head, “same old. Nothing the ZPD’s finest couldn’t handle.”

“Did the chief of police really get fanged?” Stu stressed. “Goodness, I was beside myself when those rumors came out!”

“It was an accident.” Judy assured, paws out. “And Chief Bogo’s fine now.”

“Took it all very well, actually.” Nick agreed. “Better than he takes us, I’ll say. Well, no,” He slid his gaze down to Judy, “he’s soft on you.”

“He is not.”

“You know he is. The Chief adores her.” He informed her parents, Judy yanking on his shirt to get him to knock it off. He did not. “You will never hear him say it, but put the two of them in a room together and you can tell she’s his favorite. I might as well be chopped liver. No idea how that happened, one minute he couldn’t wait to toss her out and the next he’s letting her go from ten department violations with a slap on the wrist.” He dropped his paw to Judy’s head when she started to pull on his tail. “Do either of you have particularly spiny burs somewhere in your family trees? Because I think it resurfaced with her.”

“They were not violations.” Judy stamped on his toe and it took everything within his being to not hop away on one foot and howl in pain, instead slowly taking his paw off her head and cringing away. “They were all within the technical legal code and I sourced it!”

“Daw, that’s our Jude.” Bonnie chuckled, and Nick held back his smile at how flustered Judy was getting. “You know it was the same at her school, the teachers either couldn’t stop talking about her or were complaining about some silly thing every other week.”

“Top of her classes though,” Stu added, proud.

“Least surprising thing I’ve heard about her.” Nick smiled lazily.

“Judy, Judy, Judy!” Came the cacophony of tiny voices, because her siblings had decided they were now adjusted to the new environment and wanted to bother their cool older sister.

“Oh, go say hi to them,” Bonnie waved Judy off as she was instantly stuck with living cotton-balls to her legs, “they’ve been missing you.”

“Mom, come on, I’ve—Ernest his tail is not a toy!”

Nick jerked his tail to the side, just in time to miss a little bunny grabbing onto it. The boy whined, looking up with big eyes. “But it’s so fluffy!”

“Heh, nice kits.” Nick managed, smile a little strained. He barely remembered at the last minute not to say ‘cute’, as he had learned from Clawhauser’s warning a long time ago. 

(“Mind if I ask a question you will likely kick me in the head for?”

“Well if you’re so eager to be kicked in the head, be my guest.” Judy hadn’t even so much as looked up from her computer, typing away.

“What’s up with the ‘cute’ thing?” He leaned on her desk, skimming over what she was writing down and deciding it was boring and he didn’t care. At her slow turn to him, he added quickly; “Not, like—I just mean, I’ve never heard of it—I just wanted to know what the ‘sitch was—can you make it a light kick?” He cringed.

Judy held his gaze for a minute. Then she snorted softly, shaking her head a little and going back to work.

“It’s just not something you say to rabbits you don’t know.” She said easily. “We hear it too often.”

“You’re tired of being called cute?” Nick slowly raised a brow.

“It’s like,” She paused for a moment, then went back to typing, “rabbits don’t get taken seriously by bigger animals enough as is. And then you’ve got everyone gushing about how cute we are, and then we’re really never taken seriously. So getting called cute by someone kind of immediately sets the tone that we’ve already been dismissed, if that makes sense?”

“...huh, yeah, I see it.” Nick nodded after a moment. “Not many animals are gonna seriously listen to the upset rabbit if they’re just getting cooed at for walking in the room.”

“Exactly,” Judy nodded in his direction, still focused on her screen. “So you just don’t say it to stranger bunnies. It’s reserved for close friends in a way.”

“Alright, that makes sense.” He watched her screen, chin on his fist as he watched the words go by. Then he turned his head in Judy’s direction. “Do I get to call you cute?” He batted his eyes.

Judy slowly slid her eyes back to him, expression deadpan. Nick sweated a little under his collar as she looked him up and down. Then her nose twitched and she went back to typing.

“Don’t push it.” Is what she said, typing a little faster than she had been previously. Paused for just a moment, glanced at him quickly before resuming. “I reserve the right to veto that privilege.”

“I will use it only for good.” Nick, who had never once used nicknames or terms of endearment for good reasons, grinned. His tail wagged where Judy couldn’t see under the desk. “Shake a tail, Carrot Cakes.” He slipped away from her desk and strode to the entrance of her cubicle. Rested his paw on the entryway and grinned over his shoulder. “It’s the cutest part about ya.”

“Thin line, Nicholas!” She snapped, ears flushed red as he laughed and darted out of there.)

“I swear we teach them manners.” Bonnie sighed, shooing her son away. Nick spotted Gary slithering by, all the smallest bunnies sitting on his back like he was one long choo-choo train, and he silently stepped into the middle point of Stu and Bonnie’s vision so they hopefully didn’t catch this and freak out. 

“Mom, you know they never have manners when out of Bunnyburrow.” Judy huffed, then stepped to the side and away from the conversation to pull apart some of her siblings. Nick chuckled at it, watching a little too fondly as she got caught up in all her little siblings. He couldn’t imagine keeping track of all of them. 

“So where you from?”

“Huh?” Nick hummed, then jerked to pay attention to Judy’s parents again. “Oh, uh, here.” He gestured with a paw. “Born and raced Zootopian. Originally way further south though, so far downtown it was nearly in Savanna Central.”

“Ever left the city?” Stu asked conversationally.

“Nope, never had a reason to.” Nick shrugged. “Though me n’ Carrots are due for a little vacation to Outback Island. Chief insists on it.” Ignoring that they had a certain sheep that they had reason to believe was fleeing to such a place. 

“Oh she was right.” Bonnie cooed, Nick blinking in confusion. “You do have nicknames.”

“Ah,” Nick blushed, clearing his throat, “uh, right, um, sorry that’s uh—” He stuttered, because of course only Judy’s family could off-center him almost as well as she did.

“That’s just adorable.” Bonnie turned to Stu, who snorted and did seem at least a little amused by it. “Well,” She gave Nick a look that was almost coy, “despite what she says.”

“Hah, yeah,” Nick chuckled nervously, “habit.”

“You know, she used to perk up all the time when she was visiting home,” Stu began, the tiniest purpose to his voice, “before y’all figured out that night howlers thing. Sittin’ all droopy at the stand until someone asked for a bag of carrots, sat right up like someone said a code word.”

“Makes sense now.” Bonnie looked very amused at this. Stu looked like he was sizing Nick up.

“Oh, well,” Nick thought he was going to combust into a fiery furry inferno on the spot, “heh, didn’t realize that.” He cleared his throat, loudly. “Anyways, uh, Reptile Ravine!” He clasped his paws together. “Whaddya think of the place when you were coming in?”

“Very lively,” Bonnie said.

“Lot of color, didn’t expect so much color out of reptiles.” Stu nodded along.

“Very well-built, we were surprised.” Bonnie agreed. “Never would’ve thought this place was built by reptiles.”

“Yes,” Nick’s smile turned a little pinched. He saw where Judy got her initial unintentional patronization from, “well, they did build the place entirely on their own. Lots of the initial reptile building techniques were used when making the Zootopia temperature districts.”

“Really? Now that's something.” Bonnie gasped. “Well, I’m glad we know that now.”

“Oh, yes, Jude caught us up on the whole cover-up. Tragic thing.” Stu nodded along. “And the Lynxleys! You know I tell ya, you can never trust a wealthy man.” He held onto the straps of his overalls, shaking his head with his nose up. “Rich folks never got that way by being honest.”

“And certainly not the Lynxley’s.” Nick muttered, glowering off to the side.

“The news said there was a struggle.” Bonnie’s brow furrowed, wringing her paws together. “I was so worried, Judy insisted she was fine but, oh, you know her,” She sighed, “she’d lose a finger to a woodchipper and try and reattach it herself.”

“Nothing we couldn’t deal with.” He eased. “She’s got a pretty mean kick to her, as I’m sure you know.”

“Yes, but the claws!” Stu fretted, looking faint at the sight. “Lynxes have such big paws, and the claws on those paws!”

Nick thought of Pawbert’s paw around Judy’s neck as he held them against the snow. He thought of the scar on her cheek. His lip twitched over his canines.

“She’s tough.” He said. “And she wasn’t alone, I assure you I kept her out of too much trouble.” He said, leaving out that he did his best to do just that, not that he succeeded. “Partners do that.”

“That’s such a relief.” Bonnie sighed, Stu now openly eyeing Nick again. “You know my mother,” She tilted her ears, “was so stressed over the whole thing when the news announced you cracked the night howler case, what was it…”

“Up and coming officers.” Stu recited. “Hopps and, uh, unidentified fox was what they said at first I think.”

“How charming.” Nick drawled.

“Yes! She was in such a fit over it.” Bonnie tsked. “And I told her, you know, I kept telling her, ‘Gram-Gram, Judy’s a tough girl, she’s not going to be wandering with anyone hurtful.’”

“And certainly not a fox.” Stu sniffed. “Certainly not a fox. You know she picked a fight with a raccoon once. Raccoon! That girl was gunning it to put me in an early grave, but she doesn’t let any critter pull long-cons on her.”

“Ah,” Nick said slowly.

“And I could barely ask her about that case before she was just going on and on about you,” Bonnie continued, which did prick Nick’s ears right up, “and she was calling you partner already and I said hold on.” She held up both her paws for emphasis. “Since when was this? And oh she just kept going…”

“You could never get Judy to talk so much unless it was about the city or officer training.” Stu nodded along. “We thought she’d already been assigned, you know, a legit cop in the force from how she was talkin’. Which I thought was odd, because last I checked she was perfectly safe as a meter maid—”

“Come to find out you hadn’t even gone to the academy yet.” Bonnie chuckled lightly. “She just dropped that casually in conversation, no big deal, and then kept right on going. And I say hold on now, honey, you were doing all this dangerous work with some random fox?”

“And ya know what she said?” Stu huffed, then raised his voice to a teasing octave. “She said ‘his name is Nick, Dad. He’s my partner and I couldn’t have done it without him, and I’m not going to elaborate on ‘partner’ because I like giving you gray hairs—’”

“Oh, hush, you’re overdoing it.” Bonnie lightly smacked him, smiling at Nick. “It’s a rough approximation. We’re rambling.” She reached out, and Nick just stared as she took one of his paws, claws and all, gently patting the back of it. “We’re terrible at saying thank you like normal animals. So, thank you.” She said, so terribly sincere. “We get folks back home worrying their ears off, you know, Judy out there so close with a predator and a fox, and we just have to tell them: Judy doesn’t give praise like that to anyone.” 

“Not a soul.” Stu agreed. “So, you know, as stressed as we of course are,” He settled a paw on his wife’s arm, “we knew she had to be with a darn good mammal.”

“And this is very preferred over the precinct assigning her someone.” Bonnie said with a sigh that sounded like genuine relief. “We saw their lineup online, those animals are huge.”

“Big beasts.” Stu whistled.

“And this way, we already know she likes her partner.” She patted Nick’s paw again. “A lot.”

“A lot.” Stu echoed. “She’s always mentionin’ doin’ something with ya.”

“Oh, always, half our conversations have your name in them.”

“Huh,” Nick’s voice was noticeably high when he finally got a word in, “that, um,” He gently, very gently, squeezed Bonnie’s paw back before he was released, “is…thank you.” He stammed out. “That–that’s very—”

“Okay!” Judy scared the absolute lights out of him, jumping practically a foot in the air as she reappeared, her fur rumbled and fixing her clothes. “Siblings have been rallied and properly seen-to.” She looked between them once before shooting a look at her parents. “What have you been telling him.”

“Oh, nothing,” Bonnie waved off, “just talking about you, really.”

“And your case.” Stu tacked on.

“Uh huh,” Nick tried to calm his racing heart (which was racing for more than one reason), “yeah, all that. Did you really try to fight a raccoon?”

“Dad.”

“Well you did! I ain’t lettin’ you live that one down, sugarcube.” Stu huffed.

“Did you win?” Nick twitched his ear.

“Yes.”

“No she did not.” Stu scoffed.

“She didn’t.” Bonnie shook her head sadly.

“I won that!” Judy defended. “Just because you made me leave doesn’t mean I lost! I would’ve won if you gave me thirty more seconds!”

“Ma’dear, I am not giving you a single second more to fistfight a seventeen-year-old raccoon.” Stu placed a firm paw on her shoulder, so very tired. “Or any raccoon.”

“She was eleven at the time.” Bonnie added. Nick openly choked on a laugh, covering his muzzle with one paw and turning his head away.

“And I would have won. Back me up,” Judy nudged his side with her elbow, “tell them I would’ve won.”

“Well I’ve unfortunately never seen how scrappy you were as a kit.” Nick got out when he thought he wasn’t going to collapse into a snickering mess. “But based on what I’ve heard…I have my faith.” 

“See? I won that.” Judy puffed up with pride, Nick snorting and rolling his eyes affectionately. 

“You never lose a damn thing, Carrots.” He ruffled the fur between her ears because it pissed her off, and just as he thought she smacked him away with a thump of her foot. 

“Yeah, but that’s cause I have you.” Judy sniffed, giving him one last light shove to the side.

“Aww, aren’t you sweet? Gonna rot my teeth out.” He cooed, eyes drifting—”That is mine.” He jerked around Stu and Bonnie, who stumbled out of the way as he reached wildly for the window ledge, where some of Judy’s siblings had clambered up and were now trying to pop open the covered water bottles.

“Guys, you know not to use other people's stuff!” Judy scolded as Nick snatched the bottles away before her little brother could get his mouth around a heap of alcohol. 

He skirted back around her side, tail instinctively curling loosely around her legs, laying over her feet as he handed her bottle back to her, which she took easily and closed the lid back on as her siblings complained they were thirsty.

“Then go to the kitchen! There are cups.” She instructed, which just caused further whining, but she went back to ignoring them. 

“Sorry about that,” Bonnie sighed, giving one of her kids a light cuff around the ears as they scurried by.

“Good to know she’s always this bossy.” Nick conceded to taking a sip of his bottle now that it was back on his person, relishing in the bitter taste of cheap, cheap booze. “Thought she just liked ordering me around.”

“That is also true.” Judy grinned all innocently up at him. 

“Wow, I see how it is.” He huffed, turning up his nose. “You didn’t want a partner after all, you just wanted a bunch of subordinates. Look out, Bogo, we’ve got a new chief on the rise.” 

“Oh, that’s a much longer plan.” Judy inspected her nails. “It’ll need another decade or two before it fully pans out. Might let you in on being the deputy if I feel like it.”

“Have I ever mentioned how nice you are?” Nick chuckled, tail lightly tapping over her foot, still loosely wrapped. She didn’t even seem to notice or care. 

“No, not yet.”

“Mm, good.” Nick hummed into the rim of his bottle. “If that ever changes, scan me for a brain tumor.”

Judy scoffed in offense, kicking at his shin. This was as gentle as her kicks could ever be, so it still hurt like hell, but Nick only winced a little, and his laugh was genuine. Her smile was just as real in return, shoulder leaning on his side as he kept her as close as his tail allowed, turning his head to sip at his bottle.

And remembered her parents were still right there. Both were silent, slowly shifting their eyes between the two of them with the combined expressions of contemplation, suspicion, hesitant vindication, mild judgment, and fondness. This set off a hundred alarm bells in Nick’s head as he took down a slightly larger than recommended gulp of secret alcohol.

Then Stu leaned forward, eyes narrowed as he pointed between them. “So are you two dating?”

Nick choked. Very violently. He needed a minute to hunch over and try not to hack all over the carpet in this very crowded house, chest burning from the force of his coughs and not at all aided by the momentary fight-or-flight response flooding through every single nerve in his entire body.

“Dad!” Judy made some sound between a splutter and a squeak. 

“Honey, we talked about subtly.” Bonnie sighed, which just made Nick cough harder.

“Police partner!” Judy stressed, oh God they’d definitely had this conversation before he needed to die immediately, fingers pinched together. “I have gone over this!”

“Well I know that!” Stu defended. Lucky them the house was so loud that their little outburst didn’t disrupt the flow whatsoever. “It can have a double meaning! I know about these things, your siblings are teaching me how to be hip.”

“Oh my God,” Judy groaned, and Nick finally recovered with a gasp for air, paw landing on Judy’s shoulder as he finally got himself back to his feet.

“Wow, okay!” He was much too loud (which still wasn’t too loud for the De’Snake household). “Right!” He coughed a little still, very quickly removing his paw from Judy’s shoulder like he’d been burned. 

“See?” Bonnie gave her husband a mean look. “Now look at what you’ve done.”

“I asked you guys to be normal.” Judy’s face was buried in her paw. “That is all I asked.”

“Well you didn’t say no.” Stu sniffed, and it was honestly pretty funny how fast that metaphorical lightning strike shot through both Nick and Judy, followed by them both frantically professing their no’s and it’s not like that as though they were on the stand for a murder trial.

Nick, willing to actually murder someone just to get out of this entire experience, drew his gaze to the front door closing, new arrivals having entered. At once he was stepping forward, a sly smile that wasn’t at all strained back on his face. 

“Say,” He gestured for the Hopps’ to turn around, “have you met our friend Nibbles?”

“Nib—Nick, no.” Judy hissed.

“She was such a great help on our latest case.” He gently eased Bonnie and Stu forward, standing up straighter and waving a paw. “Yo, Nibbles!”

“Nick no.” Judy yanked at his tie. Nick held firm, which was a first. Normally he relented to Judy pulling him around by that tie as she deemed fit, but he was actually a decently strong fox, and so this time he kept his back straight. If he looked at her he was going to implode on the spot. 

“Oye, if it ain’t the coppers!” Nibbles greeted, waddling over.

“This here,” Nick dropped his head between Bonnie and Stu, “is Judy’s parents. Judy’s parents, this is Nibbles Maplestick. Couldn’t have solved this case without her help, truly, she was such a wonderful guide. Say, Nibbles, your podcast really took off after this case was released, didn’t it?”

“Oh you bet!” Nibbles lit up like a searchlight, and Nick slipped away at once before he could be caught in the crossfire, leaving a confusedly blinking Bonnie and Stu to the mercy of the beaver. “Have you guys seen my podcast? Allll about the crawlies and conspiracies of Zootopia, I got some real game-changers on there. You fellas ever heard of the bird theory?”

“I’ll leave you to it.” Nick said, already turning right on his heel. “I’ve got to stop by the bathroom real quick.”

“Nick do not leave.” Judy growled, trying to claw him back, heels digging into the carpet. “Nick we cannot leave my parents with her!”

“So sorry there cottontail, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” Nick did a dirty little trick, grabbing at the tip of Judy’s ear and giving it a quick tug. She yelped, instantly flying her paws up to yank her ear down and away from him with a glare. “You have fun.”

And Nicholas Piberius Wilde promptly turned and disappeared as though he were never there. It was one of his best tricks, because it was the only trick no one had ever managed to figure out.

(Except for one Judith Laverne Hopps, who had asked the right people and followed the right trails and been the right person, because even when he wanted to hide from the world and her especially, she found him under that damn bridge. She sobbed her little eyes out and plunked her little head on his chest, and Nick would never ever say how relieved he was that she came back at all. That he really meant enough that she was willing to learn, apologize, and do better. No one had ever done that for him before. He doubted anyone would do it again.)

Nick did not return until the De’Snake house was in full, chaotic swing. Bunnies damn near all over the walls, Gary perfectly happy as reptiles and mammals alike filled his home and chatted amongst each other. Where had Nick gone you may ask? That was for him to know and him alone.

He returned only because he was completely confident in the safety of his wellbeing on a mental and physical level. Mental because Judy’s parents were now awkwardly standing off and talking to another mammal, not disgracing some poor reptile they clearly wanted to try and figure out. Physical because Judy was nowhere near her parents or Nibbles, instead sitting on the steps to the top floor with her bottle (that was clearly empty) and casually chatting with a lizard as she kept an eye on her rowdy siblings.

Nick hovered around the party for a little while, slowly re-integrating himself in as though he’d always been there. Kept it casual on his slow approach, like gingerly introducing a rival onto another’s territory. He couldn’t act too fast or he’d be mauled on the spot.

When he glanced Judy’s way to see if she’d spotted him yet, she was staring straight at him. Her face was still angled towards the lizard and she was still talking with them, but her eyes were locked on his red fur.

Ah, well, at least his physical wellbeing would be mostly intact. And he made sure to fill up his bottle with some extra booze before he meandered on over.

“Afternoon,” He greeted.

“Traitor.” Judy glowered.

“Ha!” The lizard snorted, looking between them both before dipping her frills. “Thank you both again, but I think I’ll leave ya to it.”

“No rush.” Nick hummed, watching her leave so he didn’t have to look at Judy glaring at him.

It hung for a second.

“You are such an asshole.”

“Well, duh.” Nick snorted, taking a seat on the step just below hers. 

“Not duh, you are not a duh kind of asshole.” She socked him right in the shoulder, and he yipped quietly as he cowered away, offering his bottle between them as peace. “You left my parents with Nibbles!”

“I thought you liked Nibbles?” He tried. Cringed when he got another smarting bruise to his arm he was going to feel for many days after. 

“I do, but Nibbles does not have a filter.” Judy hissed, then gave him a flurry of more punches that were luckily much lighter. “Do you have any idea how hard it is to keep Nibbles from telling every single gory detail about our Lynxley case to a pair of parents who are dead-set on finding any reason to have a panic attack?”

“...ah,” Nick winced, nose wrinkling, “I did not think of that.”

“Clearly.” Judy snatched the bottle away from him, popped the cap, and downed a mouthful. “So now they know Pawbert had snake venom on him and that Nibbles needed the antidote. You better thank every lucky star that they didn’t figure out what happened to me.”

“Well, let’s be fair now,” Nick couldn’t help but be petty, “that is a very good reason for them to panic.”

“Which I do not need to do to them right now!” Judy stressed, ears flat. “Or ever! They still don’t know how close Bellweather got to besting us, and I am keeping it that way.”

Funny way to say your parents don’t know I almost went crazy and snapped your neck, but sure, let’s put it that way. Which was a sentence he wanted so badly to say and could not bring himself to. He was, perhaps, not actually a duh kind of asshole.

“Or, let’s consider this,” He shifted his body to turn fully towards her, paws together, “how about we stop doing crazy stupid nonsense, and then we won’t have to go lying to your parents about how safe you are. You know who would appreciate that? Your parents. You know who would also appreciate that? Me. I would greatly appreciate that.”

“Nick, you know I had to.” Judy sighed.

“No, actually, you did not have to do any of that.” Nick stressed. “You did not have to do jack-all. But you know what?” He reached out, paw just over her knee. “I know you’re going to do it anyway, okay? I know you’re going to keep running in front of those bullets no matter what I say.” He closed his eyes for a second, exhaling, and then opened them. Judy had her trying-not-to-be-vulnerable-but-we’re-feeling-very-vulnerable-right-now face on. Possibly due to the alcohol. “So I’m just going to ask that maybe, before you do that, you could think of putting on a bullet-proof vest first?”

Judy looked at him for a minute. He wanted so badly to tease her about how big and wet her eyes were because of emotional bunnies or whatever. But he was also feeling maybe a little emotional so perhaps he’d also had too much alcohol in his hiding-away. Or maybe he hadn’t recovered from everything just yet. Maybe he should get a proper therapist. Maybe they both should. Maybe he wasn’t super over the way he wanted to burst out in a snarling sob when Pawbert told him Judy was dead and he had been too late, too late, always too late—

“Okay,” Judy said quietly, paw gently sliding over his, “okay, I’ll…yeah. I think I can do that.”

“Thanks,” Nick exhaled, slowly slumping back against the steps. He didn’t move his paw. Judy didn’t either.

They watched the party from the steps, quiet as life moved around them, barely noticing their existence. Judy silently passed the bottle over for Nick to take a swig of, and he passed it right back to her. 

He wondered, sometimes, how crazy Judy had to be to do…all of the things that she did on the regular. He wondered what it meant that among those crazy things there was her leaping after him and grabbing his paw, trusting Gary would catch her in time. He hoped she’d been trusting that. He hoped she’d known Gary was there and that she didn’t jump after him without any plan.

He knew exactly what the answer to that was. He also knew exactly what that meant. Because Nick Wilde was not an idiot, but he was very, very afraid.

The rest of the party was a success at least. And when they stood by the doorway and he gave her that gift he’d stuffed away in a hiding spot Gary assured him no one would find, he saw the sparkle in her eye as she thumbed over the newly re-made pen he’d painstakingly taken to all sorts of technicians to fix up. The original recording was lost, but he knew it meant more just for the pen to be back. Even though he thought it was pretty lame to give her reformed pen back to her, he thought it was a nice symbol or something.

Then he made the mistake of saying that thing he only said once a decade unless it was in some weird, roundabout way. And Judy grinned so very, very bright when she realized she had that little voice recording with her forever now.

Nick sighed, terribly heavy and terribly pained, but Judy just giggled and knocked into his side. And he thought, looking down, that he knew exactly what was wrong with them both. And maybe he was an idiot, because he was going to let it keep happening. 

He didn’t say this: there were a lot of things he’d do for Judy Hopps. Maybe everything. Judy was a rabbit who made a hundred mistakes and was terrible at owning up to them until she was right on the edge, but she really did mean it when she apologized. She leaped before looking and would continue doing so until she couldn’t, and then even after that. She had an incredible amount of care for the world around her, despite it having looked down on her from the day she was born. She was going to change that world for the better, and for whatever reason, she wanted a street fox by the name of Nick Wilde alongside her. 

He didn’t know how to convey how much that meant to him, how much she meant to him. Because even though she dug under his fur and bled him dry, he couldn’t imagine anyone knowing him so well and still wanting him. He thought the world was already a better place than he ever conceived, purely because it had Judy Hopps in it.

He didn’t say any of that. Instead, he said this: Love you, partner.

And maybe that was enough.