Author's Note: So, I didn't realize before I got the idea for this work that Humans in Zootopia fanfic has sort of a bad rap. The reason I went with this idea was because there is an amazing amount of humorous potential in a tired, cynical old beat cop finding himself policing with what, to him, looks like a bunch of talking plush toys. This is primarily a humorous piece, though with a few more serious parts thrown in. Still, I solemnly swear that I will try to make you chuckle at least once a chapter.

There is no human-animal romance, by the way, in case anyone was worried or curious, though I did run with Wilde/Hopps for reasons.

"Officer Hunter here to see you, Chief."

"Send him in."

Zach Hunter walked into the Chief's office and snapped to attention. Snapped to something resembling attention, at least. "What's up, Chief?"

The tall, somewhat portly man behind the desk glared at him. "Would it kill you to show just a little respect, Hunter?"

"I don't know, sir, never really tried."

The Chief grunted. "I suppose you're honest, at least." He picked up a folder off the desk- a remarkably clean desk for the Chief of police of one of the largest cities in the Human Stars. "Here," he said as he tossed it.

Hunter caught it, but didn't open it, instead frowning at the Chief quizzically. "What's this?"

"It's a fol-der, Hunter, containing your kryptonite."

Hunter sighed. "Paperwork."

"Orders."

The cop cocked an eyebrow, opened the folder. He looked up. "You can't be serious."

"I am serious, and don't call me- damn." The Chief frowned. "You're supposed to call me Shirley."

The Chief never quite had gotten the hang of jokes. Hunter decided- uncharacteristically wisely- to let it pass. "Zootopia. You want me- Zach Hunter- to go to Zootopia."

"Want?" The Chief leaned back, pursed his lips. "I wouldn't say want, exactly. Ordered, though? Oh, yeah."

"They don't even let humans onto the planet!"

"Not true. They have- are going to have, I should say- a very nice tourist area, though strictly access controlled. Hell, most of the anim- er-" He paused, keyed his intercom. "June, what is the current politically correct term for the inhabitants of Zootopia?"

"Hang on, Chief, let me check the chart...sapient non-human Terrans, it looks like. Or was that last month-"

"Never mind. Look, Hunter, here's the deal. Since the Human Stars have reestablished diplomatic relations with the, uh-"

"Sapient non-human Terrans," said Hunter helpfully.

"The Zootopians-"

"Technically, isn't Zootopia just one city?"

The Chief glared at him. Hunter was unfazed, but had learned when to shut up through hard experience.

"The Zootopians. We've made nice with them, so it turns out it's all the rage to participate in cultural exchange."

Hunter held up a hand. "Ah, I should stop you right there, Chief, I'm not-"

"I am fully aware that you are not in the least bit cultured, Hunter, but you are exchangeable. We're getting a timber wolf officer." The Chief's eyes unfocused and his face turned somber, as if contemplating something disastrous but just beyond the horizon. "A timber wolf. Officer."

"He could be his own K-9 handler at least," noted Hunter.

The intercom buzzed. The Chief irritably poked it. "Yes?"

"Can't say that, Chief. It's on the chart. The other chart. For potentially offensive phrases."

The two cops frowned at the intercom. "She can hear us?" asked Hunter cautiously.

"Apparently." The Chief growled. "Anyway, we need to exchange one of our officers as a liaison slash observer. So I'm sending you to go and-" his hands made a sort of vague wave in the air- "liaise." He paused. "Slash observe."

"Surely there were volunteers, Chief!" said Hunter, somewhat desperately. He wasn't sure what a planet full of animals would be like, even if it was the ancient human homeworld, but he was fairly certain he wouldn't like it.

"Yes. But frankly, I didn't want volunteers." The Chief leaned back. "Look, Hunter, there's basically four types of officers in a police force. The active and smart, the active and stupid, the lazy and smart, and the lazy and stupid."

"I wouldn't call you-"

"As you value your career, do not finish that sentence. I'm not talking about me. In policing, you want to promote your smart and active officers because they get shit done. You put your stupid and lazy officers in positions where there's lots of supervision, so they get shit done without screwing it up too much. And you get rid of your stupid and active officers so they don't go and screw something up so badly it makes the front page."

Hunter frowned at him. "I'm not active."

"Oh, no, Hunter, God no. That leads me to the fourth category. The lazy and smart. These officers take careful handling. The nice thing is, they get shit done- when they have to- but tend to do the bare minimum to achieve their goals. And they tend to do it fairly creatively, because they are smart, and too lazy to put in the effort to do it the 'normal' way. Without getting into trouble, again, because they are smart."

He leaned forward. "You, Hunter, are one of the smartest cops I know. You're also one of the laziest. You're the only officer I can think of that caught a serial killer because he kept dumping bodies in your district just before you went off duty."

"That's not exactly-"

"Yes, it is. I talked to your sergeant, who thinks you're the bestest cop in the whole wide world, and still was very frank about that. So here's the deal. I send you to the animal planet-"

The intercom buzzed. "Yes?"

"On the other chart, Chief."

"-To Terra, so you can go there, keep out of trouble, and then come back in a year with many interesting stories about how you did absolutely nothing. You're lazy and so probably won't get into trouble, and smart enough to find the path of least resistance out of it if you do. Also, you follow orders, even if you skirt the edge of insubordination as a hobby." The Chief leaned back. "In return, you can have your pick of assignment when you come back."

Hunter rubbed his chin thoughtfully. "Any assignment, Chief?"

"Within your rank, which will be Sergeant-" the Chief held up a hand, quelling his objection- "if you want. I know you've avoided promotion for the past few years."

"All right." The cop nodded. "I'll do it."

"Great. Because I was ordering you to anyway. Keep that in mind if you rethink being thrown to the lions, tigers, and bears-"

"Oh, my," finished Hunter.

The intercom buzzed insistently. They both ignored it.

"Well, then, Chief, if that's all, I guess I need to review this-" Hunter sighed. "Paperwork."

"Dismissed, then." As Hunter turned to leave, the Chief added, "Oh, and one more thing."

"Yes, Chief?"

The Chief grinned widely. "There were volunteers. But don't call me Shirley."