The city was beautiful when it was like this; shady, mysterious and oh so dangerous with the thick storm clouds gathering over it. There might have been a metaphor for her own particular turn-on's in that statement, but she'd never admit it. Back home a large storm like this would have sent tremors of activity fluttering through the countryside as rabbits and sheep and foxes alike rushed around to prepare for the destructive reckoning of the elemental storm. Windows were battened down and warehouses sealed, the flat plain of the countryside rendering anything taller than the dry golden grass at risk of divine judgement. But here in Zootopia it was another story, with every building in the sprawling city competing for height with a sort of phallic symbolism, there were just too many targets for the storm to choose. And when the sky finally did, it always struck the lightning rods, pieces of metal tied to the highest points like a ancient princess that had been strung up to appease some vengeful leviathan in the hope of saving the rest of the city from its appetite.
And it did. It worked so well that the citizens had long forgotten to fear nature's power; they were no longer trained to feel a sense of dread. Natural instinct was replaced for something more complacent. She supposed she counted among that number now. She'd been away from the farm long enough that she didn't scurry away at the first dark hue in the sky, but instead walked out onto a balcony frequented by her smoking colleagues, just to watch it with a sense of awe. No, she hadn't forgotten how dangerous a storm could be. But she had learnt that it could also be beautiful, that those two adjectives weren't necessarily opposites. Something could be both.
Was this still a metaphor for her definition of attractive? She didn't know nor did she think about it as she heard a heavy door slam closed inside the hallway that led towards the bull pen. She mentally kicked herself for her little space out session. Nick was rubbing off on her.
For the past few weeks he'd been narrating his life out loud as if he was writing a trashy detective's novel, even before he'd been officially assigned to the department, and now she'd started doing it as well. Thankfully it was only an internal monologue in her case. Either way, she'd remind him of her annoyance later on.
For now, she quickly stepped back inside, thankful that the storm hadn't progressed past spitting whilst she'd been out and left her uniform, and fur, relatively dry.
Zootopia Police Department Officer Judy Hopps had been waiting whilst Precinct One's newest addition had used the locker room. Ever since they informed her of his return twenty minutes ago, she'd been eager to see him again, her partner. He was just changing into his dark navy blue uniform after three long days undercover and she couldn't be more pleased to have her best friend back.
Despite how well she knew him, he'd only been working at P1 (and as her partner officially) for less than a week. When they'd caught a lucky break by stumbling on an underground street racing ring whilst booking a speeding car, he'd quickly gone undercover. Disguised as a fellow street racer, he'd successfully infiltrated a major race and led the rest of the department in nabbing the entire group of adrenaline junkies. She tried not to think about the fact he'd spent more of his first week out of uniform than in one, and especially avoided any other thoughts of him being out of uniform. That would just be asking for trouble.
Officer Nicholas P. Wilde was many things, ex-con, red fox and general pain in the ass foremost among them, but he was not humble. She would never hear the end of it if her admiration became known. The fox was currently strutting his way down the hallway several meters ahead of her, unaware she'd ducked outside. "Hey hotshot," she said by way of greeting, 'hotshot' had been the name he drove under to infiltrate the street racing group that the sloth Flash had clued them into in exchange for getting away with only a fine. "Long time no see, partner."
He turned around flashing a smug smile, the russet fur between his ears still scruffy from his time away, "No need to be coy Carrots, you know you missed me." He said as she fell in beside him, taking solace in his familiarity.
"No, I actually got some work done without you chewing my ear off." He let her have that one with a chuckle and she knew the phrase 'dumb bunny' was being thrown around his thick skull. Amiably she added, "It's good to see you back in blue Nick."
"I don't know, the green really made my eyes pop." He brought his paws up to his emerald eyes and made a popping motion even as he said the words. She allowed herself a giggle before pushing open the doors that lead into the testosterone filled heart of the precinct; the bullpen. How she loved the place.
She was struggling not to bounce the length of the room to Chief Bogo's office, where they would report the success of their first official case together. It showed in the hyperactivity of her ears twitching back and forth at every sound. Nick would say she was too excitable about work. She'd tell him he was just lazy, but that was why they worked so well together. The opposite natures of ZPD's first rabbit officer and first fox officer duo balanced each other out. That didn't mean they wouldn't argue about it.
She was vaguely aware of being congratulated by the rest of her colleagues. Ever since she had outdone herself on the controversial Night Howler case she had received a lot more support from the larger members (which really just meant everyone else) of the ZPD. It had taken a little longer for her fox partner to be looked at with anything other than suspicion but this latest successful case had overcome that hurdle impressively. Nick's chest swelled, as did his ego, as he accepted their compliments. Whispering out of the side of his muzzle he told her "I could get used to this."
She gave him a smile but whatever she'd been about to say was cut off when the resounding booming voice of the Chief said, "Hopps, Wilde, in my office, now." The massive Cape Buffalo left the door open behind him as he disappeared into his workplace. Beside her, Nick swallowed hard in apprehension. The Chief sounded bad-tempered and angry like he was about to fire someone.
Then again, he always sounded bad-tempered and angry. So maybe it wasn't as bad as it looked. But Nicholas Wilde didn't know that, after all, he'd just spent three months in the Academy, clawing his way to being the first fox officer despite prejudice. It wasn't surprising that he was still jumpy. Ha, jumpy, that was a rabbit's thing, a childish voice inside her said.
Regardless they stepped into the segregated work space, the gold letters on the door reading 'Chief Bogo'. There was no first name and for all she knew it could be Chief. It was as if the universe had taken the time to personally create him for the job. He was big, muscular and hardened. The strong head of the Zootopian Police force. But he wasn't a predator, so he didn't have a perverse instinct to use his strength maliciously. At least that's what the newscasts said; Judy had learnt the lesson the hard way that it wasn't just predators that you needed to watch out for.
His office was modestly small, everything inside was functional. There was no couch or posters or family pictures. There were two stiff-backed chairs in front of his desk so that a visitor wouldn't doze off and miss any information. There was his police academy diploma framed on the wall, so that people knew he had earned the position and not had it handed to him on a platter, to remind the officers that he'd been a rookie once. And there were no family photos. This was to let everyone know that his private life was in a word, private. When Judy Hopps first sat here, she hadn't understood any of its significance. She'd only seen the face of everyone she'd fought against to get there, the figure head of all the narrow-mindedness denying her dream. She knew better now.
She had to jump to reach the seat of the chair and Nick quickly joined her, even though there was another free chair across from her; the department had yet to incorporate furniture their size and Nick preferred to remind them by sharing a seat with her whenever possible.
If Chief Bogo noticed the slight he didn't dwell on it. He stared down at them for a moment before he spoke, "I'll admit I had my doubts about you, Wilde. Despite your involvement in the Bellwether case, I was cautious to let you onto my precinct. In your first week on the job, you have busted a major street racing ring and made our streets exponentially safer."
That... was very positive, which only made Judy more nervous. Chief Bogo rarely handed out compliments. Sure enough, he added, "But you did it without authorisation. Despite your success, you acted alone. And you have not been trained or cleared for undercover work, officer. Neither of you have.
"And now I have the powers that be breathing down my neck about sending you into a potentially dangerous situation unprepared. The news will twist it around so that it looks as if I did it on purpose, because you're a fox." Judy suddenly understood, with everything that'd happened with the Bellwether case predators were still given a sideways glance. Untrustworthy, the look said. But none were less trustworthy than foxes. The ZPD had made a point of openly supporting Nick's recruitment if only to relieve the hate the species garnered. Bogo continued with a wooden air, he was trying not to be personally offended by the implication. "I need to know the next time you two decide to go AWOL and make up your own agenda that you are ready to hand in your badge. Otherwise you better let me know what's going on before you are already balls deep in this mess. Am I making myself clear?"
Judy tried not to blush at the crude choice of words and nodded quickly. Even though the description was obviously directed at Nick, she knew she was also expected to agree. Hilariously they both chorused a "Sir, yes sir" simultaneously.
This seemed to please the buffalo because he dipped his head once in acknowledgement. However his expression never wavered from that of a concerned frown."Good. In light of your recent hours Wilde, you have the rest of the day off. Hopps, you as well. I don't want to see a hair of either of you until Monday morning when I expect your full report. You are dismissed."
It left them stunned, it was unheard of for the Chief of police to give anyone the day off for a simple open and shut case. Then again Nicholas had been technically on the job for the last three days, and Judy hadn't left the Precinct on principle. But the fox was already up and moving, never one to argue with time off, so Judy followed dutifully.
They made their way to their desk, numbed by the sudden expanse of free time dropped in their paws. A whole weekend to do what they wanted with, it was both a strange and terrifying thought, especially for the workaholic rabbit. What were they to do with such time? More importantly, what was she to do with her time? They were off the clock now, and Nicholas Wilde was allowed to enjoy his time away from the department and her. It was a bitter pill to swallow, she certainly wasn't sick of him yet. But then rabbits were perhaps more social creatures.
"Hey Cottontail, what are you doing tonight?" She was midway through clearing her desk for the night when he spoke, the charismatic drawl in his words more pronounced than usual. She raised an eyebrow at him and held back the small hope that was building inside of her.
"Nothing, you?" She hoped he asked to do something with her. Well, not something, that would be embarrassing, but maybe he wanted to hang out in a friendly capacity. She forced herself not to dwell on the other possible capacity.
He held up a paw as if to inspect his nails, giving her a smirk. At some point, he'd loosened his tie without her noticing. It always amazed her how he could make even a police uniform look lazy. "You know, this might be the first weekend we have free for a while. I was thinking we could go out for a drink unless you look down on that thought a thing."
Judy was caught somewhere between amusement and irritation and jumping for joy; ever since Nick had found out about her religious upbringing, he'd taken to treating her like a blushing teenager. He constantly asked if the slightest thing offended her catholic sensibilities ('Of course the bunnies would be catholic' had been his remark upon finding out). But she had to admit the gentle teasing was a good alternative to the one argument they'd had on the topic, due to him being an adamant atheist. And she wouldn't begrudge the chance to hang out with him.
Instead, she smiled smugly, crossing her arms and inflicting her words with that country girl articulation she'd worked so hard to remove during her time at the police academy, emphasizing the 'y' and 'a' sounds. "Why Mister Nicholas Wilde, you wouldn't be asking me on a date now, would you?"
He didn't blush as she'd hoped (not that it was easy to tell with his auburn coloured fur) but gave his most charming smile. "You couldn't handle me sweetheart, trust me. But if that's what you want to call it, go ahead."
She knew that a lot of people frowned on her friendship with the fox. And she also knew that a lot of people frowned on them individually. It was the kind of stigma that stuck around for a generation or two after it's been proven wrong. But her co-workers were used to them by now; they didn't raise an eyebrow at the banter that erupted from the predator-prey duo. She wondered if that should frustrate or gladden her, but instead focused on the silver lining. Even if the whole world hates her for it, she still has her best friend.
So she beams past the blush that settled on her cheeks and nodded her head vigorously, "Sure thing Slick."
The bar has a colonial feel to it, its spacious layout and comfortable decoration bringing to mind charming accents and golden coloured ales. She felt altogether too casual in only a plaid shirt and the nicer of her two pairs of jeans. She isn't wearing a blouse nor had she brought a matching jacket.
Nick had draped his Police issue jacket over her shoulders when they'd met at the front (despite her protests) and mentioned Clawhouser's name at the door to get them in ahead of the line. This pub was a favourite among police officers that the bubbly cheetah tipped them off too when they'd been leaving the Precinct. Apparently the staff liked police as well, giving them a discount and a place to relax after a hard day protecting the streets of Zootopia.
It was a good thing, she realised afterwards, because otherwise Nick might not have been let in. As it was they still got suspicious glances and hard stares from the other patrons as they sat down with their drinks. Or more specifically, Nick did.
Judy wanted to be indignantly angry, to yell at them and remind them that he was a citizen of Zootopia, same as them. But he gave her a warning look as she made to stand up. No Judy let this go, the look said.
She had surprised him by ordering a bloody Mary, but he quickly accepted that it made sense. Tomato juice and celery was apparently not a great leap from carrots. Nick himself had ordered a mid-priced scotch and was calmly nursing it when she voiced her question. She could sense his sleazy Private Investigator alter-ego about to make an appearance so she hurried to change the subject.
"I still don't see why I also get the weekend off. You did all the work on this one." She wasn't complaining, she was just making a point. She definitely wasn't complaining.
"You complain too much Hopps." Darn it. "You've put just as many hours in this week. I know that for a fact, so don't even try to deny it." He shook a furry finger in front of her to emphasize his words.
"Clawhouser ratted me out, didn't he?" She said indignantly.
He didn't even hesitate. "Yes, he did. To be fair, I bribed him with donuts." She crossed her arms. Backstabbing cat, he's lucky she couldn't stay mad at him even if she tried. He took another sip of the dark brown liquid and added, "All I'm saying Carrots is that you earned your weekend too. It wasn't all me out there."
She crossed her arms before answering, "All I did was sit around in the Precinct."
He scoffed at her, "Then who organised the arrest huh? Who had to inform the chief?" he tapped the bar's surface with each point, "Who willingly sat at a desk for three days listening to my wire, in case I needed backup?"
"No one else would volunteer," she protested, "especially after the first hour of you comparing every sunrise and suburb to something out of an old noir novel."
"Technically it would be 'hardboiled', not 'noir' since I'm a cop now." Darn it, she'd brought up the PI alter ego. He gave her a toothy grin, as she finished off her vodka and tomato juice with a long swallow. "Besides, I thought I was rather poetic."
"You compared Zootopia to a termite infested townhouse. I believe 'bright paint and oblivious advertisement hides the rotten decay evident below the surface' was the exact line you used. Francine was almost crying after five minutes." She told him.
"It's not my fault no one appreciates talent." He protested, "I just call it like it like I see it."
Anyone else she would have been angry with for the pessimism she'd had to listen to. But she knew Nick had done it in jest. Ever since he'd got back from the academy he'd been acting like a sleazy PI, stating he was a changed man now. She'd considered it a win when she successfully convinced him never to wear the fedora he'd bought again, although it had taken a great deal of threatening. Despite warning everyone to not humour him, McHorn had already taken to calling him Nick Tracy on a regular basis. "You can be a real cynic sometimes Nicky."
He shrugged under his Hawaiian shirt in that way of his, a blue one this time, and stood up. "I've got the next round."
Several of their other co-workers joined them later on, around 10 o'clock in the evening. Muttering something about celebrating Nick and Judy's first week as partners, another round of drinks was bought. At this point, the number of drinks Judy had already consumed was approaching the double digits. But she didn't argue when Clawhouser pushed a vodka-soda into her paws, knowing she'd probably regret it in the morning. Wolford, Fangmeyer, and McHorn also joined them for the merriment and soon they had to relocate to a booth in order to fit everyone.
But it only added to the celebration and soon they were actively trading war stories and singing drinking songs the likes of which Judy had never heard, but tried her best to mumble along too and failed ridiculously. In that moment, Judy had never felt so content, her years of ambition had finally paid off and she'd found a place among all the other tough-as-nails police officers, despite her diminutive size. She looked across to Nick and smiled so wide she thought her jaw might split in two. She also had a best friend that she would never have met if she'd given in to all the voices telling her she wasn't good enough. He returned her smile, albeit a little less drunkenly, and her mind rushed happily through the next hour.
The next thing she remembered Nick had his arm around her shoulders and was leading her out of the bar. Her euphoric mental state found it quite a pleasant feeling, pressed up against the warmth of his side. But he was only walking her home and she'd forget those thoughts later. For the moment it was enough of a struggle to match his pace. It was like an insane three legged race where their feet weren't attached and her mind was not up to the task of working out the rhythm. A shrew and a giraffe might have made better speed than they did. She realised she didn't know how far they had gone or even where they were.
She decided to ask but it came with heavy slurring, "Nnnnick, where arrre we?"
He looked down at her with an amused smile and chuckled. "We haven't gone more than ten meters Carrots, we're nowhere yet." Well, that's embarrassing, you stupid drunk rabbit. Not that she was a light-weight; it was just that she had a significant disadvantage in her body mass ratio.
Eerily she wondered if Nick knew where she lived, she didn't remember ever inviting her over or telling him where she lived. Not that she could remember an awful lot right now. "Do youu know the waay?" Was her immediate response but she was cut off sharply when she felt a great impact in her side. Numbly she recognised the sensation that made its way to her skull as pain. She cried out but she wasn't too sure it escaped her inhibited lips. There was a distorted sound hitting her overly large bunny ears.
She quickly surmised that she had fallen to the ground, her face pressed up against the cold wet bitumen. It was an uncomfortable texture and she heard herself groan at the feeling even as her hearing finally kicked in.
"...you think we're just going to let you walk away with your afternoon snack? You sick savage." came a deep yet surprisingly tinny voice. She also realised she could hear someone getting the wind knocked out of them.
Nick's voice was haggard as he offered, "No it's nothing like that. I'm with the ZPD, I was helping her home."
"Don't give us that baloney, we know better than to trust a fox." Came another voice, there were, at least, two people besides Nick and they were... Another sound of something hitting flesh. Cheese and crackers! They were beating him up. She had to help.
She somehow found the energy to push herself up and say "N-no stop. He's sayin' the t-truth!"
A sudden rustling of someone walking over, "What are you saying Cottontail? That he is a cop."
"H-he's my part-ner."
"Jake," the second voice called, "he's got a badge."
She was vaguely aware of another bout of arguing before footsteps thundered away from her. She hoped her friend was alright. When she was pulled to her feet again she looked around numbly. The blue and red in her peripheral vision told her it was Nick, curling her into his side again. She could almost believe she had imagined the whole thing; his body was just as warm and nourishing as before.
Except his breathing was off, exhausted and wheezy, in a way that poked at her subconscious. His gait was the most annoying, his steps mismatched and it took far too long for her to realise he was limping yet he was whispering reassuringly as they walked.
Her mind focused back on the argument. They'd attacked him, pulled him away from her because they had seen a fox and an intoxicated rabbit leaving together. They'd thought he had some nefarious goal with her. While she was grateful that their first instinct was to protect her, she also felt an overwhelming anger towards their prejudice.
Hero Complex was the term the police academy used for it. It was one of the most reoccurring causes for bar brawls. Generally, only evident in males, a young buck or other species might spy a girl being interacted with by another male. Then disguising their jealousy as heroism they commonly instigate a fight under the excuse of defending the lady.
Apparently it also applied to members of different species.
Never mind what the lady thinks, Judy thought to herself, the punks never thought to ask her first. It pissed her off. She wasn't just some token bunny. She could take care of herself, and it angered her that Nick had received the punishment. She was going to make sure he was okay, right now.
The thought disappeared as she was jostled to a stop. Nick dug the keys out of her pockets and fitted it into the lock before pushing the door open of her tiny apartment. When had they gotten onto a bus? They sure as hell didn't walk here. Also, when did they get inside the building? She must have been more intoxicated than she thought. He took a step inside before ushering her through.
"Good god Carrots, you didn't tell me you lived in a closet." He wrapped his bushy tail around her to keep her steady as he closed the door with both hands, relocking it immediately. "I'm going to have to start calling you Harry Otter and buy you a magic wand." He added snarkily.
But Judy was too distracted to offer a witty retort. In the alcohol induced haze she latched onto one fluffy detail, Nick's tail wrapped around her. Her paw came out to stroke the red furred appendage up and down. Good god, it was so soft and warm.
Wait did she say that last part out loud?
Nick was chuckling, "Who are you calling soft?" Okay, she wanted to die now. "You're a bunny, that's practically the definition of soft."
She pouted, "Big mean fox, picking on a little ol' bunny." But her tone was light. And when his tail unwrapped from around her, she dazedly tried to follow it before his paws were on her shoulders directing her to the bed. Falling face first onto it, she let out a contented sigh. She hoped he would join her so that she could cuddle up to that tail again.
The sound of a hinge opening behind her and a dull thump caused her to groan in irritation. She rolled onto her side to see Nick holding out a water bottle.
"I'm not thirsty." She lied if only to be allowed to drift to sleep sooner. Her throat was dry, but it was too much effort to rehydrate right now.
He shook the bottle. "Drink it, or else you are going to hate me in the morning."
"I'm starting to hate you right now." She grumbled under her breath and obliged, bringing it to her lips. The sharp refreshing coldness was enough to bolster her mind towards a single thought. She passed back the water and reached out to place a grey paw against his russet coloured arm. She waited until he met her violet eyes with his green ones, only now noticing his bloodied snout.
"Jesus Nick, are you alright?" she didn't bother keeping the worry out of her voice, her long ears flattening backwards against her skull.
He shrugged, "I'm fine Cottontail. It's just a bloody nose, look it's already stopped bleeding."
"I'm sorry Nick, I'm sorry you had to go through that." She said but was promptly surprised when his paw came up to squeeze her lips shut. He pulled away after a moment, satisfied to have her attention.
"Judy don't, please just don't. We can talk about this later, you need to rest." His voice was warm and commanding and his presence soothing, so she wasn't surprised when a yawn escaped her. She would think about the other reactions she had to his presence another time because now she just wanted to sleep.
Unable to argue, she just laid back and muttered, "Tomorrow then." She hoped he heard the silent invitation to join her. Because they would talk about it tomorrow, she'd make sure of it. Because she knew how Nicholas P. Wilde handled this sort of thing. He'd slide on a mask and pretend he didn't care. Her eyes drifted to sleep with the determination to keep that promise.
She awoke alone with a headache and no memory of the night before. No memory except that Vodka had been involved. And a new realisation that Vodka was the devil's drink, not the Tasmanian Devils mind you, but the devil that she'd been warned about in church as a child.
She was glad no one else was in her apartment as she stood up and went to the tiny bathroom to answer natures call. Afterwards, she made her way to the kitchen area of her apartment, it was no more than a fridge, microwave, and sink but she'd bought the other necessities needed to survive. She turned on the kettle and retrieved a mug. She wanted to sigh in despair that she only had instant coffee and not even a pot but even that level of enthusiasm was painful.
But she still didn't remember after her morning coffee, instead slipping back into bed tiredly.
If it upset her that Nick seemed a bit distant for the next week, she didn't connect the two and just chalked it up to Nick being Nick. He may have been a bit stiff but she had seen where he lived, it wasn't surprising. He literally lived under a bridge. But she had been looking out for him and constantly reminded him to find an apartment.
She wouldn't remember it until weeks later, closer to two months to be precise. She'd only recall the events when a simple patrol turned into a case that threw a curveball at her vulpine friend and threatened to tear them apart.
