Anthony Bogo is not having a good day.

A computer holding critical information decided to freeze at the station, one of his officers had been sent to the Zootopia Veterinary Hospital after a chase, and now he is late for dinner with his adopted daughter.

And Judy always worries when he isn't right on time.

But then he sees a teenage European Fox clearly loitering outside a Snarlbucks on his way back from giving backup to McHorn. Just as Bogo turns his cruiser around a corner – windows rolled down, ears pricked, and eyes on the rearview mirror – he sees the Fox sprint away with a Giant Panda's briefcase.

The Fox gives a good chase, but surprisingly doesn't protest that much with the arrest other than a few sarcastic quips as Bogo handcuffs him and puts him in the back of the car.

"What's your name, kid?" the Wildebeest asks as he starts the ignition, one hoof on the steering wheel.

The Fox puts up the heels of his back paws on the dividing wall, acting for all the world as if he's riding in a limousine. "Nick Wilde."

"Paws down, Mr. Wilde. I need to be able to see the road."

"Mr. Wilde?" The Predator raises an eyebrow and flashes a toothy grin. "I didn't realize getting my first lift to the Big House was so formal." He puts a front paw to his chest dramatically and sarcastically adds, "I'm honored. Really."

"Paws. Down."

Nick obeys, and the Wildebeest sighs. "So this is your first arrest?"

"Yep."

"First time stealing?"

When the Fox doesn't answer, Bogo meets the teenager's gaze through the rearview. "You're young, kid. Why are you doing something that will end up ruining your life?"

"Because money's tight?" Nick retorts with forced nonchalance, but Bogo can see the anger behind the young Predator's eyes. "Because I'm a Fox, and hardly anyone will give me a decent job?" He barks out a mirthless laugh. "And if I get one, animals have literally requested that I not serve them. I don't hold jobs very long," Nick adds, and a muscle in his thin jaw clenches. "But I get it. I'm a Fox. Everyone had expected me to be a good-for-nothing swindler my whole life. So I'm really just going with the flow, officer."

Bogo's never been good with encouragement and comforting words, but… he has to try.

"You don't have to give in to expectations."

"Oh, really?"

"Don't give me lip, kid. I'm just trying to help." Maybe Judy would tell him to lower his voice, to not freak out the Fox, but Judy never talked back this much.

As if right on cue, his phone rings, and he lifts one of his front hooves from the steering wheel to his Bluefang on his ear. "Officer Bogo."

"Hey Dad!" comes Judy's bright voice through the phone. "I was wondering when you'd get home. I have dinner waiting."

A rare smile tugs on Bogo's lips. "Thanks. I just have to drop off this kid at the station and then I'll be home. Don't wait for dinner for me."

"A kid?" Judy says, concerned.

"Well, he's not exactly a kid, he's…" Bogo looks back at the Fox behind the barrier. "How old are you?"

"Seventeen."

"He's seventeen, Judy."

The Rabbit suddenly laughs under her breath as a timer dings on her end. "Is he cute?" she says absentmindedly as Bogo hears her take a pan out of the oven. "Don't ask him that. I made vegetable lasagna, but I may have put not enough carrots in, because they were just so tempting as I was chopping them for the recipe…"

Bogo stops at a red light and looks over his shoulder at Nick. "My daughter wants to know if you're cute."

Judy gasps in his ear. "Dad!"

Nick's ears prick up. "Is your daughter cute? Is she a Wildebeest?"

Bogo glares as the light changes. "She's a Rabbit. Answer the question."

"What? Dad, don't ask him!" Judy protests.

The Fox smirks. "I want to say yes, sir."

"He says yes, Judy."

"I was kidding! You didn't have to actually have him answer!"

"See you at home, Judy," Bogo says with a rumbling laugh, and Nick puts his back paws up again on the dividing wall.

"See you," Judy says with a long sigh, but there's a smile in her voice. "Love you."

"Love you too."

His adoptive daughter hangs up, and Bogo fixes Nick with a stare. "Paws down, Mr. Wilde," he says, but without his trademark gruffness.

"Yes, sir."