Nick hoped that this night would be enough for him. That it would offer some sort of reprieve from the onslaught of emotions he'd been dealing with lately. It had been nearly seven years since he'd last seen Judy Hopps. After their breakup all those years ago, their lives took different courses. They got their respective promotions, and now worked at precincts on opposite sides of the city. Only when he saw her last week for a crossover case did he have the gumption to ask her out for drinks to catch up.
He loved her. He really did love her. But fate was a cruel mistress, and somehow made him a fox, and her a rabbit. They were not destined to be together. And this was a fact too uncomfortable to digest whole, so he settled on ordering another drink to help wash it down.
"Hah, really? This place?" Judy's voice was dripping with amusement.
Nick's ears perked up almost instinctively at the sound of her, causing a slightly clumsy 180 swivel in his chair, "Hey, Carrots. Well. You can't blame a fox for trying to be sentimental."
"Cheese and crackers, Nick," she huffed, ambling up to the stool beside his, "If we were really going for sentimental here we could've just hooked up in the back of Finnick's van."
He almost choked on his drink before laughing, "Oh, so we're going there now. And I thought this meet-up was just going to be all boring small talk. You're somehow classier than I remember."
Hedge's was a dive bar nestled right on the edge of Savannah Central. Owned by an old, blinding hedgehog by the name of Hedgward, it gained a cult following by many of the locals for its low prices and strong liquor. It was a place often frequented by Nick and Judy in their heyday. Various nights they'd seek solace in the many dark corners of the bar to privately make out in, with Nick always silently thanking the vision-impaired owner for the uneven lighting situation.
In perfect coincidence, she quipped back, "Given our history? I was anything but classy with you."
"Ah, true. What with you hustling me and keeping that carrot pen of yours to blackmail me with," he smirked.
"Hey, no fair! You hustled me first, remember?"
"I'm kidding, I'm kidding! I was referring to your classiness when you'd literally drag me to the corner over there like some savage bunny to paw me under the ta-"
"Haha whoaaa there-" she punched his arm- "you pretty much begged for those moments of canoodling!"
"Ow! What is it with you and the punching? You severely underestimate yourself sometimes, Carrots."
"That, or you've just been severely overestimating your ability to take a soft hit."
This was nice. Comfortable, actually. All those years melted away before them, and it was as if nothing had changed. Just like that, they'd skipped the awkward formalities and were able to fall back into their friendly banter before he could even order her a drink. He missed this.
"So, first drink. On me." He jabbed a thumb to his chest. "Will you be having the usual? Carrot alcohol with carrot juice and frozen carrot cubes in a carrot glass with carrot garnish?"
"Har har," with an eyeroll, Judy turned to face him more directly, "if you're referring to a carrot mojito, then yes. That'll be the usual."
"Same difference. All right, sweetheart. One carrot mojito-" he stuck his foreclaw in his mouth, followed with a blechhh sound - "coming right up!"
As Nick ordered her drink, a sense of déjà vu washed over him. This bar. This drink. These lights. Though so much time had passed, the memories came flooding back in a welcoming embrace. He felt warm. Then again, he always did around Judy. He began to wonder if she ever missed this too.
Sighing, he began to run a forefinger around the rim of his glass. He was...nervous all of a sudden. Though he'd spent years building his walls and studying his actions, he still surprised himself by how easily Judy was able to get to him.
"Hey, what's up?" she reached out a paw to steady his concentrated circling. Swiftly getting a read on his nervous quirk.
Nick's arm twitched at the sudden intimacy. He came close to pulling away, but scratched that idea altogether. Nick would've done that before, but not now. Somehow, he liked to think he'd grown since then.
Green eyes met bright amethyst.
A beat.
He cleared his throat, "So uh...how are you and your husband...?"
"...Liam? We're good, actually. Pretty great, yeah." she smiled, but somehow he felt it was artificial. Or maybe he was just hoping it translated as such.
"Y-yeah? I heard you popped out some kits too?"
"Mhmm. Just three - Jacob, Jason and Lily. They're definitely a handful, but I love them. I do not know how my parents dealt with two hundred and seventy-five."
"A handful, huh? No surprise there. If they have Judy Hopps DNA, then those kits are a force to be reckoned with."
"I'll try and take that as a compliment."
"It is one. The more you the better. The more you the best, really."
Nick's bout of sincerity was quickly interrupted by the doe bartender, "Carrot mojito, fer the luhvuhlee rabbit!" she drawled, placing Judy's drink in front of her with a less-than-graceful hoof.
Judy sipped it in approval. Reverting back to Nick's direction, he noticed she could smile this time without artifice, "Aww thank you, Nick. And here I thought you were just going to make fun of me all night."
He could've taken that out. Easily calculating his next maneuver to redirect the conversation toward something more lighthearted, but he held back any jivey response he had. "What can I say? You were pretty much the best thing that ever happened to me."
The weight behind those words elicited a sharp intake of breath on her end. Her smile began to falter, and her eyes reflexively darted away, their gaze finding refuge in the orange of her drink. God damn it, Nick. Slow down and get a grip. Don't freak her out with your sudden barrage of emotions.
"Nick, that's-"
"I miss you. So much."
Though she had broken their gaze, the vulpine's eyes never diverted from her. He could recall every trace and outline of Judy Hopps like the back of his paw, but appreciating her image in person was something time had robbed him of. He wanted to take her all in before she left again. Her scent, her voice, the feel of her fur, the looks she gave him when he told her his corny jokes. God, he hadn't realized how much he needed this.
When she glanced over again, her eyes were glassy.
"Nick...what are we doing here? What was the point of-" she made an open gesture to encompass her surroundings- "all of this?"
"No, no, it's not what you think. I don't have any ulterior motive here, I just - fuck. I really did just want to catch up. I missed you. I was stupid back then, okay? I..." His voice trailed off. There you go again, Slick Nick. Screwing everything up. You sound like a real sleazy fox.
"What? That was a long time ago, okay? You were a dumb fox, and I was an even dumber emotional bunny, and we weren't able to figure it out. I know was joking and being flirty before, but I-I didn't know it would lead here. I-I'm happy now," her words came out firm, but the quaver of her voice betrayed their intent.
"I know that. But...for me, I don't know, I just wanted to see you."
"And what? Try and win me back?"
"No, Judy," his paws shot out in front of him, grabbing her shoulders, "You're not a commodity to be won. You're so much more than that, and-"
"Why do you keep saying all these suave things like it'll change anything?"
His arms dropped to his sides, "You know me, Carrots. I would never try to be Slick Nick or use lines on you. I care about you. I never stopped caring about you."
She was crying. Real tears. Her fur was matted, and her bottom lip quivered. The weight of what he was doing to her was something Nick wasn't strong enough to bear. Not again. He disappointed her once already, and he didn't want to add more salt to the wound.
"I'm sorry. Please, just don't hate me, Judy" Nick's tail wrapped around the barstool. If he could wrap it around himself tight enough to make his very existence in any way smaller, he would have.
"I'm going to the bathroom," she replied meekly.
Panic-stricken, his ears shot back against his skull, "Judy, I-"
"Don't worry, Nick. I'm not leaving. I really am just going to the bathroom. I'll be right back." She took a deep breath and downed the rest of her drink, scrambling off the stool and making her way toward the bathroom.
Her fragile facade was gone. He hurt her. Again. Idiot.
Jesus, he really hadn't become a better mammal after all. Truthfully speaking, he probably hoped for something more than just to catch up and chat. Maybe he hadn't realized it yet, but subconsciously this was all a sly guise in a hopeful attempt to win her back.
He did that a lot when she was around. He hoped.
She was the determined country bunny who tried everything and achieved everything. Sheer grit and ambition were traits intrinsic to her, and it was this moxie that Nick came to love. He was the cynical con fox who shamelessly gave up and quit, mostly because it was easier that way. Completely not a trier. But Judy practically emanated hope from her very pores and obliterated any thoughts of cynicism in proximity.
So, yeah. Around her, it was easy for him to fall victim to hope again.
It was selfish.
"If it's any consolation, I could never hate you."
Once again caught off guard, he whipped his muzzle around to meet her. "Really?"
"Yes, really. Dumb fox," she smoothly retorted. She was smug. That was a good sign. The fur below her eyes were dry now, brushed back askew, the only sign of their previous altercation a mere tinge of red on her waterline.
Helping her back up to find her seating, Nick regained his composure. "I really am sorry. For back then. I should have tried harder. I should have fought for us more. I don't want you to think I gave up on you, or even the thought of you. I never did," a sigh, "I just gave up on me."
Judy blinked. "Nick, I tried so hard to make it work. You were great as my best friend, and even more amazing as my boyfriend. But when it came down to the hard stuff - being in a relationship - you closed yourself off. I could only try so much before I gave up too."
Nick didn't quarrel. He knew as well as anyone that even the best animal had their limits.
"But," she continued, "you were right. Back then, I mean."
"Seriously?" He tried to stifle his look of incredulity. "About what, exactly?"
"Everything. Maybe I WAS too optimistic sometimes. I mean, Zootopia isn't a perfect place. A fox and a bunny? In the long run, we couldn't make that work, yeah? The city would tear us apart. The press would go berserk over the ZPD's most decorated officers. Our parents. Having kits," she listed, "Etcetera, etcetera. I needed your dose of realism."
"I was a cynic, Carrots. Not a realist."
"You were being realistic, Nick. Your thought process had logic to it. And look at us now. Look at what we've been able to become. You're Detective Wilde now!"
"Heh, yeah. Speak for yourself, Lieutenant Hopps," he said, downing another portion of his drink.
"What I'm saying is...we did good for ourselves with the time apart. You're over at Precinct Twenty now, and I'm back at Precinct One. I have a husband, and three lovely kits. And I heard all the vixens are throwing themselves at you. We achieved a lot."
"Got a point there, Fluff," he mused. "We would've just held each other back from our goals if we stayed together. Became runaway thieves, even. Stealing from the rich and giving to the poor in order to survive."
Judy winced. "Are you casting aspersions on my positivity here?"
"I would never!" he barked, right paw raised, "But I'm just saying that - you know what, never mind."
She quirked an eyebrow.
He had to finish this on a good note. He didn't want to pry any more than what was welcome. So, he began to cauterize the wound he hadn't meant to rip open.
"Don't read into it," Nick added, "You're right. We're at good places in our lives, and I couldn't ask for more." He raised a glass, "To friendship?"
"Above all else," she said, raising her empty glass to meet his.
Nick wanted to tell her he'd been wrong before. To lay out all of his feelings like facts in a case file, and go over them point by point. He would fight hard this time around. Teeth and claw. There was a rabbit-sized hole in his life whose existence he only recently acknowledged, and he desperately wanted to fill that void with any-and-all things Judy.
But she was happy now. Moved on, and content.
Greedy, Nick. Meeting up with her was more than you could ever ask for. Don't push it.
So, they spent the next two hours catching up, and nothing more. She shared pictures of her kits. He showed her his recent selfies with his mom. Small talk. Cop jokes. Precinct drama. They carefully orchestrated their dialogue in a manner that kept them from skirting off the edge.
"Hey, bar's closing in ten minutes. Any last drinks you two'd lahk to order?"
Nick looked at the bartender, then back to Judy. "You know what, I think I'm good. Anything for you, Jude?"
Ruminating for just a moment, she shook her head in reply. "Nah. I should probably get going. Walk me out?"
"Sure thing, Carrots."
Leaving Hedge's, the cool night air enveloped them like a comfy sweater. Judy exhaled in respite, illuminated only by a dingy lamplight nestled above her. Nick could feel himself getting warm again.
"This was really nice, Nick. I'm glad we could see each other after everything."
"Yeah, we should really do this again sometime." He lingered on the last phrase, hoping it didn't sound too contrived.
"Mm," she rolled forward on the balls of her feet in agreement. "Well, I should get going now. Gotta catch the subway before all the creepy jerks come out, y'know."
"What?" he asked, puzzled, "you still take the subway? Don't you have a roomy bunny sedan to lug you and the kits around?"
"Wellll, I'm afraid Liam's got custody of that tonight."
"Yeah, but at 2 am? Don't tell me he's got some mistress he needs to sneak around in the sedan with."
Judy flinched. Her expression dropped for just a moment before abruptly snapping back to its original position. "Hah, n-no. Nothing like that. Sometimes he drives the sedan around to help get the smallest one to fall asleep is all."
Odd. To any mammal without night vision her facial blunder would've been barely visible under the shadow of the lamplight, but to Nick? That flicker of emotion was as clear as the cut of her voice. But he decided not to press the issue.
"All right, but no need for the subway ride, Judes. I'm driving you home."
"No way! I can't put you out like that. It's fine."
"What about the creeps, huh? I insist. Please."
"But didn't you come from the Rainforest District? Do not want to make you do that. What with your sports car getting horrible mileage on top of that, and-"
"Carrots! Stop arguing with me. Plus, I traded that in years ago. Got a Coyote Prius now. Doesn't roar like Lionheart, but it sure is fuel efficient."
Judy bit her lip in hesitation, and Nick could see the wheels in her head begin to turn. "I...I..."
"Just let me do this, please. I have no hidden agenda other than to get you home. And then I'll be out of your fur."
"Fiiine," she sighed in defeat, "I'll hitch a ride with you."
"Hmm, that does not sound like the kind of enthusiasm I hoped to hear. Didn't I just save you from a bunch of creepos that wanted to prey on some, well, prey?"
She gave him a playful nudge. "Hey, who's the creepy predo here when you were the one begging me to get in your car?"
"Ouch. Real blow to my gallantry, Lieutenant Fluff," he responded, paw covering his heart in mock hurt.
"Joking! Thank you, Nick. You really didn't have to."
"And what kind of gentlemammal would I be if I didn't?" he said, steering them to his parked car. "In you go," he finessed the door open in one brisk movement and motioned for her to get in.
"Wow," Judy lamented in awe, paw running over the dashboard, "it's so clean!" She took a quick peek at the floor. "And no Bug Burga bags everywhere? Nicholas Wilde, what you have you become?"
"Hey hey, you don't have paw pads! No touching the dash!"
"Hmm. I'm surprised. Your sports car was red. I thought red was your favorite color. This one's blue."
"What's with the interrogating? Aren't you supposed to be off duty?" he countered, a little vexed by her line of questioning.
"Sorry, it's just - you really have changed a lot."
"Just because my car is clean and it's not red? I think you're overanalyzing a little. Save the investigating for a more interesting case."
"Alll riiiiight," she muttered, "you're no fun."
He shot her a shit-eating grin. "Always the ruiner, I am," he said, putting the car in drive, "So where is the humble abode, hmm?"
"You're gonna take a left up here."
"Carrots, no need to give step-by-step instructions. Remember? Not only do I know everybody, but I also know every street in Zootopia. Just tell me your address and my amazingbrainpower will get us there."
"Okay, but please don't read into it."
"Why would I read into it?"
A tiny groan from her end, "Just don't okay? Take me to the Grand Pangolin Arms."
Okay, I'm definitely reading into it. "Wh-what? You're telling me that you, your husband, and your three little guys can fit into that tiny tuna can of an apartment? Why would you move back there?"
"They don't live there. And...I didn't move back there. Well, I did, kinda. I do, I mean. I just have a temporary lease on it."
"Why?"
"I said don't read into it, okay?"
"Judy, did something happen between you and Liam?"
"NO! I mean, kind of? I don't know! Not really. It's nothing! I'm just spending some time down at my old apartment because it's close to the station. Please, just drive."
For the second time that night, she was crying. Nick pretended he didn't notice, so instead he obeyed Judy's wishes and continued the drive home.
The next ten minutes were spent in insurmountable silence; Nick keeping his eyes locked far ahead, and Judy fiddling with her seatbelt, occupying herself with the sleekness of its fabric. She was deliberating something, but he couldn't get a clear read on what it was.
He finally pulled up to her street, parking right at her old stoop. Instantly, he was bathed in nostalgia. He didn't want to leave. Not again. Not if it meant saying goodbye to her without the promise of tomorrow. Especially in this state.
She rotated to face him. And, as if reading his mind, asked, "Do you want to come up?"
It was barely audible, and while phrased like a question, there was a sense of pleading in there that Nick could not ignore. An opening. Hope.
"Yes."