Disclaimer: Zootopia is not mine. If it was, I would have been busy plotting a sequel instead of writing this lame disclaimer.
A/N: Hi guys! This is a (literal) plot bunny I needed to get out of my system before returning to Berliner. I have a special place in my heart for the 'five times-one time oneshots', so here it is: five times Judy taught Nick a valuable lesson, and the one time she asked him to return the favor.
Lucky shots
1
"So what's the deal with the word 'cute'?"
Through a half-lidded stare, Judy's eyes met Nick's in the mirror before returning to the road in front of her. They had given up on car games about an hour ago, which left Nick with very few ideas to entertain himself with. A traffic jam in Zootopia could be difficult to get through. A traffic jam due to a protest on Savannah Square though: absolutely hopeless. Nick had learned that much in his two months at the force.
There was an upside, however. This little joyride gave him ample opportunity to rile up his favorite bunny. Honestly, what else was he supposed to do?
The bunny in question sighed deeply, and popped another blueberry into her mouth. She took her time chewing it, as if she hadn't already decided what to answer. Which she totally had. She was just taunting him.
"You're not allowed to call a bunny cute. Bunnies are allowed to call each other cute. Simple as that."
"Why."
Judy's eyes rolled heavenwards, probably wishing someone would make him shut up already. "It's condescending."
"It's a compliment," Nick challenged, picking at his shiny badge.
His partner huffed. "Would you consider it a compliment if I called you a fire truck?"
This was just way too easy. Nick grinned and reached for another berry. "No, that would be more like stating the obvious. Like calling the grass green."
Judy raised her eyebrows. "So is calling a bunny cute."
Hook, line and sinker. The fox raised his muzzle and grasped his chin in mock perplexity. "Now was that a humble brag? Tsk tsk, Carrots, and here I was thinking you had raised yourself above that kind of narcissistic talk. What would your parents say about that, huh?"
As amusing as that was, she didn't bring him his favorite blueberries for a week after that day. Nick reckoned that's what you get for calling a bunny cute. He made sure never to repeat that mistake.
2
"Hey, Nick."
Reddish leaves crumpled underneath her weight, echoing the uncertainty in her steps as she came to a halt only a couple of feet behind him. He had heard her coming. He'd recognize that annoyingly adorable skippy rise and fall everywhere. He had just chosen to ignore it. Ignore her, because... he had about ten different reasons for that, to be honest.
"You didn't show up for parking duty." A long pause, and she cleared her throat. It was strange to hear her be at a loss for words. "I know it's a rookie's job, and I know the vest clashes horribly with your fur, but we all got to do it sometime. And for me, it actually turned out really well, didn't it…?"
Nick couldn't even manage a shrug. She deserved more than his silence, he thought bitterly.
"Chief Bogo introduced the new recruits today. Well, he didn't really introduce them, you know how he is, Captain grumpy-bum, but one of the newbies almost sat on me. Seriously, I almost got crushed by a giant rhino's but."
She lapsed into silence after that. His ears picked up the rustle of fabric as she tried to warm herself by rubbing her paws up and down her torso. He should probably feel cold—the rain had been seeping into his fur for hours—but on this day he usually didn't feel much at all.
"You know what, Nick, I also—"
"Carrots, I appreciate the thought, I really do. I just... I think it's better if you leave me be for a bit." His voice sounded strange, like he had swallowed an entire pawpsicle and it was now lodged in the back of his throat. He hadn't spoken a single word the entire day. That was probably the reason.
"I just... I was worried, Nick."
Nick couldn't suppress the reflexive tensing of his shoulder muscles. "Well, there's no reason to be. I've been on my own since I was twelve. Today's no different. Goodbye, Judy."
He needed her to leave. He really needed her to leave. Nick wasn't afraid she was going to see that something 'got' to him. She already had, months ago. He was afraid he was going to lose control, that he was going to lash out at her because she didn't, nor couldn't, understand. His claws might be sharp but his tongue was sharper, and he would irreparably break what they had.
It shouldn't have surprised him that she would try to persuade him.
"You're not alone. We're partners, Nick, which means you're stuck with me. And I'm not going anywhere when my partner needs me," Judy stated, her voice bouncing off the vertical tiles around them.
Damn it. Damn it. Damn her and her inability to just let things go. Barely half a year ago she had waltzed into his comfortable existence, hustled him into a deal that nearly cost him his life, and before he knew it she was as much of a constant as the rising and falling of the sun. Nick wanted to be angry with her for making him dependent again, he wanted to feel bitterness for this sudden urge to have her shoulder to lean on, and most of all he wanted to lash out at her for every time his chest clenched with fear at the thought of losing it all—of losing her.
He had always told himself he would eventually regret signing up to be her partner. There would come a day that this life would be torn from Nick's futile grasp. Luck just didn't tend to swing his way.
Nick felt her soft paw tentatively slip into his and squeeze tightly. He returned the pressure with equal strength.
To hell with it, Nick thought. To hell with it all. He was far too deep in anyway. Trying to resist her stubbornness was like trying to resist the charming dance of a flame; he could already smell the smoke.
"Mom, this is Judy," Nick began softly. "Judy, meet mom."
3
"What's that on your cheek?"
"It's called fur, Nick. Pretty sure there's some of it on your face too."
The fox rolled his eyes (they seemed to be doing that a lot lately, he thought fleetingly), and he leaned over to her side of the car. His right paw gently grasped her chin, thumb grazing over her whiskers as he tilted her head backwards to inspect her face more closely. Her eyes grew big and she let out a small yelp, her left arm pushing the offending limb away.
"Hello?! Personal space, please?" The bunny said in an exasperated tone, her nose twitching. "It's probably carrot juice, okay?! I had some of that half an hour ago."
Nick ignored her and leaned in again, his eyes trying to detect the subtle irregularity he had caught in the glow of the sunlight. She was usually the one in the driver seat, despite her questionable driver skills, but since they were on a stakeout he had called dibs. Which was why he had never noticed.
"No, it's not," Nick said, and he was surprised by the anger seeping into his voice. "It's a claw mark. Who did that to you?"
If Judy was surprised by his anger, she didn't show it. "It's not important, Nick. It was a long time ago."
"And?" He casually leaned back in his seat, but his galloping heartbeat betrayed him. "If it happened a long time ago, you can tell me who it was."
"So you can do what? Arrest them? I was nine, Nick."
"Which means that it used to cover half of your face!" Nick exclaimed.
The bunny groaned, throwing her hands up in the air. "It doesn't matter, Nick!"
"It matters to me!" he shot back.
"It was freakin' Gideon, okay?! Happy now?"
He fell silent after her outburst, but not because he was satisfied. The temporal lobes of his brain tried to connect the dots for him. "Gideon… Why does that name sound so familiar…?"
"Just let it go, Nick..."
Gideon... Wasn't he the son of his third aunt...? "Wait a second... Gideon, as in, Gideon Gray? Pastry baker Gideon?" Nick roughly rubbed his face with his paws. This didn't make any sense.
Judy groaned, letting her head fall on the dashboard with a soft thump. "That's the one."
"Isn't that the same guy you told me your parents are working with now?"
Judy nodded, her head still on the dash.
Was that why she hadn't wanted to tell him? Because he was a fox too? Nick glanced out the window, his eyes watching their lead smoke a cigarette on his balcony, but his brain not registering the image. A flash of doubt flooded his mind, and Nick couldn't help but wonder if he'd been too naïve to think that anything had changed. He thought she had become less judgmental of his species, only she wouldn't have evaded his questioning like that if there wasn't any more distrust lingering in her mind. Right?
"No, no, Nick," she said quickly, her paw clasping his right arm and shaking him gently. "I didn't keep this from you because Gideon is a fox. I kept this from you because this was a long time ago, and he apologized to me, and I don't want to be someone to hold a grudge. That's just not who I am."
He would never tell anyone, especially not her, but his heart swelled with pride in that moment. Months ago, her change of heart had changed him too, and in little moments like these he was reminded of everything she had done for him. She would never realize that though, and he would never find a way to say thank you that would be good enough for a partner like her.
"I know. I'm sorry." Nick reached for his glasses and took a sip of his now cold cup of coffee. His heart had settled again, and he slowly exhaled in quiet relief.
"But if I ever catch that guy with a claw pointing in the wrong direction, I'm fox-pepper-spraying that SOB like there's no tomorrow."
Hey, he might be a fox, but even he had his principles.
Judy's head connected with the dashboard again as she groaned loudly.
4
"Nick. I need you to stay with me. Nick!"
Paws were on his face, slapping him, pulling harshly on the whiskers of his muzzle. Nick attempted to pull away, but his head felt heavy, as if someone had replaced his trademark sunglasses with bricks. Maybe that was why it was so dark in here?
Oh, hang on. His eyes were still closed. With great difficulty, Nick cracked open his right eye.
Officer Judy Hopps. No surprise there.
Fear had carved ragged lines into the smooth surface of her round face, her lavender eyes big with tears threatening to leave eyelashes, which she angrily blinked away when she kneeled closer to him. She seemed to be moving slowly, like her body had lost the gravity of the earth, and Nick's eyes slowly wandered down her neck, to her arms and to the red handkerchief balled up in one paw. The other was gripping a com.
"—need help! Officer Wilde is down, I repeat, officer Wilde is down!"
Officer Wilde…wait…was she talking about him? That's me, right? Nick's muddled mind was at a complete loss, and in the background Judy's voice became more and more persistent in trying to draw his attention.
"—going to hurt, okay, Nick? I'm sorry, I'm sorry but I have to." He wanted to ask her what the heck she was talking about, why she was gripping his right shoulder so tightly—had she suddenly forgotten he had serious intimacy issues?—and what on earth had gotten into her anywa—
Pain. White hot pain. A probably-worse-than-getting-iced-alive kind of pain.
A waterfall of I'm sorry's and please spilled from Judy's throat, nearly drawing out the siren that sounded so close to them and so similar to a howl. Nick could feel his muscles spasm, he felt the warm blanket of blood matting his fur, and he wished desperately for it all to end.
He hadn't wished for something like that in a long time.
An eternity passed and the siren died down, leaving his body cold and drained of energy. His tail twitched in the faded light of a lantern overhead, casting long shadows over the bricks of their private alley. He must have blacked out for a moment after that, because he didn't remember Judy pulling him close to her. His ears were tucked underneath her chin, reminding him of his mother, and her paw maintained a firm pressure on his left collarbone. He shivered, and she silently pulled him closer.
Nick had never been this cold in his entire life, not even when he had been homeless. He was certain that could only mean one thing.
"Judy... I don't think I'm going to ma—"
"Stop it. Stop it right there, you hear me?" Her voice trembled, resonating in his chest, and his mind clung to her words in a way his weakened body wanted to.
"You're going to be fine. You're going to be just fine, because you're my partner. And partners don't give up on each other, okay?"
Something wet dropped on his muzzle, but he couldn't find the strength to raise his eyes to meet hers. Still, he got the message. Loud and clear. It was only one of the many partner rules she had taught him, and would teach him in the future.
And she would end him if he dared to break her rules.
5
"Hey there, partner."
Fluffy bunny ears stirred. Nick watched as they flicked to the monitor on his left, then to the hoofs of a gazelle passing his room, and back to him. He had been watching her sleep for a solid five minutes and he had established the things were just like antennas. Only way cuter.
The bunny rubbed the sleep from her eyes, and he waited patiently. She had barely gotten to her right eye when both lavender globes popped open.
"Nick!" She exclaimed, her face lighting up. "You're awake!"
The fox leaned back in his bed, a lazy grin reflecting how relieved he felt to see his partner. "Yep. I guess I am. You here to take my statement, officer Hops?"
"Pretty sure Chief Bogo would have my tail if I would do that," she joked softly, yet it didn't quite reach her eyes. In the short time he had woken, he hadn't missed how her eyes had glided to the monitor for the third time now. As if the gentle beeping of the machine was more reassuring than the real thing.
Then again, to her it probably had been for the past couple of hours.
"I'm okay, Carrots. A little banged up, but still kicking." He offered, his voice low. He wanted to grasp her paw, hold her somehow and offer more comfort than just empty words, but his body wouldn't allow it. The monitor beeped a little more insistently, and despite his frustration Nick settled into the pillow again.
Getting knife sucked. Big time.
"Easy there, Nick," Judy whispered. She moved to sit on the side of the bed, her paw steadying him. Strangely, her grip felt like it was searing a paw-shaped pattern into his fur.
"Not something that was on my bucket list, you know," he admitted, and he heard Judy huff with amusement.
"Not on mine, either," she retaliated. Through heavy eyelids, Nick watched her as she fiddled with the white sheets, her nose twitching. He had learned quickly how to be patient with her, the signs that told him to wait for her to speak, because she sometimes needed a little time to find the right words.
"I've never... We've never... I'm not sure I can go back into the field after that, Nick, no, let me finish," she stopped him when he opened his mouth. "You almost died. You almost died and there wasn't a thing I could do about it. I was the one who made you join ZPD. If something had happened to you, if you had..." she looked away, her paws clasping together in an uncharacteristic sign of anxiety and guilt. "I would never be able to forgive myself."
He'd heard that sentence before, and he wasn't going to allow her to drag herself through the mud again.
"First of all, you never made me join ZPD. I believe that was an entirely voluntarily decision which had nothing to do with a carrotcam nor a tax registration form." A wet chuckle escaped her mouth, and Nick counted that as a victory before ploughing on.
"Second of all, you saved my life, Judy. I wouldn't be here if it hadn't been for you. And I'm glad I am. Becoming your partner was the best decision I've ever made in my entire life."
A tear wet the fur of her right cheek. "Really?" The bunny squeaked. "You really mean that?"
Nick lifted his right paw and grinned. "Scout's honor."
She stared at him, almost long enough to make him feel uncomfortable, until she had suddenly launched herself at him, her arms latching onto him in a grip so strong it knocked the breath out of him. Nick ignored the burning pain travelling from his collarbone to his ribs—mother that hurt—and he wrapped his arms around her trembling form. A soft sob echoed in her chest when Nick unconsciously ran one paw down her long fluffy ears.
"Alright, come here, Carrots," Nick muttered fondly. "You bunnies always get so emotional."
1
"Please teach me."
Nick sighed, slipping off his glasses to pinch the bridge of his muzzle with his paw. "I really don't see the point, Carrots."
"Our lives could depend on it!" She proclaimed, stretching out her legs in the soft grass. They were off duty, spending a lovely day in the comforting sunlight of spring. Only it would have been a lot lovelier if she would stop haggling him about teaching her something as basic as throwing a darn ball.
"I'm not even going to touch that one. Just ask one of your 400 brothers to teach you."
Judy's eyebrows pulled together in a frown, and by the look on her face Nick knew he was in to lose this round. "193," she corrected absently. "And they're all bunnies! You were the one who told me I throw like a bunny! So, teach me how to throw like a fox."
Nick drew a deep breath. Then another. Her gaze didn't falter.
"Fine! Fine, I'll teach you."
The bunny fist-pumped the air, and hopped to her feet. In a flurry she had produced a baseball from her bag and she was pulling at his wrist, trying to get him to his feet.
Nick raised his eyebrows. "You just happened to have a baseball in your bag? What are you, psychic?"
Judy grinned triumphantly. "I just like to come prepared. Now on your feet, Wilde. Time to teach me something other than a hustle."
End.
