A sleek, black car pulled elegantly around the corner of the dirt track of a country road. The revving of the powerful engine rocketing across the frosted countryside and snow-laden farmland.

It was a sleek convertible - low to the ground with thin tires and the roof detached; the chairs and other furnishings upholstered with a cream colored leather - the driver smirking easily as he steered the cream, leather wheel of the car with one hand, the other arm lent casually on the open window.

The fox gazed as though without a care in the world through the blackened glass of his aviators as he drove the car smoothly along the country tracks... and all the while, the rabbit sat beside him clung to the oversize map she was trying to read, trying to hold it still as it blew and flapped in the bellowing wind of the roofless car defiantly.

"Nick," she shouted against the sound of the revving engine, battling with the map, "why couldn't you buy yourself a decent-fluffing-sized map?"

"This was free," Nick called back with a shrug.

"Free? What does it matter if it's free? On the kind of money we're earning, you could've bought yourself a state-of-the-art SatNav and not notice the difference."

"Don't matter how much you're earning, Carrots," he called to her over the wind, "save a little here, a little there; it all adds up."

"But this... this..." The wind flared up and threw the map into Judy's face, forcing the rabbit to furiously beat it back down into submission before she shouted: "Did you have to get one meant for giraffes?!"

The fox chuckled at the rabbit, adjusting his rear view mirror smoothly as he said: "As I said, it was free. An old mate of mine - who happens to be a giraffe - just didn't need it anymore and said I could have it. Sure it's a little big, but it seemed a waste to turn it down."

Judy swore at the fox. Fortunately, it was lost over the the sound of the wind. "Okay," she said, the car approaching a fork in the road, "I think it's a right up this next one."

"No," Nick said, turning, "we take a left and then carry straight on until we pass the barn."

"I thought you said you've never been here before?"

The fox's brow lowered slowly. "No," he said softly to himself, confused and a little concerned, "...I haven't."

...

Managing to make the rest of the journey with hardly any instructions from the map, Nick pulled the car up to a stop in one of the empty parking spaces outside the front of a large and ornately decorated manner house.

The building was tall and shone warmly in the sun, casting a shadow down upon the earth below in which the fox was parked.

"Wow," Judy said, "look at the size of that place!" Hopping out of the car, the rabbit called back to the fox as he undid his seat belt and stood: "Come on, Nick, I want to get inside and have a look. If the inside's anything like the outside, it'll be glorious. Just look the calving on those chimneys"

"Yeah," said Nick, locking the roof and looking up, "the chimneys... all seven of them." Seven chimneys and seven steps, on a tower the fox felt he know - or felt he should know, anyway. Returning his attention back with a slight shudder, and fox climbed the seven steps and followed the rabbit to the door, which had no bell, but a large, iron knocker shaped into the face of a grotesque.

A wave of nausea hit the fox and his vision suddenly blurred. Rubbing his eyes with the back of a paw, his ear twitched at what sounded something like laughing - 'hohoho'ing even - from somewhere far off... and the iron door knocker was now wearing what looked like a Christmas hat.

"Hey, Nick?" Judy said, putting a paw on his arm, "You okay? You look like you're about to faint."

"I, erh," the fox looked down at the rabbit, "I'm fine Hopps, I just..." he turned back up to the knocker. It was back to it's original shape and the distant laughter was gone... "Nothing, I'm fine."

Before the rabbit could say anything more, the fox reached out to the door knocker and tapped on the door three times. There was a moment of silence, then the door opened, slowly.

"Name, please." The speaker was an elderly horse in a stained, black suit, with hair which looked as though it had once been brown, but had faded into a dull gray. The horse's brown eyes remained bright, however, and looked at Judy sternly as she answered him.

"Hiya," she said, "I'm Judy - Judy Hopps - and this is my good friend, Nick Wilde."

The horse turned to Nick, regarded him for a moment, then turned back. "You are expected," he said slowly, turning away from them and pacing inside. "Do come in, won't you?" he said.

"Thanks," Judy said, following the horse inside through the porch and into the very ornately decorated hall within. There were decorations everywhere they looked: angels hanging from the sealing, fake snowmen waving from the corner of the room,
and one large, festive display in the very center of the hall.

"I expect you will be wanting to refresh yourselves after your journey," he said, slowly, "I shall lead you to your rooms."

"Thanks Mister..." Judy said, "what was your name again?"

Together, Nick, Judy and the butler passed the central display on their way to the staircase; Nick froze at seeing the sledge of presents and the polystyrene snow, staring, dumbfounded, at the pile of pretenses and the cardboard-cutout trees.

"I am Jenkins, the butler."

"Pleasure to meet you, Jenkins. It's a charming place you have here."

"Indeed, Miss Hopps."

"So this is Brandon Storey's house. Has it been in the family long?"

"I really wouldn't know, Miss Hopps, and I am not in the habit of engaging in idle chatter."

"Oh. Well... thank you for your help? What do you think Nick? Nick?" Judy turned at the top of the staircase and saw the fox staring blankly at the pile of presents, wrapped up in the back of the large sleigh.

"Hey, Nick," she called playfully, bringing his attention unsteadily back towards her, "don't get overexcited, those presents are just for decoration; they're not for you."

The fox stared blankly at the rabbit for a long moment, making her playful smile slowly fall into a look of worry. He started walking, without a word, up the staircase towards her, past her, and down the corridor alongside Jenkins... watched through the crack of an open door on the ground floor close by.

...

The eye pulled away as the fox moved out of sight; it's owner, a tall and thin-faced zebra, turning towards a tan-colored cheetah, who stood uneasily by one of a number of tables in this, the dining room.

The zebra was dressed sharply - black suit, tight tie - and with an are of sternness and authority about him. As he moved, his steps were silent and swift, and performed, always, with a sense of immediacy and purpose.

The cheetah was much younger - early thirties - and with a light tan fur patched with darker brown spots. His face was wider and warmer, his cloths more rounded and of a similar color to his fur, and his whiskers twitched uneasily as the zebra turned to him, and he fiddled with the white tablecloth nervously as the zebra spake:

"Well, Jeremy, what do you think of that? Judy Hopps has just arrived, and she's brought Nick Wilde with her."

"It's astonishing," said the cheetah, "Martin, she actually did invite him!"

"Never had any doubt that she wouldn't, that part of it was easy. The real difficulties lie ahead."

"We're really going to go on with it?"

"Of course," he said, picking up a decanter and pouring a glass, "the whole experiment is pointless unless brought to a logical conclusion. Sherry?"

Jeremy frowned at the glass, a look of strong concern crossing his face. "I'm not sure," he said, slowly.

"Oh, come along now Jeremy. You said yourself that his would make a fascinating exercise. And when Janice gets here-"

"Janice?"

"Yes... Janice Crane. She's a real find, my boy. Her powers make you and me look like fumbling beginners." A smile crossing his lips, the zebra pushed the glass of sherry into the cheetah's hands. "We should make the breakthrough tonight."

"Tonight? But, I thought you said... I understood that when Hopps came-"

"Forget the rabbit now, Jeremy," said the zebra, coldly. "Concentrate on the fox."

...

"And here is your room, sir," said Jenkins to the still shaken form of Nick Wilde, "I hope it is to your satisfaction."

Nick slowly turned about, absently gazing around at the Christmas decorations and hanging stockings of the guest bedroom. There was a fireplace, boarded up, a desk and chair, bookshelf, a few other pieces of fine and apparently antique furniture and a large bed with an ornately calved headboard at the top. He turned back around to thank the horse, but the door was already pulled shut.

"Okay," he said, softly, stepping towards the bed and putting his case down upon the floor, "nothing to be worried about, you're just having visions into the future, that's all."

"They say talking to yourself is the first sign of madness, you know."

Spinning around at the voice, Nick saw Judy Hopps as she stepped quietly inside, shutting the door behind her again as she stepped in.

Hopps smiled. "You like your room?"

The fox managed a smile. "Well, the decor is a little outdated, and I'm sure my granny would've owned some furniture similar to this... but it'll do for a day or two."

Passing the fox with a smile, the rabbit hopped up onto the large, ornate bed. She lay back, chuckling lightly as she settled down into the soft cushions, runing a paw along the ornately calved headboard. "I've always fancied myself in one of these," she said, lightly.

"I have too," Nick said.

The rabbit grinned, slyly. "Come again?"

"Oh! I mean, I like this kind also."

Judy giggled, settling further back. "I do love Christmas," she said, cheerfully. "Don't the decorations here just look so beautiful?"

"Yeah... wonderful."

"Which is why I'm so concerned," she added, sitting up with her brows raising towards him, "about your attitude right now."

"My attitude?"

"You're not like this at Christmas - at least, not anymore - I remember early on in our relationship you always became very self-contained and moody around Christmas time, but in the past few years you'd really started getting into the spirit of things. So then you start going in on yourself and shutting of your emotions, and I wonder, what's up?"

The fox sighed as he sat down on the bed beside the rabbit; he could see saying nothing wasn't going to work. "When you went out to buy some food, I fell asleep again. And, I had another dream."

"Which was?"

"I dreamt I was walking through this large forest in wintertime; then I came across a house with seven chimneys and seven steps leading up to the door. There was an old knocker on the door, with a face on it. I went inside, and there was a display of wrapped parcels on a sleigh just inside. Sound familiar?"

Hopps was silent for a long moment. She chewed her lip in thought, then said: "Well, it does sound very similar to this place b-"

"It sounds identical."

"But, I still don't see what you're getting at. You're saying you predicted what we would see here? That you

The fox just shrugged and looked at her levelly.

The rabbit smiled, softly, and climbed down off the bed. "I see why you're concerned, Nick, but I really don't think it's anything to worry about. It's just your imagination."

"But I intuitively knew the directions of how to get here!"

"I know it's a big coincidence, but maybe... I don't know, maybe you came past this way once as a child and somehow just remembered the directions on a subconscious level. What you're describing is impossible. You know that."

"I know that," Nick said, standing, "but I also imagined the death of Freddy a."

"Yes... yes, you did."

"Go on, Hopps," Nick said, opening his case and pulling out a shirt, "you'd better get dressed for the party tonight. I'll see you in ten."

Judy watched the fox thoughtfully as he started to unbutton his shirt, but turned, opened the door, and paced out of the room without a word.