A/N - 12 MAR 17 In my haste to get this story going, I neglected to review them beyond a cursory glance and forgot the usual disclaimer: I do not own Zootopia and misspelt some character names. Past that some minor editing of the chapters posted, and additional a/n on Chap 6.

Chap 2 Tuesdays Gone with the Wind

Tuesday

Judy had been meaning to ask Nick about Heather and the mysterious Miranda since yesterday. Fate seemed to conspire against her though. The mad cap purse snatcher chase, resulting in a multi-car pile up, an overturned food cart full of morphine ampules and a knife wielding drug pusher had put paid to Monday. Now it was the Chief calling Nick down to the Meadowlands to work some contacts alongside narcotics, and that left her at the precinct filling out reports about Monday. Much to her disgust, Nick had somehow already turned in his reports and the Chief had her writing witness statements on top of the regular reports. How in the name of strawberry fields did he finish them? The pile up took me four hours to write up along with the prop damage reports!

Admitting defeat for the moment, she dragged her paws down to see everyone's favorite cheetah, "Ben, I need a distraction."

"Missing Nick that much, eh Judy?" Ben looked down at her, paws on cheeks, elbows resting on the reception desk, grinning ear to ear.

"Of course not. No snarky comments, no off-color jokes makes for a very quiet office. Not to mention six hours of reports!" she practically shouted the last part.

"Awww, you're adorable!"

"Ben," It came out as a growl.

"Ok, ok, bunny," Ben tried to placate Judy.

"On top of it all, Nick had his all turned in before shift start. How did he do that, when I still haven't finished after SIX HOURS OF TYPING AND WRITING AND CALLING WITNESSES FOR STATEMENTS!" she had a full head of steam going.

"Oh, about that, he was already here when I came in."

"That can't be right. We didn't leave the precinct until after 22:00."

"Well, Tucker said he was here around 03:00. If you ask me, that's not good."

"Who's Tucker?"

"One of the third shift dispatchers."

"I wonder what's going on with him? I keep asking, but I can't get a straight answer."

"Who knows. It could be because it's near the end of mating season, but you should keep at him."

"Mating season? Could that be what's wrong?"

"Oh, Judy. You're lucky you don't have to deal with mating season. It can and has driven many to distraction."

"Sure am, judging by the loons we were picking up jaywalking and disturbing the peace. Anyway Ben, back to the flopping reports."

Trudging back to the shared office, Judy couldn't get Ben's comment on mating season off of her mind.

What's it like to have a whole season like that? Could it be anything like a bunny's heat cycle just turned up to max? Come to think of it, Nick seemed fine during the academy and during the first few weeks when he started here. He did look really tired these last two days. Maybe he broke up with someone? I really don't know much about Nick do I? I'm gonna get him to tell me tomorrow.

Resolved, Judy turned back to the pile of papers on her desk. Glancing at the clock she groaned. An hour and half before shift end, if she wanted to get home on time for once.

Interim

Nick stretched and tried to work kinks out of his legs. Working contacts in the Meadowlands had been exciting at first but seven hours of walking and talking took a toll. Wolford and Wolfbert, Nick snorted at the names, were happy to sit in the unmarked car and tail along. He shuddered at the thought of sitting in a car for seven hours. There was a time when he would sit or lay down in a hide for days waiting for a go no go call, but no more.

Today had been satisfying though. An old friend had pointed him to a "pain clinic" that happened to have a hundred missing morphine ampules. Narcotics was ecstatic, as the clinic proved to be a treasure trove of information. This resulted in the arrest of one doctor and two "nurses", not to mention shutting down an opiate supplier. They were still combing through records and there had been a few whistles at the patients list. There would be a few movers and shakers who would need to get into rehab if they wanted to protect their public image.

"Nick, want a lift back to the precinct or you gonna find your own way?" Wolford asked.

"I'll take the lift. Don't wanna leave my baby in the parking lot."

"Which one? That sweet Lynx SC 300 or Hopps?" Wolfbert winked at him.

"Har, har. Now drive on my good mammal. A snifter of rye calls to me."

"Beer not good enough for you Wilde?"

"Hey, I like beer. But nothing beats the hard stuff to get the buzz going after jabberjocking the whole damn day."

"Or you can join us at Speeds' for an ale."

"I would love to, but I have to tuck in a rabbit who has been blowing up my phone about reports."

"Told you it was Hopps."

Nick rolled his eyes at the wolves. It had become something of a tradition of driving Judy home, or to be honest, he became her mandatory taxi once she found out he had a car. Not that he minded, it just added fifteen minutes to his commute. It allowed them to catch up on their day when they weren't patrolling together.

The ride was spent with Nick humming a tune while the wolves argued there definitions of beauty. Tanya Karstula, a Lupes Lupes, for Wolford and Katy Walksfar, a Lupes Occidentalis for Wolfbert. The argument died down and both looked expectantly at Nick.

"What?"

"So which one?"

"Oh. Would you agree that they are both fine specimens of wolf?"

Nods all around.

"Then Tanya. That accent does it for me."

The wolves looked at each other, then back to Nick.

"You've talked to Tanya?" Wolford asked quirking an eyebrow.

"Yes, she found me charming, but she did say that she wished some of the wolves in the precinct would grow a spine."

The wolves looked at each other again, then scrambled to get out of the car. Nick chuckled as he closed the car door, "Poor Katy, defeated by an exotic accent."

The wolves looked back at him, "Laugh it up Wilde. That tune, throwing your sword into the heather and taking a barbarian bride is not exactly subtle," Wolfbert smirked.

"No. Maybe not the bride part, sitting in the Emperor's throne or the hundred marches, but throwing my sword into the heather will happen."

"You've got guts Wilde. At least it wasn't little yellow birdy."