...10.30am

ZPD Officer Hopps, Sahara Square

Judy Hopps couldn't help pacing, her body restless and riled up. Her primal instincts screamed at her, "Danger, danger!" She was in a fox's den, and every sense of her diminutive grey body was telling her to run. It was a hard wired sensation as deeply ingrained as that of burrowing and finding a nice mate and having kittens. But instead of having to deal with the domestic problems of handling a litter of kittens, she was in the natural impossibility of being in a den with two foxes. Her primal ancestors would be rolling over in their graves if they knew. Good thing they didn't know then.

One of those foxes was tall, russet coloured and immaculately dressed, his outfit put together as intricately as laying a trap for unsuspecting prey. Sharp blue eyes and even sharper teeth only strengthened the image of a fierce carnivorous smile. He was dangerous, her inner rabbit told her. And she had absolutely no reason to trust him right now.

The other was shorter, equally crimson and just as passionate about his clothes. His uniform was pristine as though he thought it reflected on his identity as a police officer. His own eyes were even more piercing, his canines revealed in a predatory snarl and Judy felt her knees shaking involuntarily. His ears curled like the two horns of a fallen angel as they peeled back in anger. She had given him her trust long ago during their first case.

But in that moment, she was more scared of him, of Nick, than the criminal sitting only ten feet away. At the sight of the bricks her partner's face had twisted and she could almost hear the slew of curses that stopped at the tip of his tongue. Even now in his fury, he was curbing his vocabulary for Judy's sake.

He'd wanted the fox to be innocent.

Judy Hopps was an optimist, go-getter and, as Nick often said, a little ray of sunshine so bright it was sickening to his cynical self. But she was not oblivious. She'd noticed something was wrong with him this morning, had been wrong with him since the case began. First him getting to work before she did, then the paperwork and his grouchiness towards Oliver were all evidence. But she was starting to wonder if there was more to that. Because there had to be if Nick was acting like this.

"Is anything wrong officers?" Reynard called from the couch with that silky voice of his. They'd been standing by the glass door for too long.

"Actually yes there is," when Nick didn't make a move to answer, she took over and pulled her handcuffs from her belt.

A paw shot out and rested on the metal restraints. Nick's face had lost its anger but his eyes were still hard, his mouth a grim slash across his muzzle. He waited until she met his green eyes before he breathed, his voice betraying him. "Carrots, please." He breathed the words and Judy could guess it might come out a whimper had he attempted to speak any louder. How could she refuse, when he sounded so vulnerable.

She let him take the handcuffs as she nodded her head awkwardly in the direction of the door. "I'll just go get the car then. Be back in a minute."

Nick nodded his head minutely. Before turning to the other fox, "James Reynard, you are under arrest..."

Judy was already at the door, eager to get away from the musky air that stinks of fox. She never thought fox musk would be a thing she ever had to deal with and she'd been wrong. She wondered if that made Nick less likeable to her, but it had never been a problem. The only scent she'd ever noticed coming off him was one of cheap dollar-store cologne, not that she'd ever made an effort to really sniff him. Regardless at least Nick didn't smell, she didn't know if she could cope otherwise.

She hovered just outside the door long enough to hear the click-click of the cuffs and for Nick to finish reading the rights. Then she was bounding for the patrol car parked at the end of the street, hoping the task of placing one foot in front of the other would keep her from worrying about Nick. But it couldn't quite still her heart.

She remembered one of the many younger brothers, Lucas, that she would help Ma take care of growing up. One day when the kitten was around seventeen, he'd come home from school and locked himself in his room. While he was usually introverted, as introverted as you could be in a family of hundreds, he'd reached a new level of isolation over the next few days. When they'd finally coaxed him out of his room, his eyes had been red from crying and droopy from too little sleep. They'd finally gotten the story out of him, of how his first girlfriend (they'd been together throughout high school and it had been a big deal for him at the time) had dumped him, over a bowl of carrot stew. His voice had been a broken thing, symbolising his heart. Judy had never felt so sad on a sibling's behalf.

Nick's voice had sounded like that just now, arresting Reynard. It was as if someone had killed the Nick she knew, embalmed him and strung him up like a puppet with invisible strings. His voice was wooden, too tired to put on a smug air as if it came from someone else and a ventriloquist was working his muzzle. A sick sad puppet show. Judy wanted to hold him to her until their body heat brought him back to the living.

Okay, that might have been a bit weird, she noted. Wrong method, she thought. I don't know maybe it's worth a shot, she reasoned.

But they were on a case, and she couldn't think about him now. Not in front of the burglar. So she jumped in the car and started the engine. Later though. Later she'd sort this out with him. With that promise in mind, she drove up to No. 7's front yard to retrieve the two foxes. One was a criminal and the other her friend.

He came along quietly but regardless Judy decided to let him stew in interrogation. Meanwhile, she got herself a coffee. The machine in the Precinct wasn't anything to be proud of, it was cheap and tangy. But with enough cream, it was easier to hold down and process the caffeine inside. Although she still needed sweetener. She couldn't stand sugar, she was hyperactive enough as a bunny, but she had found that a dash of coconut oil provided a much more natural sweetener. And she'd heard it helped fight fat. Not that she had anything to worry about, of course. She hoped.

She wasn't surprised to see Nick leaning against the wall outside interrogation, waiting for her. The whole car ride he'd been quiet and tensed, like he was permanently in the parade stance of Zootopia's Police Academy, even while sitting. He didn't lean in his seat once. Her only condolence was that at least he was still using the pet name Carrots when he talked to her. But his facial muscles had locked down, fixed in something that wasn't a frown but was too stiff to be far off.

"Are you good, Nick?" she asked as she strode up to him. He looked dead tired.

He gave the faintest smirk, "Yeah Carrots, I'm good."

"You're sure?"

Instead of answering, Nick just shrugged. It was his typical Nicholas Wilde shrug, and it was the one thing she hated about him. Because she could hear the silent words behind that protest that one could only hear with the eyes. The barrier he built between himself and the rest of the world.

I'm Nick Wilde and I don't care. Look at how much I don't care.

He reached out his paw for the door handle, but Judy stopped him by touching his exposed forearm. The fur there was soft and scarlet; she could feel the steady heat of him. He looked down at the contact, eyes startling for a moment. Judy didn't know what to say, what could she say without him blowing her off.

In the end, she settled for the first thing at hand. "You don't have to go in, you can take the bench. If you want to."

The bench was an affectionate name for the other side of the two-way mirror. The special little dark room that resembles an old photo developing studio more than the high school bleachers, it allowed someone to watch unseen from the sidelines. Although in the police world being benched was usually a punishment for whoever was on the leading officer's hate list.

Nick, although he had been more of a pain in the ass on this case, wasn't on her hate list. But he must have understood, because he nodded. "Alright Carrots, I'll be right next door. Are you going to be okay with the big bad fox?"

"I've survived this long with you haven't I?" She gave him her toothiest smile; it was, after all, a victory to one up the fox in teasing. When he still looked worried she added, "Don't worry slick, I'm a sly bunny."

And then she dropped into the interrogation room before she could truly think about it. Because she did wish Nick was with her. James Reynard watched her hawkishly as she took a seat at the table, his eyes sharp and alert even while his posture was relaxed. She placed her coffee in front of her, as well as a few other pieces, and ignored the uncomfortable paralytic tingling that attacked her nerves under his gaze. An old instinct; Fight or flight.

"Hopps isn't it?" he asked almost immediately, pronouncing the vowels in that odd way of his. He was a city mammal, she reminded herself. You couldn't expect him to sound like a bumpkin in the sticks.

When she registered the words she looked up, they weren't any of the usual choice words criminals had for the officers interrogating them. She hardly believed the fox in front of her wasn't smart enough to remember her name. Or connect it to the events of six months ago. "You know very well it is, Mr. Reynard."

"Just curious."

Judy knew she was being baited, but reluctantly asked. "Of what?"

He gave her a small smile, way too happy to be in here. "Just curious for curiosity's sake, it's kind of a fox thing. Although many prefer labels like skulking around or being sneaky. Which one do you use?"

"I try not to make generalisations based on a person's species, Mr. Reynard." Judy said as candidly as possible.

"Likewise Ms. ZPD's first rabbit officer." Suddenly his ears shot up and a wry smirk spread across his face. "Confession time. I do recall an Officer Hopps, now that I think of it." His eyes seemed to dance like candles in the night and Judy's only consolation was that he was chained to the table, she could dance herself away from him if he attacked. "To do with the savage mammals' case, I think. She did a nice little press conference if I recall. Perhaps you know her? Grey bunny, long ears, purple eyes, interesting opinion on preds. Ring a bell?"

Judy swallowed a retort, her nose wriggling with the action. "What's your point, Mr. Reynard?"

"My point is, Officer," he leant forward across the cool metal table, "is that you don't actually seem to have any trouble making generalisations about species. What was it you said? That only predators can go savage because it is a biological thing. Aside from that particularly controversial view, I quite admire you, being the first of your kind. It's truly inspiring; fact, I'm a fan."

"We all make mistakes Mr. Reynard. But at least I haven't stolen anything." He was acting a lot more snarky then before, Judy noticed. Gone was the polite well-mannered host. She vaguely wondered if it was because of Nick's absence.

He seemed to jump forward at that and glared at the black window behind Judy as if he sensed the other fox's presence, but when he spoke is voice was cool and collected. "The only mistake I have made is being born a fox." His gaze narrowed to the bunny in front of him. "Only I'm going to receive jail time for my mistake Judy Hopps. Whereas you were showered with praise for yours and became the poster bunny for the ZPD. Well done rabbit."

Judy realised her mistake then. This whole interview he'd been in control, twisting the conversation to suit his needs. Classic rookie mistake, Hopps. She scolded herself silently before trying to rectify it.

"That's not why we are here Mr. Reynard." She said in an attempt to wrestle back control.

He actually had the nerve to roll his eyes at her, "Isn't it? I'm pretty sure the only thing you've got on me is that I'm a fox."

She pulled out a photo of the crime scene, namely the broken window of the computer shop and slid it in front of him. Nick had taken it before he bagged the tuft of fur, and it clearly showed the red hair snagged on the glass. "Your fur was found directly on the means of entry used by the robber."

He gave it a glance, no more. "That could be any fox's fur. You've got no proof it was me." Classic perp bluff, Nick had told Judy once. It was an opening for the interrogator to show their hand.

"It was traced back to you."

A raised eyebrow, "How? I'm positive my DNA isn't on file, despite the fact that I'm a fox."

Judy barely held back her grimace, he had a good point. Nick's verification by smell was unlikely to hold up in court. "Fur from your home is being cross-referenced as we speak."

"That's all you've got? Fur that may or may not be mine." He waved an arm as if to indicate the entire room. "If you haven't noticed rabbit, it's the middle of fricking summer out there. Every fox, wolf, bear and their mother is shedding fur and sweating their balls off. Especially the mothers.

"How do I know some random didn't just pick up an already fallen piece of my fur and place it there while they robbed the place?"

She pushed forward the second piece of evidence, a red brick in an evidence bag. "This was found at your home." She pushed another identical brick. "And this was found at the crime scene. It was used to break through the window."

For barely a second, the fox's eyes widened in surprise, and then it was gone. Recognition. But it was enough; Judy allowed herself a smirk of satisfaction. He was their guy. There was no way James Reynard could talk his way out of this one, and even if he did it was only a matter of time before they found enough evidence to convict. For now, he was trying to recompose his poker face. That silver tongue had turned to lead. Job well done Hopps, she told herself.

"I was framed." She was torn from her little victory toot-toot by his words.

"What?"

More resolutely he said, "I was framed bunny."

She decided not to mention that the term bunny wasn't appropriate once the rabbit became an adult. Instead, she barked a short laugh. This was more stupid than any age classification, "You were framed? I'm sorry but you're going to need to come up with something a little more original when you find yourself in court."

"Where's Wilde?" he crossed his arms and huffed.

"Excuse me?"

Another eye roll, that cheeky bastard, "Your partner Officer Wilde, where is he? Why isn't he here?"

Judy resisted the urge to glance behind her at the viewing room. Nick was likely in there, worrying about her. He was an idiot if he thought she didn't notice how he tensed whenever she was around other predators. It was subtle, a slight straightening of the neck, hands pulled from their pockets. It was also endearing and she knew he'd be out here in a second if she said she needed him.

Judy returned to the moment with a shrug. "He had somewhere else to be."

"I bet." Reynard snorted, shaking his head with a grin. "It can't be easy watching one of your kind being set up for a crime he didn't commit."

Judy wanted to groan and bash her head against the table. Instead, she said, "Firstly, I thought we agreed this had nothing to do with species. And secondly, no one's buying the whole 'I didn't do it' con."

"Listen, lady, I spent so fucking long just getting the lease to that shithole I live in. Now, why would I go and ruin that by robbing a third-rate shop around the corner. It doesn't make any sense. You don't shit where you eat."

"No offense Mr. Reynard but most innocent people aren't so happy to be here."

"Yeah well, I already know I've got no chance in hell. You won't believe anything I say, so why shouldn't I make the most of it and enjoy your lovely company?"

"You don't have a chance in hell because all the evidence points to you."

"Because I was framed. How do I know one of you cops didn't do it, just to tidy up the case in a nice red furred ribbon." Then he raised his hands in an 'oh by the way' sort of gesture. "Also, if I robbed a store, where's the effing cash?"

"We were hoping you could tell us that Mr. Reynard. Heck, since you're such a fan, I'll be sure to sign one of the stolen items. You can have it framed and hang it up in your prison cell." Judy said as joyfully as possible.

He seemed to realise nothing was going to break the rabbit in front of him because he huffed and crossed his arms. Judy wasn't a quitter.

After a moment, he said, "I want to call my lawyer."

"What's wrong, am I not fun anymore." Judy bared a smile for more predatory than any James Reynard could muster. "But sure, we'll get you a lawyer."

Ten minutes later Judy opened the door into the darkened room. Nick was still there, arms crossed and tail flicking methodically, as he leant against the wall. His eyes were fixed on the fox beyond the glass, alone in the sleek metal of the interrogation room, like he could bore a hole through the guys skull and read his mind.

"We've got this guy in the bag." Judy said as she passed him a coffee, black and more sugar than water in it. She followed his eyes to the other fox, who was sitting calmly, smiling at the two-way glass as if he knew they were there.

Nick's voice was thick as he lowered the coffee cup after a long sip. He didn't even grimace at the crap taste that he'd moan about any other time. "We sure do."

Judy's eyes flicked up to watch him closely. He was still glum and wooden, but he was hiding something else as well. "Nick, are you all right?"

"'M fine."

"Don't let this guy get to you. He's just being a sore loser." Judy assured him. "He wouldn't be the first."

Nick hummed, "Oh, there's no doubt he's an asshole." Judy wouldn't have used that sort of language, she was raised differently. But she nodded anyway and raised her own coffee to her lips. "But he's also innocent."

Judy Hopps choked on her coffee. Literally, she gagged and scalding hot liquid flew out her nose. It hurt like a motherfu real bastard. And it was embarrassing as heck, she expected Nick to burst out laughing. That this would all be a prank. And then she'd thump him upside the skull. But he didn't. So she didn't. "You're kidding me right?" she asked when she was finally stable again.

"Nope." He was still gazing sombrely through the window, although he'd spared a raised eyebrow as she almost drowned herself. She didn't understand what he was getting at. They had a solid case.

"What are you saying, Nick?"

He turned to look at her, his nose wrinkling in distaste. There was a deadness to his usually vibrant green eyes and they barely managed to flicker alertness. He swallowed a moment before wetting his lips, his paw coming up to scratch the thick fur at his scruff. "I'm saying he didn't do it Carrots." He said.