Judy lost the argument as they approached the cemetery. "You really don't like the flowers?"

Nick shrugged. "Finn never was a flowers kind of guy."

"Fine!"

She threw the bouquet over the cemetery fence. "That's littering, you know," said Nick disapprovingly. "I could write you a two hundred dollar citation."

"Go ahead," said Judy coolly. "I'll tell the judge it was your fault."

"My fault! How is it my fault?"

"Oh, I'll think of something." Judy pointed to herself. "Sly bunny." She pointed to Nick. "Dumb fox."

They were still snarking at each other when they walked into Finnick's room. He took one look and snarled, "Don't you two got no respect for a sick fox?"

"Oh, please." Nick pulled up a chair and sat next to the bed, propping his feet up on the covers. Finnick swiped at them and Nick put them on the floor, grinning. "You're milking it. The doctor said you barely got a crease on your head."

"Don't listen to him, Finnick," said Judy indignantly. "You're a real hero. The mayor wants to give you a medal for saving my life."

The little fox looked embarrassed. "I didn't do nothing. Just tripped, that's all. Had the bad luck to fall in front of a bullet."

The bunny smiled gently. "I know, Finnick. It was just an accident." Their eyes locked and for one brief moment, all the things they would never speak of shone in their gaze, then Judy said briskly, "You don't have to get a medal if you don't want one, but there is somebody who's very eager to meet you."