Few people realised how cold night was in the dessert, Nick realised. Before now he had been one of them. Once the sun went down, so did the mercury levels. All of the sweat that had accumulated throughout the day on Nicholas P. Wilde's vulpine body all but froze, and he felt like he'd gone skinny dipping in Mr Big's ice box for kicks.
But night time was beautiful, he begrudgingly admitted in an eerily wonderland sort of way. Admittedly he was slightly biased due to that whole nocturnal thing. The sky was a deep cobalt blue even if the stars weren't visible, and the moon hung low and large, it's glow painting the earth below it in magical silver. Despite himself he understood why those idiotic wolves liked to call to it. Of course Nicholas Wilde would never admit to it, he had a reputation to protect after all.
Stop going twilight on me and let's get this done Wilde, he scolded himself. He was here to do a job, not make googly eyes at the satellite in the sky. And when Nick Wilde did a job, he didn't waste time procrastinating.
He dashed across the chilling bitumen, his paws making no sound as they padded across its surface. His fox instincts and biology were well versed in stealth. There was a slight rustling as the dark hoodie brushed against his fur. But the coast was clear, no one would hear it. He paused in the shadow of one of the impossibly tall palm trees eyeing the highway behind it.
There was a popular saying that Zootopia never sleeps. Maybe that was true in Zootopia Central but not in Sahara Square, here even the highway traffic had slowed down to a trickle in the wee hours of the night. And they sure as hell wouldn't notice a fox in this particular car park. Perfect time and place for a robbery.
He made his way deftly to the shop window, the large white letters above the building gleamed like bone. His paws were in the large double pocket at the stomach of his jumper, testing the weight of the brick within. He was wearing gloves of course, he wasn't fucking amateur when it came to this, but he was still unnerved. Breaking and entering wasn't his style, and a brick was a hell of a lot less elegant than talking your way in. Or picking the lock. But he was resolute in his conviction; he had to break in this way.
Internally he asked, 'Why? Why does it need to be done like this?'
'Because that's the way it is done, you moron.' Another voice answered, colder than his own. He was going crazy, he knew. He should run now, before it was too late; he obviously wasn't in the right mind set to pull a job.
But his arm pulled out the brick against his wishes, and he took a step back, cocking his arm like he was a baseball pitcher. A heart beat later the brick was crashing through the window in a shower of sparkling glass. Nick vaguely likened it to a chandelier that had all its strings cut at exactly the same time, even as his arm came up instinctively to shield vulnerable eyes.
Gingerly he moved to the jagged frame, reaching a leg over and climbing inside, wary of the glass left behind. The last thing he needed was DNA falling behind. It was only as he fully stepped inside the shop that he felt the snagging sensation on his tail. He winced, just his fucking luck.
He pulled his tail too him and checked it, he couldn't feel a cut. But that didn't mean he hadn't left blood behind without feeling it. He looked at the glass shard sticking out of the frame like a translucent Himalayan mountain, but there was no blood drops in sight. However there was a tuft of hair, snagged on the point like a cloud hugging the mountain's snowy cap. He froze, the scene coming back to him. He recognised this, he was dreaming again. Nightmaring again.
As if on cue, he could hear sirens in the distance. He could wake up, should wake up to escape this torment. Reynard wasn't him, he reminded himself, Nick shouldn't have to live his demons. He should just wake up and go back to sleep once his heart settled. That's what he'd done last night, woken up at this point. But with dread he knew it wouldn't work. He'd been exhausted, and needed what little rest even a nightmare provided. If he woke up now, he'd only fall into the next nightmare, one far worse than this pathetic little terror. He couldn't live through that one. So he'd survive this one.
The tranquil expanse of midnight and silver was disrupted by flashes of red and blue in the distance. The police. He vaguely wondered which officers would manifest themselves in his sub-conscious even as he set to work. Jumping out the window and running down the street.
But his feet seemed to warp into something malleable, becoming heavy and clumsy until he tripped over in that way that only happens in dreams. He pushed himself up and stumbled forward a couple more steps, his limbs felt like he was crawling through jello, before he again collapsed.
The padding of paws alerted him to the officer's presence behind him and he looked up. His heart plummeted by what he saw, it was Judy. Of course it was fucking Judy, and her face was a mix of hurt and indignation.
'She has the right to feel betrayed', a voice told him glumly.
Finally she pulled her cuffs out from the back of her utility belt, only they morphed before his eyes into a different shape. Leather and buckles. The voices of young scout cubs chorused from out of nowhere, chiming smugly;
"Did you really think we would trust a fox without a muzzle?"
In a way this was almost worse than the other dream. The other nightmare. Nick choked back a sob as the bunny crept forward, the moonlight behind her creating a halo of purity. She was beautiful, but in the end she would always be his doom. Or he'd be hers. It had always been there, that undeniable truth of fate. Nick would curse if he wasn't so emotionally awed by the tragedy taking place.
The rabbit was above him now reaching forward to slip the muzzle over his mouth. As she cinched the last buckle she opened her mouth to speak.
"Wilde!"
Nick was awoken from his dream abruptly, crashing to the floor as he fell out of his chair. He looked up to find a stern looking buffalo glaring down at him. He'd fallen asleep in the office, he realised. The yellow hues of sunrise were visible out of the office windows. At least he wouldn't have to go to sleep again, he thought cheerfully then paused. Since when was he the glass half-full guy, that was Carrots' gig, not his.
The Chief was still gazing steadily down at him. "Is there a reason you thought Precinct One would be more comfortable than your own bed, officer Wilde?"
Nick was way too befuddled for this. Trick question, did he have a bed? No, not during summer. During summer, he had a deck chair under a bridge to sleep on. During winter, he had a mattress in Finnick's van, but the little fennec fox had been adamant that one fox malting and stinking up the place was enough in the hotter months. So in a way, the Precinct was a comfier option. But he doubted the Chief would accept that answer. "Can I get a coffee before we start, Chief?"
"No. Have you got your report on the Sahara Square case?"
Nick looked at a manila folder on his desk, amid all the clutter. It was the last thing he remembered finishing before he zonked out. That and rigging the air horn under Delgado's seat. He gave Bogo a triumphant smile before holding it up in the air. "All done Chief!"
"It's late." was the gruff reply as a large hoof snatched the report from his paw. Did he expect a pat on the back? No, not really. But a 'well done' shouldn't have been too difficult.
Maybe it was. Or would be, once the buffalo read the report. He wouldn't be happy that Nick had contradicted his partner; the Precinct's prize bunny officer. Judy wouldn't either. But he'd done it for her, even if she never understood that. He couldn't just let an injustice go by, that's what it meant to be a good cop. And Judy was blind to the injustice, maybe rightfully so given her species. So he'd said so in his report. It was either that or spring the fox from the holding cells. But Judy Hopps would never forgive him for that.
But Judy trusted him to be a good cop, believed in him like only one other person ever had in his whole life. And he wouldn't betray it. For as long as he was able because really he already knew it wouldn't last, but for her he'd try. So he'd had to do something.
He vaguely hoped the Chief would put off reading it, so he wouldn't face the consequences of his typed words. Yeah, maybe he'd have the day to relax before he was thrown into the fryer.
There was a reason Nick was never an optimist. Hope always seemed to turn around and bite him in the ass. Possibly just to spite him. He'd been called into the chief's office twenty minutes later. 8.20am the clock on the wall said, the minute hand seemed to point at Nick as though laughing at him and calling its buddies to do the same. And then Judy had shown up five minutes later, looking completely lost as to why they were here. Nick bit back a wince of foreknowledge.
A small part of him prayed he'd be left out of it. That his report wouldn't come up and would instead be addressed anonymously. Again Hope bit him in the ass when the Chief directly quoted a passage from his report.
"This is an issue we need to discuss." The big buffalo concluded, and Nick found his tail to be incredibly interesting. It was long and bushy, the strands of fur soft. He didn't think he'd ever been so fascinated by it. It was the strangest gift of evolution, that they'd developed another limb that had neither fingers nor thumbs. It was just there. Imagine not having a tail; that would suck balls. Even Carrots had a small little cotton ball of a thing. Not that he'd noticed all that often. Or looked...
Much.
At the thought of her, he spared a look, hoping she wasn't expecting it. She apparently was. She was staring at him with that same mix of indignation and hurt from his nightmare and he was glad his eyes hadn't paused in the general area of the fore mentioned tail. Way to make a guy feel relaxed. He decided he was never going to look at her below the neck again. Suddenly he felt the urge to say something.
"Listen, I should explain..." he started. His hands outstretched as though he was taming a rampaging beast. The rabbit in front of him wasn't the generally accepted definition of such, but neither was a sheep considered an average criminal mastermind.
"Your report was pretty clear, Wilde." Bogo cut him off, that ass. "You do believe James Reynard is innocent don't you?"
That was the question wasn't it. Even Carrots was looking at him expectantly, waiting for his reply. He hesitated, but not because he was unsure. He could lie. Say it was some practical joke. Do something to protect this fragile partnership. He sighed, "Yes."
"Do you agree with him, Hopps?"
Her voice was startlingly when she answered and he felt like he'd been iced by an arctic shrew. "No sir."
Bogo apparently paused for effect. That was disconcerting, Clawhauser was meant to be the only diva in the Precinct. But the buffalo's expression was still incomprehensibly stern, and Nick felt like he was in a court room rather than his boss's office. "And why is that?"
"The evidence says otherwise Sir."
"I'm inclined to agree with you, Officer."
Nick couldn't believe this, had his report meant nothing to them. "Sir?"
"I don't take kindly to my officers spending the night asleep at their desks. That reflects a serious issue, especially if it comes up in court. I'm sorry Wilde, but you've left me no choice. I'm putting you on two days paid leave."
What the fuck? Was it National Nick Wilde Hate day or something? He was trying to be a good cop. Why was no one seeing that? Then Bogo turned abruptly to Judy, his face furrowing. "Hopps, I'll assign you another partner temporarily at rollcall, now you are dismissed. I want to talk to Wilde privately."
Judy nodded. But not before she turned a scathing look on Nick, and he remembered how the joke about being terrified of her started. It wasn't a joke. She would kick his ass unless he talked his way out of it. The roles of predator and prey had nothing to do with it.
Then she was gone. Nick no longer felt like an ant some kid had taken a spyglass too. He let out a sigh of relief once the door was closed.
He turned to the Chief, his gaze defiant and chin held high. He was not wrong. Reynard was innocent. The boss of the buffalo's horns rose slightly as the ZPD Chief looked incredulously at Nick's stubborn gaze.
"Alright cut that out Wilde." Bogo finally said.
"After you just..." Nick couldn't keep his voice from rising but stopped abruptly when the Chief raised a hoof. No matter how much of a pain in the ass the chief was, he was still the one in charge.
"Yes, officially I have placed you on 48 hours leave until we convict the suspect. Unofficially you can do whatever you like with that time." The Chief waved his hoof in the air, like a conductor waving a baton. "For example if you happened to find confirming evidence that James Reynard didn't commit the crime during this time, well we won't arrest him will we."
Nick stared up at his boss with confusion, his head felt like he'd gone toe-to-toe with McHorn. "Why would you? After everything you just said?"
"I told you that I wouldn't question your motivation if you told me you could do what's need to be done. You did. And despite what happened all those years ago, I still try to believe my police officers. Is there anything else?"
Understanding passed through him. Bogo was giving him a chance, because Nick was worried about the case, not because he agreed with him. The fox shook his head numbly as he stood up. "No sir."
"Dismissed then." The cape buffalo went back to reading paperwork, his posture as though nothing at all had happened.
Nick slipped out the room, glad that Carrots wasn't in immediate sight. He needed to get his head together, plan his attack. 48 hours wasn't a lot of time to conduct an investigation, realistically. But all he really needed to do was prove Reynard was innocent.
He allowed himself a smirk, forty-eight hours had become a reoccurring theme in his life. It was the same amount of time Carrots had been given to complete her case over six months ago, the one he'd helped her with. It would've been nice to have her help him on this case, but he knew that wasn't going to happen. Not after this morning.
He was oddly surprised not to find the furious bunny waiting to tear him a new one. She wasn't one to procrastinate, even with arguments. But he wouldn't look the gift horse in the mouth, he was perfectly happy delaying their confrontation.
Hopefully she wouldn't find him until this was all over. He'd have his proof then. At which point she'd see the truth and apologise profusely. He'd play the charming gentleman he was and accept it, only saying 'I told you so' twice at the most. He let out a happy sigh, that sounded good.
Again Hope is a bitch. She found him in the locker room, with his shirt unbuttoned and sliding off his shoulders. He froze, kind of unnerved to be topless in front of an animal that by all rights was his prey and feeling vulnerable. He thanked evolution that his fur was a colour that covered his deep blush beneath it. Thank god he still had pants on.
Whatever Carrots had been about to say dies as she spots his naked chest. In a clumsy spastic manoeuvre, likened to an epileptic at a night club where the strobe lights flash in time to the horrible sounds of wub wub, she quickly covered her eyes with two splayed paws. Somehow she hadn't realised he'd be changing when she ambushed him in the change rooms. Who'd a thunk it? He barely avoided saying it out loud. But that didn't mean he wouldn't take the opportunity to get the first word in.
"You know Carrots, if you'd wanted to sneak a peak, you could have just asked?" Because there was no way he was going to bring up the matter at hand.
She swallowed and managed to peek up over her fingers. Glaring at him she chided, "This isn't funny Wilde."
He had to chuckle at that. "You have to admit it's sort of funny."
"I'm serious."
"So am I? What are the chances I'd be half-naked in the locker room?" He knew he was only making it worse for himself by goading her, but there was a tiny winy chance he might side step this fight completely. One in a million. But it was still a chance.
He wondered why he never did well in the casino down town.
"Nick." She gritted out in warning, "Why the heck did you do it?"
Nick closed his eyes, taking a deep breath. He had known this was coming after all. "I told you, he's innocent."
"That's bullsh- baloney. The evidence puts him right there." Her voice had risen, and Nick noticed her foot start to tap.
"What evidence?" Nick laughed again, this one a bit more sarcastic. "A brick and some fur."
"Yes exactly. That's DNA Nick, not just a bit of red carpet in there. Why can't you see that?"
"Oh I see it bunny." He tried to keep his emotions in check. He'd once been really good at it, but not with her it seemed. She was his exception. "But I also see what is not there. For example, where's the loot?"
Carrots' purple eyes rolled dramatically. "He's probably already sold it."
He busied himself with wrapping a Hawaiian shirt, purple this time. It gave him enough time to come up with his argument and speak the words as matter-of-factly as possible. "Then where's the money? I know for sure it's not in his bank account. I already fucking checked."
Bad choice of words, he realised. As he resorted to swearing she visibly enraged, her chest puffing out and her chin rose defiantly. "I can't believe he got to you. Just because he's another fox doesn't mean you-"
Nick stopped her with a sharp chopping motion of his arm, his voice barely coming out calmer than a snarl. How could she say that? He wasn't doing this just because they arrested a fox. "Let me stop you right there Cottontail. Don't say something you're going to regret."
She didn't bat an eyelid, god bless her. "Then don't stab me in the back with your report."
"I wrote the truth." He deflated visibly, he had betrayed her. But she wouldn't listen when he tried to explain, so he'd felt that he had no choice. He was sorry. He was also right, and that knowledge wouldn't let him back down. "I thought that's what a cop is fucking supposed to do."
"Don't pull that shit on me Nick."
"I'm sorry, my mistake. Of course I wouldn't know what I'm talking about, I'm just another fox. Waiting to rob someone fucking blind." If Nick had been a serpent he knew that he would have spat venom with those words. He had never truly heard her swear before, and it was somehow different coming from her than anyone else. But he refused to apologise for his words, he'd been right. She didn't trust him to know what he was doing, he was just a sidekick to her. Someone to chase her heels.
Before she could respond Nick left, refusing to see the effect his words had on her. He left because it had already escalated past the safety point, that imaginary line that you crossed at your own peril. Any further and he would do something he'd regret. Like ruining everything.
His ratty old gym bag hung from his shoulder as he pulled a tie (green and yellow) over his head and made his way for reception, stopping only at his desk to pick up a few notes. He walked out the atrium into the hot weather outside, vaguely hearing some comment about owing an elephant 20 dollars from Clawhauser as he walked past. He didn't say goodbye. He was in too shitty a mood now. His whole body rejected the thought of venturing out in the sunlight, he'd done it one too many times this week, he thought.
But there was work to do. A plan of attack was already forming in his mind, one worthy of a good cop. So he slipped on his sunglasses and began walking towards the subway. He had a university to visit.
