I do not own Zootopia, that belongs to Disney. This a fan work made solely for the sake of amusement.

The Lionhearts

Chapter Nine: Jack Sprat

By: Gabriel LaVedier

Despite being highly educated and well aware of her responsibilities and duties, and facts and figures about exercise, Dr. Madge Garanuug-Honeybadger loved to be indolent. The heavyset ratel was a squat woman, with an exceptionally hippy figure, the kind called shortstack, shortcake, and poundcake behind her back. It didn't affect her. It was a point of pride for her. Sometimes it even made her happy to hear it, whispered in her ear.

Her bed was needlessly large, excessively soft, and terribly expensive, as compared to anything she had owned before. Meager rations had become a feast in so many ways after marriage. Not that she minded the small thing that had been hers before. It was an intimate thing, just enough for those using it. But the new one had more surface area for greater experimental fun, and a tougher construction. Love from a heavy ratel, even if not the biggest of mammals, could wreak havoc on a lesser bed.

"Honey!" The voice that called to her was high, light, gentle but clearly masculine in a species-specific context. "Honey! It's time to get up!"

"You make me, sweetie, you come in here and make me!" Madge called back, pulling the sea foam sheets and floral comforter up over her head and burrowing down into an unresponsive lump in the middle of the bed. She pulled herself up into as much of a ball as her bulk would allow. After a moment her nose twitched, a wonderful scent reaching her. It made her slowly uncurl and peek her head out of the top of the sheets.

There was Ian, her loving husband, smiling and holding up a tray laded down with honey-smeared pancakes studded with baobab fruit pieces, fried kippers, a mix of oatmeal and wheat meal with mixed fruit, fried discs of polenta, and glasses of soy milk, acacia plus two mugs of coffee. The slightly younger gerenuk was an especially slender example of his species, his neck long and graceful, his face slender and features delicate. His ears stuck out to the side, wiggling lightly in delight, the wing-like black markings sharp and crisp. His lyre-shaped horns were professionally sanded, polished and showed not the slightest hint of cracking or denting. His slender, gracile body was very lightly colored, his chest and belly a light cream, with the rest of him a slight honey-fawn. He had nothing on him, the tray covering anything interesting. "There's my honey..."

"You don't play fair," Madge said with mock annoyance. She sniffed heavily over the tray and sighed. "But... what about you? I'm not ashamed to say I'll destroy this tray and have you for brunch. I can't have my cute string bean starve just because I love my meals."

"I can get by on a little bit. It's a heavy meal. For my heavy ratel," Ian said, leaning in to put a little kiss on Madge's forehead, setting the tray down on the bed.

"More-to-love Madge has got plenty more than just a little bit to help you get by, my honeycomb," Madge cooed, kissing Ian's snout and offering a place by her side.

Ian took his place in bed, snuggling in against his wife, highlighting the odd mismatch between the two. She wasn't very big, but she was heavy, muscular but padded well and robust, while he was long, tall and skinny as a rail. He stroked her thigh while she dug into her breakfast, rather daintily. She ate with grace and care, even when taking huge bites of each food. Her mouth could open unusually wide compared to what might have been expected and allowed her to take in plenty of food, her sparkling white fangs put to use with a slight snarl and slurp. Her actions were dainty, but her body made the sounds it did. "Here comes the bride, big, fat and wide..."

Madge looked over, swallowing her food and grinning. "Here comes the groom, skinny as a broom... and so pretty. I'm amazed a hyena didn't hunt you down and haul you down the aisle."

"I stayed in the botany lab, I was a potted plant in there, and I was happy. And then I met you... you made me even happier. As soon as I saw you, I realized I wasn't happy enough. I couldn't be happy without you ever again..." Ian whispered, gently nuzzling at Madge's small ear, kissing and nibbling around the lobe.

"Don't give me that. You have money, a fancy name, a big house, and plenty of smarts. That's wonderful," Madge said, cutting a big wedge from the pancakes and moving it over to Ian's mouth. "Open wide. I told you you need to eat."

Ian opened his mouth and wrapped his tongue around the fork behind where the pancake was speared. A deft pull slid the honey-smeared pieces into his mouth and he chewed them slowly. "Only if you can spare it," he said with a slightly full mouth.

"Food is fuel, and you need something in your tank until we mix up a little someone to carry a nice, big name and nice, big bank account," Madge giggled, holding up the fried fish and popping her brows.

Ian didn't even hesitate, he just took a bite of the fish, chewing it noisily and swallowing without a flinch. "I need to go long enough to satisfy a very, very good and very sweet ratel."

"Keep that up, I'll pack you into a mattress divot," Madge huffed, her voice rough and deep, a smile on her lips. She packed in a big portion of the porridge and some polenta, chewing it slowly.

"You couldn't do it last night and you can't do it today," Ian boldly proclaimed, drinking the acacia juice and nipping some of the polenta disk on Madge's fork.

"Don't you challenge a ratel, they'll do it until they do it or die trying," Madge warned, tapping Ian on the end of his snout. "And I need to be alive to carry the little half. I need you, too, but after the little one's growing..."

"You need a buck to help care for the little long-neck," Ian said, using his own utensils to eat some of everything, also sipping from the coffee. "I think the long neck carries. Our genes are stronger than most traditionally rich mammals. No inbreeding."

"That'll be nice. A stretched-out ratel with nice, big teeth. Snappy and skittish. Probably pretty. Hopefully I don't contribute too much..." Madge sighed, slowing in her eating and looking fairly crestfallen.

"Hey, hey..." Ian lifted up her head and kissed her honey-smeared lips, tongue slipping out to flick up the little traces of sticky sweetness. "No, you're beautiful. Stunning. Our children will be amazing, no matter what percentage of which species they are."

A short space of silence followed, Madge looking down at her tray and then up at her husband. She slid her muzzle along his cheek, trailing kisses as she went. "Sometimes... I forget that. I never heard it much... I love you, Ian."

"I love you, Madge," Ian whispered, kissing her again and settling down once more. "When you finish I'll get these cleaned up and let you get back to napping. You had a week that needs some rest."

"Why'd they have to make me the department chair?" Madge grumped. "I'm a researcher, I'm actively publishing! My work on Nighthowlers gave the University big notice."

"Because you're also a lecturer and you made the University look good. They had to give you something big or else they might lose you to the private sector," Ian said, his muzzle snuggled in against Madge's neck.

"I don't need the private sector, I'm married to a really rich, handsome buck who publishes very important papers in all the peer reviewed journals. We're the biggest university power couple since Doctor Euclid married Doctor Luna," Madge huffed. "It's just more stress."

"It's prestige," Ian corrected. "In my family we have a saying. Prestige is more than free, it prints money. A good reputation is worth its weight in gold. If nothing else, our children will be enormously proud of us. Especially of you."

"A proud ratel? You mean like a long-necked giraffe?" Madge laughed, softly patting Ian's thigh. "Pride isn't our problem. Humiliaty is. We're proud to be proud... guess it's better that I'm proud to be someone important."

Ian kissed his wife tenderly on the cheek and curled up slightly beside her, his skinny figure contrasting with her generous proportions. "You finish off breakfast and just don't think about anything else. Want a massage? Your pawpads probably need a rub. The little dimples on your... well, those too. That weasel spine of yours that folks forget you have just loves my hooves all up and down it."

"Not so long and springy but it's the same concept," Madge sighed, between bites of her delicious breakfast. "Sure. Once we're done dig those digits into my spine. I want all-day pampering."

"And what's in it for me?" Ian asked, kissing over Madge's neck to feel her swallow.

"All night baby-making," Madge huskily said, casually continuing to consume.

Ian watched the plates clear with intense interest.

o o o

University functions were notoriously dull, even for professional academics. It was usually the same sort of thing, some department or another in a modestly sized room with catered food and drinks, some manner of conversation happening before some dull speeches about the progress of this or that and university happenings and potential honors.

One particular function brought together all the sciences, being held in one of the larger halls to accommodate a gathering of that size. Being a top research university and science-focused powerhouse, ZU was well stocked with top tier scientists, who all ended up gravitating together into their own specialty cliques in most cases. There were still outliers, such as the loose confederation of Outsider and Inter faculty who populated their own nebulous area near the desserts and cold snacks.

"I'll never be able to abide by this kind of foolishness," Madge grumbled, intermittently eating crackers topped with seafood and sipping from a flute of champagne sized for a mammal just slightly larger than her. She was nicely attired in a dark purple dress that was almost too tight on her ample and curvacious form, sequins sewn in along the sides. A long slit cut up along her right side, exposing some of her thick thigh. It was strapless, secure along her chest and running under her arms. She balanced on a pair of open strappy heels with a thick platform on them to put her slightly closer to Ian's height. "I can read the proceedings in the journals, I always read the new progress reports and lectures are online for a reason."

"But attending these kinds of functions is very pleasant. Though... perhaps because I grew up with formal gatherings," Ian said, nibbling on small cress sandwiches and sipping his own narrow flute. He was dressed in a perfectly tailored black suit that fit every part of him like a glove. The material looked suitably pricey, his black tie was shimmery in a way only real silk could be, and the cufflinks at his wrists were gold topped with real diamonds. "Besides, if the University can afford to fĂȘte us without picking our pockets and keeping our projects fully funded, what's the harm? We can also more calmly socialize with our colleagues that share certain proclivities, not using our limited private time. Oh! Not that we consider it a hassle but..."

"Ratels are solitary and grumpy," Madge noted. "We just happen to like our family groups, which is an improvement on what archeology tells us about how it was before. You'd think more would be in research, cheerfully sequestered in our concealing and sheltering labs."

"They don't ask my department to these kinds of functions. If I wasn't married to Luna I'd barely ever need to be out. But that is the ideal situation for my purposes," Dr. Euclid said. The modestly petite, hornless ram was smartly dressed in his usual white shirt, blue suit coat, red tie and high-hemmed puffed pants. He occasionally reached up to reflexively adjust his black-rimmed round-framed glasses.

"I don't know why they invite me; astrophysics is physics and physics is mathematics for engineers. I should be at the events for that," Dr. Luna softly said. The slightly short giraffe was in an old-fashioned dress, slightly too dressy for the situation. It was medium-dark blue, with a slightly starched collar at the base of her neck, with rings of lace trim at different places down the dress.

"Because your exoplanet work looks good on announcements and publishing what you do with your observatory time brings up the university's prestige, which reflect well in their coffers," Dr. Euclid dryly noted, though he did reach out to give his wife a side-hug.

"Hello there! I don't mean to interrupt..." A gemsbok cow suddenly came up to the four, dressed in a long, flowing black dress, a string of pearls hanging at her neck. "But are you Dr. Garanuug? I loved your paper on comparative insect repellant properties of Night Howler subspecies."

"It seemed like an important thing to do after the incident. But, it's Garanuug-Honeybadger," Ian said with a mild tone.

"You must be from elsewhere to be unaware of that. Maybe you're new. If Luna doesn't tell me I would be unaware of the day, time or meal," Euclid said with a small smile.

"But the paper..." the gemsbok began.

"I publish under my bachelor name for continuity," Ian explained. "I started under that name and it makes sense to keep doing it. But I'm very proudly married to my sweet Madge." He dipped his graceful neck down and softly kissed Madge on the lips, after lifting her chin a touch.

"I'm sorry Dr. Garanuug... Honeybadger. I'm Dr. Gemmison, I'm a visiting lecturer they invited to talk about new discoveries at the center of the Coyotl plateau and the Boto region. My research is undergoing review and my samples are being examined. I found some interesting insect repellent chemicals and your papers made me think of what chemical compositions I should test for."

"Oh right..." Madge said, tapping one chubby cheek. "I heard about that at the meeting... I don't know, I tend to zone out. Dr. Womburt is dull as it's possible to be. I review the handouts and get the information e-mailed to me. This is right up your alley, dear. Maybe you can do some work with it."

"I don't want to be so narrowly defined, but I seem to be the go-to expert for natural insecticide in plants. I need to make sure the research is used carefully. I'll have a look at the material when I'm back in my lab. My wife has seen fit to have me teach classes," Ian said with a little grin.

"I only decided what courses would be suited to you. Blame the administration for requiring you to have courses with you as the instructor of record. Well, it's the course for tenure and we all want that," Madge chuckled. "Once we're all locked in it's time to leap into the lab and never come out except for birthdays, anniversaries, date nights and childbirth."

"Kind of open, aren't you?" Dr. Gemmison said with a light rub of the back of her head. "Zootopia University is very diverse. I know the city is but... well... such open Outsider relationships are very rare."

"Inters too," Dr. Euclid added, again hugging himself to his much taller wife.

"Believe me, it's a terrible place," Madge said, drawing stares from her colleagues. "Oh, it's a ratel thing. I can be honest about things. You know all the sniping and whispering that goes on. I'm mostly certain at least one member of the classics department is a purist..."

"Professor Horncraft," Dr. Euclid plainly said.

"We figured everyone knew that," Dr. Luna added. "That's why he only gets invited to department things it's impossible to exclude him from and why he's never been offered a chair position or headship. They can't fire him because they'd have to list the cause, and having a purist professor looks bad. I think they're just waiting for him to get drunk on the job, sleep with a student or go insane."

"That sexless, pseudo-elite skeleton hasn't got the libido for it, and he drinks more tea than anyone I've ever seen. But I can believe he'd go crazy. That family of his could be a case study for inherited mental illness. You should crack his skull open and have a look inside," Ian said to Madge.

"His dried-up, cobweb-infested melon might make for a good project," Madge agreed, stroking her chin thoughtfully. "But never mind scientific business... did you have a special leaning that you would want to express, Dr. Gemmison?"

"I mean... you see, I very much enjoy the company of those with horns and hooves, but they don't need to be gemsbok," Dr. Gemmison said, noticing that, though he had been polled, Dr. Luna wrapped Dr. Euclid up in a protective hug and pulled him a little further from the cow. "Not a sheep. Maybe a goat. I haven't been very open about being Inter, but it's good to know visiting here won't be... too awkward."

"It'll still be awkward. There's a cow that tried to get me fired when I started dating Ian. MR took the peptides out of her chain," Madge said with a deep chuckle. "But, sure, keep around the folks in our little cloud here and it's much more comfortable."

"Are you being seconded to the University? You'll learn the cliques as you work your way through. But as Madge said, this loose conglomeration is the group for Outsiders and Inters in the Science department. The larger group has an official presence, though mainly that's for the students. We have less formal organized gatherings," Ian explained.

"Guest lecturing. I haven't been offered anything. I'm an independent researcher, working on grants and such. It's a lot of trouble working up all the razzle-dazzle to get the money. Companies love practical stuff, but you want science for the sake of science? Takes a lot of con-job work to get them to pay for pure learning," Dr. Gemmison explained.

"The joy of science," Ian chuckled. "Having an independent source of money can be a way to offset some of the more annoying bits. One of the advantages of having an annoying name that clings like a leech."

"He means his family name," Madge said by way of clarification. "It's old, it's distinguished and now it's welded onto mine. The family like to claim they're proud. Mom and dad enjoy having a city heroine who is personal friends with the Lionhearts at their dull parties. I invite them even if it feels like I'm punishing dear friends."

"They're not so bad," Ian said, with some lack of conviction. "It's just hard navigating the realities of such things. But, this is not one of those parties. These are our frie- well, some friends, but colleagues at the least. They may get annoying, and need talking-to from MR, but they are at least those we know."

"Better the pest you know than the one you can't see," Madge said with a smile, munching on her snacks.

o o o

"They didn't ask for a bottle of wine, they didn't ask for anything," Madge said as she and Ian strolled down Sherwood Avenue in Savannah Central. Both were nicely attired, Ian in a colorful tuxedo, a powder blue swallowtail coat and pants, with dark red cummerbund and a navy blue bow tie with a small diamond in the center, Madge in an aqua colored version of her slit dress, shining with sequins.

"It's common to do it," Ian said. "I know I've been hesitant to do this while visiting before but it goes against my nature to just come along to a house without bringing one of the traditional, pretentious gifts. Besides, my parents gave me this when I told them we were going to see the Lionhearts. They try to be nice, so let's take advantage of it."

"Do they even have the time to drink? They have a kid..." Madge mused, turning toward building 1066, Pleasant Pasture Apartments, standing before the big buffalo bull that regarded the two. "Evening, Orson. Going up to see the Lionhearts."

The burly buffalo doorman offered a bright smile, opening the door and tipping his hat to the pair. "Evening, Drs. Garanuug-Honeybadger. They've been expecting you."

"Thank you, you're a good mammal," Ian said, slipping the beefy bull a tip. "Always, always tip the doormammal. They have a thankless task, they work long hours, they protect your building, and they have very well earned it. As for the wine, well... Mrs. Lionheart shouldn't indulge overmuch, in her condition, but she can have a little. And this bottle... well, Mr. Lionheart can hardly be in danger of having too much even if he downs it all."

They walked through the lobby and to the elevators, crossing the floral-inspired carpet and hitting the button, lucky enough to catch one on the ground floor. "You can guess that ratels don't much go in for giving gifts just as a thing. It has to be an occasion," Madge said, hitting the button for the third floor.

"Everything can be an occasion if you do it right," Ian noted with a soft laugh. "It's all about the culture. In the... well, the snob culture, you always bring something. It tells them you're rich enough to bring them something. That's why it's always wine or brandy or something with a bit of a price tag."

"Oh, posturing! I get posturing," Madge said with a nod of her head. "We're famous for it. It's just the same, with less snarling and snapping."

"Snarling is optional, but usually behind the backs of others. Snapping is considered uncouth unless you have enough cash on hoof," Ian noted with a smile. "You can go ahead and snap, that would shake things up."

"Your family friends are too dull. I'll stick with the Lionhearts," Madge said, allowing Ian off of the elevator first.

The two made their way down the hall, Madge knocking solidly on the door. When it opened up both of them were on the level to greet one of their hosts, Ian looking slightly up and Madge slightly down. It was Madge who offered a smile and said, "Bounteous blessings, Mrs. Lionheart."

Dawn clicked her tongue and wagged a hoof split. "Madge... you looked after Leodore when my father was literally gunning for him. I keep telling you, it's Dawn." The ewe was dressed in a casual powder blue top and a pair of stretchy capri pants that let her swelling belly be shown. She motioned the two into the cozy apartment, a lion-sized space covered in boosters and runners to make everything more convenient for Dawn.

"Sorry, Dawn. I have professionalism on my mind. I get used to it as a chair. Doctor this, Professor that. But... that's for elsewhere," Madge said with a sigh.

Ian held up the bottle of wine with a large smile. "Brought you a little something. It was time that I gave you something, it's only polite."

"Being only an executive my father wasn't properly upper class, but Pride paid well and Taka Pride was generous with his hard workers," Leodore said, dressed rather similarly to Ian, only with his color scheme being cool pastels in the purple area. He was covered in front with an apron bearing an enlarged image from his Yes Ewe Can mug, with a toque covering most of his upper mane. He took the bottle and began rummaging in the freezer for ice. "He loved to put on airs. Bringing by a bottle of wine when we went to see someone or another of some import was the one he knew scored him the most points."

"And he was right," Ian said, helping out by holding the container for the ice and letting Leodore spin the bottle in it. "It's a little nod that everyone understands. Everything about it is subjective so, just rot-talk your way through it and you're golden."

"That's the truth," Leodore said, pointing to the second-paw table set for four beside which was a high-chair in which sat Agnes, the little black wooly lioness dressed in a leaf green dress. "Just set it down in the middle. I've got the meal almost ready."

"You seem to be progressing well," Madge noted, pointing down at Dawn's belly.

"You'd never be able to guess my progress," Dawn laughed. "I got used to the big belly with Agnes. Of course I have another large one. At best, they could be passing for a lion. But probably another lion-ish hybrid."

"You'll have to tell me about getting comfortable with that kind of thing. Look at Ian, you think I'll be carrying something ratel sized?" Madge asked with a chuckle.

"I want to say you will but the odds aren't in favor of that. I'll give you the name of the lumbar support company I use, and some of the products that help out a lot," Dawn said, patting Madge on the shoulder.

Ian sniffed the air and sighed softly. "A roasted gourd this week? How nice, but I like fish just fine. I like the experience."

"I happen to like roast gourds myself. It's nice to change up the menu now and then," Leodore said, pulling a large, striped-rind gourd out of the oven.

Dawn pointed between the various figures. "Tiny, skinny, healthy, hunky. All figures make a world. Leodore takes great pains to keep those muscles big and solid," she said, fanning herself as she thought about it. "He limits fish and bugs. He lets me have those to keep my fat steady. Babies need good nutrition."

"I think I eat enough for a pregnancy," Madge said with a laugh.

"Alright folks, have a seat," Leodore said, setting down bowls of sides. Honeyed carrots, braised celery, amaranth and herb dressing. He took a seat across from Dawn, who was set beside a happily babbling Agnes. He finished things off by passing Dawn a bottle he had been holding inside his coat. "There we go, should be warm enough, right from my heart."

"And my... parts," Dawn said with a slight blush, taking the bottle and setting it on the table.

Ian sat across from Madge, blowing a kiss to her before he took Dawn's hoof and Leodore's paw. Madge herself did the same, everyone bowing their heads as Leodore spoke. "This day of rest is for us to know the wonder of abundance and bask in the joy that is family and friends. As we gather together, and as we consume this generous meal, let us always remember what became of our ancestors when they gained their crops. When they found stability and plenty, they gained peace and security. May there be plenty for us in the future. Peace and plenty to us all."

"Peace and plenty to us all," the others repeated.

Leodore took up a big knife and a two-pronged serving fork, cutting into the large gourd releasing a rich, heady aroma. He cut thick slices of the thing, passing them around the table while Dawn fed Agnes. Everyone got their own sides, Ian scooping small portions of all the sides, gracefully and daintily cutting and eating the gourd.

Madge, for her part, surreptitiously scooped up big portions of everything and ate with her head close to the plate. She did everything in her power to be silent as she shoveled food into her mouth, eyes darting around to see if she was being observed. Her lifestyle might have changed, but nothing could wring the ratel out of her. Even so, she still felt welcomed, no matter what she was, and that was wonderful.