Nick eats greasy bug sliders for dinner at his favorite bar, a seedy joint along the Riverside called "We're Closed". This was where he was supposed to end a day of hustling, but he wasn't supposed to end up… does this feeling have a name? Lost? Disturbed? Haunted? Dealing with emotions isn't his strong suit.
She's alive.
Weeks ago, knowing that fact would have settled all the unrest in his mind. Simply seeing her again would have given him a lifetime of happiness. But tonight, surrounded by neon lights, cigarette smoke and a terrible cover band with an out of tune guitarist, Nick is a lone fox with a problem no one can relate to.
She's alive, but she's not really Judy. And it turns out he really did eat a rabbit when he went savage.
It wasn't her, thank God, but unless he somehow ended up with a false memory, he ate a mammal.
Okay, then. So it happened. It happened in the past while he was in a deranged state. Granted, it's probably the worst thing he's ever done, but at least he didn't do it intentionally. It was a freak accident. If Nick reflected on all the ways he's screwed others over in his lifetime, he could go insane with guilt without much assistance.
But someone made that freak accident possible. Bellwether? What did she have to gain from keeping the real Officer Hopps alive?
Who knows. Who knows anything anymore. Who knows why Judy won't use her real name, who knows why she's hiding in a seedy motel room.
An elk doe punches a red deer stag, and the lion bouncer breaks them up and escorts them out the door. The crowd looks up from their drinks and games of billiards.
What if she...
No. Judy would never do that. She made a mistake with the Night Howlers. That's all there is to it. She would never let him be darted. Not after he told her the muzzle story, a story no one else has heard besides his mother.
But Judy could. She can be unpredictable. A little impulsive. Always driven. And like any good hustler, she's three steps ahead of everyone else. Even if that means...
Nick takes a swig of Blind Pig IPA. Nope. He won't consider it. A world in which Officer Hopps operates in a moral gray area and is willing to use him as collateral damage is a world he doesn't want to live in. That bunny is pure. Despite the odds, she managed to retain all the integrity and sincerity he was forced to give up, and she brought back what little was left in him. Judy's filled with so much life that she glows.
Goddammit, it's true— he loves her. Judy Hopps is his partner. And if his partner betrayed him...
He stares at the neon signs.
Then there would be no hope left in the world. Nothing would have meaning. And he might as well not wake up in the morning.
But Nick has gotten used to waking up in the morning, and so he orders another beer to forget the idea. The cover band struggles through "Muskrat Love" under fire from the insults of the bar goers, until the armadillo bassist pulls his plug from the amp and stomps off.
That night, Nick dreams she's in his bed. Sobbing.
"Carrots!" He turns on the bedside lamp. "Carrots, what is it?"
Judy pulls the covers tight to her face, shaking with fear. "It's too late!"
"Too late? Too late for what?" Nick strokes the back of her head, but she recoils at his touch.
"It's over, Nick! It's over!" Her pupils are large and lifeless. "We're finished. It's too late!"
"Oh, little bunny, nothing's finished…"
She screams.
And he wakes with a jolt, moaning and gasping for air.
Nick stumbles into the kitchen in his boxers and puts on the kettle for a hot toddy. He's never been superstitious, and he's never given dreams much credence, but that dream… It can't be a good sign.
Why would she tell him it's over? She's just now came back into his life, and there are so many more cases, so many more hustles...
Nick adds whiskey and honey to the mug, and he pours the hissing kettle. It can't be because...
He shivers. No, Carrots. You wouldn't have.
I won't let you.
The hot toddy eases Nick back to sleep, but the dread lingers into the next morning. He waits in front of a car repair shop in Sahara Square, scanning the sidewalk to flag down pedestrians.
It's not that he knows Judy made him go savage— it's that she could have. It gnaws at him, no matter how hard he tries to push it out of his mind.
And if she did… he doesn't want to know. Ever.
He could marry her, adopt three dozen kits with her, and go to his grave being lied to as long as he doesn't have to come to terms with that possibility.
His phone buzzes. It's a strange number:
Hi Nick, this is Maddy. I'm using my boss Jeff's phone so don't do anything embarrassing. You still up for dinner?
He's always up for dinner with his bunny!
Of course
Great! We need a dark quiet place where we can talk and not be noticed. I have a lot of important things I need to tell you ASAP.
That… could mean anything. Hell, she might want to confess her love of binge-watching Bray's Anatomy.
Jeff suggested Caetano's in the Rainforest District. You been there before?
No. It's a date place. Is this a date
I don't know but I need to see you tonight Nick. It's very important.
He gulps. C'mon, be real. She isn't going to talk about that.
Ok. What time
6:30?
Hmm might be tough, my boss isn't as flexible as yours
Hehe. I'll make reservations. See you then!
Ok. Say hi to Jeff. Btw co-ops suck, I hate groceries
Hardy-har.
The streets of Sahara Square are deserted today. Nick gives up on his current location and heads off to the next shop on his list.
This is exactly why he doesn't do relationships— you have to let them get to you. And she's already gotten to him many times over.
If Judy were your average street hustler, he'd expect her to screw him over in some way. That comes with the territory. He would prepare himself beforehand, and after she betrayed him, he'd cut his losses and move on.
But she's his bunny. The bunny who saved his life in more ways than one, the bunny he lost...
Nothing's going to make him lose her again. Not even reality. No matter what the evidence shows, Officer Judy Hopps would never hurt her fox.
Is he a sucker for believing that? Is he just another alcoholic afraid to face the truth?
Ugh, the A-word. That word needs to be banished from the dictionary.
Nick gets another message:
This is Jeff, Maddy's boss. I'm curious why you think co-ops suck. We try to strike a balance between access to quality goods and affordability. If you have ideas for making our store better, I'd love to hear them. :-)
He laughs so hard that tears roll down his face. Wow, he needed that.
Caetano's is packed when Nick gets there— there's a line out of the door for mammals waiting for a table, and even the line for talking to the hosts and hostesses is five mammals deep. He wears his usual tie with his dress shirt, having made an attempt at ironing it.
She's going to tell you. She's going to confess. You can't stop it.
"I have a reservation," his voice cracks. "For two." What is this, middle school again?
"Under what name?" The capybara host is giving him the familiar "what is this fox trying to pull" look. Goddamn it, voice crack!
"It's for Maddy." What's her fake last name? "Hustlender. Holstander. Something like that."
The capybara looks in the reservation book. "Madeline Hulstlander. And one guest."
"Yes. I'm the guest."
The capybara raises a skeptical eyebrow. "This way, please."
Caetano's is decorated with full-grown palm trees and towering vine-covered columns that suggest ancient ruins. The lights are dimmed to a warm glow, and gentle bossa nova music plays in the background.
All these happy couples falling in love. And she's about to destroy… no, she's not.
Nick follows the capybara to one of the midsize mammal rooms, who seats him at a small booth hidden between the palms. "Your waiter will attend to you shortly. Mr…"
"Wilde. Nick Wilde."
The capybara sneers.
"That's right, capypants! It's me, the bunnykiller."
As soon as the host leaves the room, Nick drops his head to the table and stretches his limbs across it. Where the hell is she? What the hell is he doing here? He could leave before it gets dangerous… but damn if he doesn't need to see her face again. His bunny.
The tuxedoed tapir waiter stands at attention next to the booth.
Nick does not sit up.
The tapir shifts his weight.
Nick stares into space.
The tapir clears his throat. "Good evening, sir. Is this your first time dining with us at Caetano's?"
Nick rolls his head to the side. "Sure is, buddy."
"Then welcome. My name is Estevão and I will have the pleasure of serving you this evening. May I suggest you begin your Caetano's experience with our Salada Caetano? Atop a bed of romaine and arugula we combine lemon, green onions and macadamia nuts with our house blend of tropical herbs and spices…"
"Gimme a dirty martini. Extra dry, straight up, shaken. And make it quick."
"Yes sir."
The tapir brings him the drink, and Nick knocks it back before the waiter has turned away from the table. "Same thing!" he calls out.
The waiter blinks. "Yes sir. Would you like to hear tonight's specials?"
"Nope. Actually, get me two of them. They're going fast."
The waiter bites his lip. "Yes sir."
There's no way Nick can get through this evening sober. Not when this much is at stake.
He looks at his phone: 6:47. Judy isn't the type to run late. Maybe she's taking the coward's way out. Good. They'll be able to avoid the truth together.
Nick takes on the next two martinis with the same urgency. This round, the tapir waits at the booth for him to finish.
"Same thing, sir?"
"You bet. Three of them."
"Are you dining alone tonight, sir?"
"Possibly."
"May I suggest a seat at our bar? I believe they are better equipped to meet your needs."
"No, she got a reservation for a table. We better give her a table. Isn't that how it works?"
The waiter gathers up the empty glasses. "Yes. I would suggest that."
Nick shreds his cocktail napkins with his claws as he waits. 6:54. The booze better kick in soon. He should've ordered something more potent, like a flight of scotch or bourbon. This just seemed like a martini place.
The tapir brings the next three martinis on a silver tray and stands with his hooves behind his back. "I must inform you that these are the last drinks I'm able to serve until you place an order. Would you like to hear tonight's specials, sir?"
"Better give it a moment. It hasn't kicked in yet."
The tapir gives a barely audible snort. "Very well, sir."
Nick downs the first martini but sips the second one slower— he's feeling it in his legs now. The legs always go first for him. And by the time he works on the third, Judy comes rushing towards the booth, out of breath.
My God! Maybe it's all the booze, but she looks amazing! Even in her stupid glasses and that silly flannel shirt! If he could, he'd take both of them off right now. That must be the booze.
"Nick! I'm so glad… I'm so sorry!" She jumps into the seat. Tonight she's wearing a furpiece to cover that awful scar. Good.
"A delivery came late and by the time I could get away it was rush hour and the commute is always so bad on Fridays." She looks around. "Isn't it beautiful! Nobody's going to find us here."
Judy looks at the two empty martini glasses and the third pressed to his lips.
"Hello, Nick."
Those purple eyes… oh my God.
"Howdy, lumberjack. You seen a bunny named Maddy come in? She's running late."
Judy looks at her plaid shirt. "Heh. This is standard at the grocery store. I have to blend in. How did your day go?"
"Came and went."
She sets her purse on the seat. "Okay." Judy lowers her voice. "No more smalltalk. I was going to wait until I completed my mission. But I realized that it's time to finish it tonight, and I might as well tell you now. You have a right to know everything, because you're still my partner. No matter what I did to you or how dangerous it is." She exhales. "You're all I have left."
Bunny, no. Don't go there. That is dangerous.
"Nick." She reaches across the table and squeezes his paw. "I tried to make the world a better place. But… I haven't been one of the good guys."
"Not good?" Nick takes a sip. "What kind of talk is that? You're practically a saint!"
She gives him a sympathetic smile. "You haven't really known me. The real Judy shoots first and asks questions later. She doesn't know when to quit."
"I'm pretty sure that's called 'being assertive', bunny. Or 'persevering', or some other damn noble thing."
"Not when you hurt others along the way. It isn't worth it. I had to find that out the hard way." She sighs and looks as though she's on the verge of tears. "Have you ever done something you thought was for the greater good, but it wasn't? Were you ever so small-minded that you believed the ends could justify the means, no matter how terrible?"
"You know me, Carrots. I've never made a morally questionable move in my life."
"This is very serious." She squeezes his paw tighter. "Have you ever hurt the person you loved the most? Because I did."
NO. He's simply not going to hear this.
"Why don't you come right out with it, bunny? You regret you haven't slept with me."
Judy blinks and lets go of his paw. "What?"
"You know you want it!" Nick knocks back the last of his martini. "But I'm not that easy. Especially when you're dressed like you bat for the other team. Makes me doubt I'll get a run."
"Well that's a way to change the subject! Where did you get the idea…"
"Oh, come on. XX, XY. Male fox times female rabbit. It's a simple multiplication problem that's easily solved."
Judy frowns. "Okay, Slick. Just because I'm a bunny doesn't mean I'll hop in bed at a moment's notice. I've passed up chances with gorgeous, highly eligible mammals. Bunnies have self-control too!"
"Sure they do."
"Can we get back to what happened? I have to leave in an hour!"
"Nope. So we headed to your place or mine?"
"Why would... I mean... " Judy throws her paws up. "I haven't even seen the menu yet!"
"Neither have I. But believe me, I'm trying!"
Her ears fall flat on her head. "Are you drunk, Nicholas?"
"No."
She leans across the table and sniffs his breath. "How many drinks have you had?"
"Well, I started when I was fifteen, so averaging about four a day..."
The tapir waiter returns to the booth with two menus. "Good evening. My name is Estevão and I will have the pleasure…"
"Excuse me," Judy interrupts, "how many drinks has he had?"
"Six, ma'am. Six dirty martinis."
Judy turns to Nick. "Were they any good?"
"Meh. There was a passing resemblance to martinis."
"I'll have the same."
"A dirty martini?" says the waiter.
"No," says Nick. "She'll have six of them."
The waiter gives him a fed up stare.
"Okay. If you insist." She grins. "Six fox-sized martinis."
The waiter looks at Nick, then at Judy, and then back at Nick again. "Certainly, ma'am. I'll bring you your six martinis shortly."
He drops the menus on the table.
Nick flashes a toothy smile. "So. You too admit that you're powerless over alcohol. That's the First Step."
"Wouldn't you know."
"How dare you, rabbit!" Nick tumbles back into the booth. "I may have had a few dark periods of sobriety, but I am fully recovered!"
"Nick. I'm not one to judge, but at the very least you have to accept that you're a heavy drinker."
"Seriously?" He pushes himself up. "Eighty pounds is not heavy."
"It's not good for your health. But I think I'm partially to blame…"
She takes his paw again and looks him in the eye.
"Listen to me. I've hurt you so bad, I doubt we'll ever be friends again. I thought the rules didn't apply to me. To us. I sincerely believed that somehow you were stronger than the others, that you could fight it…" Her voice gets choked up. "Which is why... "
He's not hearing this! The words mean nothing!
Nick pulls his paw away. "It's okay, I already forgave you."
"But I haven't told you…"
"Sure you did, under the bridge. That's ancient history."
"That's not..."
"It's no big deal, Carrots. It's over. Long gone."
She shakes her head. "Oh, Nick. You're too drunk for a serious conversation!"
"There's no such thing as too drunk."
The tapir returns with a silver tray. "Your martinis, ma'am." He sets the six of them in front of her and rolls his eyes to ceiling. "Will that be all?"
"Yes, thank you."
Nick eyes the martinis as if they might be filled with poison. There's way too much booze in them for a little bunny. "You're not going to drink all of them?"
"I am."
"Right now?"
She takes a sip.
"Bunny, you're gonna kill yourself!" Nick stands and grabs her wrist in an attempt to pull the glass away from her, but his drunken legs send him tumbling into the walkway. He lands on the carpet with a thud.
"Nick!"
Judy hops out and helps him off the floor. Nick reaches for her seat to support himself, but instead he tips over Judy's purse, sending its contents scattering.
"Nick! Please don't worry! The drinks are virgins!" She gathers her spilled items and places them on the table. "When I made our reservations, I told them I was a recovering alcoholic and that no one should serve me a drop of alcohol. Even if I asked. I can't let anything stop me from finishing my mission."
Nick's jaw drops. "So you…"
"It was so stupid of me to joke around like that." She puts the rest of her items back in her purse. Except for her phone. "Especially after all the awful things I…"
"No. You hustled me." Nick wipes away a tear. "Judy, You hustled me! Just like old times! Just like back in the day!"
He reaches across the table and digs his muzzle into the soft, soft rabbit fur of her neck. "Oh! You really are back!"
She pulls his head close for an awkward hug. "We had some wonderful moments together, didn't we?"
"Had?"
"You'll always be my sly fox." She lets go. "I'd love to be back, Nick. But I can't."
"Why the hell not! You're here! With me! I'll take care of you! Nothing can tear us apart again! I promise!"
"I'm completing my mission tonight." Her shocked look reminds him of Judy in his dream. "I have all I need need to take him down. I need to make things right. Which is why you need to hear the truth about your partner. And you need know what I know in case something happens to me. So you can finish it."
"But you'll be Judy after your mission is over? Won't you?"
Her face drains of life. "I need to make things right. Whatever it takes."
Nick's ears drop flat. "What does that…"
Judy sits up straight, ears alert and twisting.
"What is it?"
Nick follows the direction of her ears— she's listening to a group of ocelots pass through the room on their way to the bar. One of them wears a pork pie hat.
"Judy, what's going on?"
She grabs her purse and bolts. Away from the ocelots.
"Carrots!"
Oh Judy, you left your phone behind! Nick grabs it and chases after her, but his legs have decided not to cooperate. He reaches at the sides of tables and the trunks of palm trees in an attempt to send himself on a straight course.
"Carrots! You can't just skip the check like that! You have to forget your wallet first!"
The walkway outside Caetano's is lined with tall vireya bushes, and Nick follows her scent down to the main road and the bus stop. But from there it disperses into the night air. She must have caught a bus just minutes earlier.
He slumps on the bench and looks at her phone. She's really going to regret leaving this behind. He taps the home button— it's off.
Nick turns it on.
The phone seems like it's never been used— there are no photos, no downloaded apps, no web history. Did she just buy this? It doesn't look brand new.
He checks the settings: It's registered to someone named George Catlan.
Where did you get this phone, Carrots?
The phone sends a signal to the local cell towers, creating a record in a database as it comes online. Nick takes the bus to the Fruit Market station, and the records show George Catlan's phone moving across the Rainforest District, and then to Nick's apartment on the edge of Downtown.