Gideon was out the window again, but instead of a contented smile he wore a heavy frown; he never asked for the weight of the world, after all. Judy would shoulder it if she could and run up a mountain despite it, but it was not her burden to bear. Nick, whom mastered the art of defusing tension, knew there wasn't much he could do in the middle seat of a van, except control the radio. So, he turned it on at low volume, and tuned through the stations until he found what little he recognized as a Chronicler's hymn. The bunny looked to him curiously, and he answered by studying the stouter fox's visibly relaxing posture.
"Hey Jude," Gideon muttered, not yet turning from the window, "What d'you feel when you hear Grav's voice?"
"I'm sorry?" she asked, eyes glimpsing from the road.
"You have an emotion for each of us," he enunciated and turned to face her, "What about Grav's? You recognized him back at the apartment."
"I…" she hesitated, drumming her fingers on the steering wheel, "I feel nothing."
"'Nothing'?" challenged Nick, clicking off the radio, "No metaphor for nails on a chalkboard, or slopping muck?"
"When I hear his voice, there's nothing there. I've tried finding something, anything, but-"
"Carrots, I regard emotions as a necessary nuisance," he teased, leaning in, "but even I can feel his negativity."
"Okay, you want imagery?" she smirked, pushing his smug face away, "Imagine that life is like… a hallway, and everyone you meet is a room. So, you know each door's address, and maybe you can see the light from under the door, right? That's how you know they're in there, and if you get close enough to put your ear at the door you can hear what's going on inside. Well, I can hear what's going on from the hallway, but with Grav... there's no sound, at all. The light's on but there's no talking, or music, or TV, or microwave; it's dead silent, and super creepy. I felt it - or, didn't feel - ever since I met him as a kid."
"I always figured you pushed him away because he kept chasing you," Gideon remarked, "Why's he so set on having you?"
"C'mon, Bangs, the guy's obviously a little-" Nick interjected.
"It's okay, Nick," she said, calmly driving along the evening country road, "It's because he thinks we're fated to be together. Remember when I said 'five or six other bunnies' born under the crossed stars? As far as I know, only Grav is exactly the same age as me, down to the second."
"'Down to the second', really?" the taller fox doubted.
"Bunny doctors are very precise when it comes to timing," she grinned, "Anyway, I guess as soon as he found that out, his new life's mission was to make me his mate. That hasn't stopped him from chasing tail, of course; the concepts of 'love' & 'devotion' are likely foreign concepts to him."
"You & Grav are literally star-crossed," Nick observed, and reached over to console her, "You have my deepest sympathies."
"Thanks."
"Hey Stretch," Gideon continued, getting a casually confident grin from the taller fox, "You & Judy looked at each other when she talked about those stars. I might not be super observant, but I know pain when I see it. What really happened?"
Nick was, in one of the few times Judy could recall, stunned to silence, and he glanced back at the bunny before returning to his cousin with an unsure smile, "It really was the night my dad opened his shop, but, umm… how do I put this…" Nick paused.
"Just come out with it," the stouter fox suggested.
"Alright," the taller fox agreed, "Give me your paws." Gideon complied in hesitation, so Nick cupped each and ducked his head, placing their palms and fingers around his skull, around his cheeks, and around his nape. "Do you feel any scars?"
"No?" Gideon fretted.
"That's because my muzzle wasn't on for as long as yours," Nick returned the paws relaxed into his position. Judy focused on the road as best she could while Gideon gawked.
"I wanted to join the Junior Ranger Scouts when I was 8, to be a trusted part of a group. On my way to my first Scout meeting, I saw those crossed stars and made a wish on them, like any kit would," he narrated, "When I met with my fellow Junior Range Scouts, they held me to the ground and forced a muzzle on me, because that was the only way they could trust me. It was only on for a minute as I ran outside and yanked it off, but I'm still haunted by it.
"By the way," Nick lauded, "You're much slyer than I give you credit for."
"Oh, well," he shrugged, still learning the art of composure, "I don't have the luxury of being doughy, anymore, so I gotta sly up and fox right, ya'know?"
"Were these questions leading up to something, or simply curiosities?"
"They were," Gideon remembered, "I guess this one is for the you both: you got the first 'ka-poof!' message hours before Grav went to pick up Bo at Ms. Clara's, so how could he know about the whipped cream before that?"
"Oh," Judy realized, "That's a very good question."
"See? Cousins," Nick nudged with his elbow, "Slyness capacity."
"I think it's safe to say that aside from Bo, none of us told told anyone else about it," Judy said, "You didn't tell Esther, right?"
"Of course not," the taller fox scoffed, "What do you take me for?"
"We decided not to tell Essy," Gideon confirmed, tossing a thumb between the two of them, "I don't like keeping secrets from her, not if they're this big, so after this is over I'm letting her know what happened."
"That would be for the best," Judy agreed, "If this continues beyond tomorrow, she'd be a great asset. As for Ms. Clara, I was careful to give only the essentials."
"Ms. Clara didn't blab. You both can vouch for her character, and while I exaggerated a bit when I said she was a 'master hustler' earlier today, she's certainly not dumb. Additionally, matters of personal secrecy are obviously important to her; remember her reaction when she thought she let slip a juicy nugget?"
"Whether she told Grav or not is a moot point," the bunny stated, "because she would only think to tell him if he charmed it out of her, which means he either knew or suspected it beforehand, ergo, Ms. Clara wouldn't be the initial informant."
"Unless she were in cahoots with Grav,"Nick speculated.
"Which she ain't, and the proof's in the pudding, or in this case, the whipped cream. If she were in cahoots with Grav, it'd be her cream I was whipping beforehand, not Tad's, and she wouldn't be so happy to know that a fresh batch was going into the TBR, would she?"
"Careful there, Gid," smirked Judy, "You're on your way to being the second fox cop."
"But then who'd bake my pies?" he chuckled.
"An excellent point," agreed Nick.
"If this weren't so serious, I'd be having fun figuring this stuff out," Gideon dared to grin.
"You can have fun figuring it out, so long as you don't lose sight of your objective," she instructed, "Now, back to the matter at hand: how did Grav find out about the whipped cream before he picked up Bo?"
"What was he doing at Ms. Clara's farm in the first place?" Nick postulated, "After taking some Joules to the jewels, he should be laid up for the rest of the day, not joyriding."
"You don't think he was at her farm by coincidence?" doubted Judy.
"Not for a second," he scoffed again, "but that would mean he also knew that Bo would be there, something that was only possible to know when we got to the TBR."
"The TBR…" Gideon repeated, fingers drumming his chin, "There were bunnies everywhere during setup, well into the afternoon. I remember thinking aloud at times and they'd pop up out of nowhere with an answer; it was right unnerving, I'll be honest. That's why I busied myself with the oven; it was the only place I could get any privacy."
"Maybe we should've taken a page from Goliath Grey, and acted as though someone paid attention to everything we said and did," Nick remarked stiffly.
Judy grasped the same revelation as she slowed to a stop before the sign of the Hopps family farm, looking out to the distant farmhouse dimly lit like a candle. "There's a lot of extended family in Bunnyburrow right now," she reecalled, knuckles gripping around the steering wheel, at first with anxiety but then with determination, "We can't assume that they're all in league with Grav, but I hate to admit it, we can't pretend that no one is, either. He's always had flunkies, ever since he was a kid, and I should've known better, but I hoped against hope that the years made him into a better bunny."
"It's not your fault, Carrots. Bullies don't leave the playground, they either reform or they take the playground with them, and Grav doesn't seem the reforming type."
"So… does Grav want to restart the pred-scare to make Zootopia his playground?" questioned Gideon, "He can't have that much to gain from it, can he?"
"I don't know what more he can gain, his dad is the head of the Hopps processing plant in the city, after all," Judy explained with a heavy sigh, shifting the van back into gear and continuing onward.
"This isn't important information?" Nick chided.
"Sorry, Slick, you two are so familiar with my family, I keep forgetting how much you don't know," she smiled sadly, "Bunny family history isn't something that fits on a Woolipedia page, after all, it's something that's... absorbed by being part of it."
"So... do you think Grav's dad is behind all this?" Gideon asked.
"If I did, I'd be grasping at straws; he's a pretty nice bunny," she admitted, "Sure, Grav's a rich & powerful sadist, but something like this doesn't make any sense. If the pred-scare flared up again from a single incident, the best he could hope for is to apprehend whoever caused it and come across as a big hero."
"Hey Bangs, remember that 'worse' I alluded to earlier?"
"If you had this figured out since then, why not say something sooner?" rebuked Gideon.
"I didn't have this 'figured out' until now, because I needed my bunny to help piece everything together," Nick rebutted, "I hoped against hope that he wasn't a manipulative sociopath fueled by daddy's dollars, but this new insight proved my initial impression of him almost absolutely correct."
"'Almost'?"
"I don't know if he's killed anyone, yet," and crossed his fingers, "I'm really hoping 'not'."
"How about filling the rest of us in," Judy insisted, "What's this 'worse' you're talking about?"
Nick gave the floor over to a new, doubt-free Gideon, "Remember back at Woodlands, how Grav and his jerks kept teasing me every day until I pushed back? I think he did that to make me into a bad guy to protect the other kids from."
"I'd bet my tail he's at it again," Nick added, "For the record, I don't think that is the sole cause of all this, but I'm sure it's what got Grav into it."
Gideon spotted the radish fields passing by, and said, "Before we get there, Judy, I want to thank you for standing up for me when I was picked on as a kid. And... I'm glad it was you that kept me from hurting the other kids, even though I didn't show it at the time."
Judy loosed a quiet, heartfelt moan of gratitude, bright purple eyes looking at the stouter fox, "Nick, would you hug him for me, please?"
"What, now?" Nick asked, glancing at the nearer farmhouse, "You can't wait until we get out?"
"C'mon, Slick, the moment's fading and I'm at the wheel," she said, "Now get hugging."
"Don'tcha wanna hug me, Stretch?" teased Gideon, holding out his arms as best he could in the confined space of the van.
"I'll tell him about the clothespin," she warned.
"What about the clothespin?"
Nick leaned forward and embraced his cousin, "I'm proud of you, Bangs," he said swiftly, "You've gone through the fires of tribulation as a squishy doughball, and came out a crispy-crusted loaf of bread."
"Thanks?" he worried, clapping the taller fox's back as he glanced up at the clothespin clipped to the overhead visor.
Before Judy had a chance to park the van, Nick reached up and grabbed not only the doodles, but the clothespin as well, stuffing it all into his shirt pocket, "I'll hold onto those, you know, just in case."
"Okay, we're here long enough for me to change into fresh clothes and kiss my parents, and then we're out," she said, closing the windows and whispering, "Gid, this is something Nick & I have done a few times, so you stick with him and follow his lead."
Gideon hesitated, perhaps wondering what exactly they did in the ZPD, but nodded with an affirming grunt, "Roger that," he said, cupping his mouth to do so.
"Alright, shuffle out, I need to stretch my legs," Nick insisted, shoo-ing the both of them. When he had a chance to shake some feeling into his feet and arch his spine, "Please tell me you're fit to drive later," he said to the stouter fox.
"Hmm?" he grinned, "I dunno, I actually got some shuteye with her behind he wheel."
"Yeah, you wait until she takes off the velvet gloves, then you'll be begging me to drive."
"C'mon, you two," she called after resetting the size adjustments to the driver's seat and locking the van, striding over to them, "Gid, the back is secure, right?"
"Oh, you betcha," the baker confirmed, accepting the keys and slipping them into a pocket, "Locked up tight."
"Good," she said, and turned towards the farmhouse as she often remembered it, sitting amidst its grand fields like a humble beacon of familial safety. Judy knew about the side-road which Gideon frequented whenever he visited, and decided it a safer bet than the larger driveway, which the kitchen overlooked and lead to the main road where the rocks were picked up.
"So, I notice a few things," Nick began, following his partner with his cousin keeping pace.
"And what's that?" Judy humored, handing off the gate.
"Firstly, bunnies don't play outside at night much," he said about the empty yard which, only yesterday, was bustling with rabbit activity.
"We're not exactly an 'outside-at-night' kind of species," she mused, "It sounds like there there's a 'secondly', and I daresay a 'thirdly' coming up."
"No 'thirdly' this time," he smirked, "but since you mention it: secondly, whose very expensive car is that in the driveway?"
Judy peered through the darkness in the direction of his pointed finger, catching sight of a sleek, black Roars Royce basking in the ambient light of the kitchen window. "I... don't know?" She paused, ears upright and towards the house to catch any sound she could.
"Let's find out," Gideon prompted, and ushered them both fully through the gate so he could close it behind him, "Back door or front door?"
"Front door," she said, not whispering as much, and turning to face them both with a telltale swivel of her ears, "I want to warn the both of you right now, because I don't know what to expect here. The house is kinda empty, which is weird in of itself, but on top of that Grav's parents are in there with mine."
"Okay, we found out," Gideon said, and then turned to leave.
"Do you know what they're saying?" Nick asked, grabbing the back of his cousin's shirt.
"It sounds like they're visiting, and that's it," she explained, looking over her shoulder, "No raised or strained voices, just... visiting."
"Courage to the sticking place," he determined, and walked past Judy towards the patio in his casual, confident gait, sparing a smirk over his shoulder, "we certainly won't get anywhere by standing around, will we?"
The other two picked up the pace, such that Judy could be the first to reach the front door and properly introduce herself, "Hello!" she called out, clapping her feet on the welcome mat before hopping in. Nick & Gideon followed suit, each ducking their heads enough to avoid a collision-induced headache, but did not greet in the same way. As she suspected, her parents, as well as Grav's, were sitting at the kitchen table.
"I told you I heard Judy," hushed Bonnie's voice after the soft scrape of wooden legs on tile, "Sweetheart, how're you feeling?"
"I didn't say you were wrong," responded Stu's voice, also followed by a similar scraping sound.
"You don't need to get up, Stu, I'm only fetching another cup," instructed Bonnie. "And finish your turn, we're all waiting on you."
The three poked into the kitchen doorway, catching sight of the four rabbit occupants. Bonnie was up at a cabinet, retrieving a cup as she said he would. Stu hovered over his chair, as though unsure whether he was standing or sitting; when he saw not only his daughter, but the foxes, he rose fully to his feet with a broad smile.
"Well, hey you two! What brings you 'round to the Hopps home?" he asked, and hastily followed up, "Not that you're not welcome, of course, you're always welcome here."
The other two bunnies were very well dressed, one a rotund male (who can't have been much older or younger than Stu), except mostly white with a generous splattering of dark coffee spots up his neck, over his head, and covering the bottom half of his ears. The other was a butterscotch female with a black splotch across her eye and up her ear on the right side, wearing a modest (yet not necessarily humble) teal dress.
"I've been better, but it's been a crazy day, as I'm sure you know," she related, "Hi Uncle Magnus, Aunt Clea, it's good to see you both again. These are my friends, Nick Wilde & Gideon Grey-"
"Judy," said 'Magnus', his voice commanding attention without demanding it, "You needn't be sorry in the least; if anything I should be sorry for what happened to Bo." He stood as he spoke, and was actually a bit shorter than the average rabbit, but was of sturdy build & confident posture, which along with an unmistakeable charisma, made him seem larger than his physical stature. "I'm grateful that he's okay, but rest assured, Grav will not walk away from this unscathed. He's an adult after all, and will know the consequences of his actions."
I like this guy, Nick grimaced behind a polite, smiling mask, I don't want to like this guy, but I do, and that makes me uneasy.
"It's a good thing he wasn't crippled, you mean," Bonnie chided, getting in between him and her daughter, "Here you go, Judy, a few drops of cream and no sugar, just how you like it," she said, kissing her on the cheek and setting a cup of evening coffee into her grasp, "Now go get changed, you look like you crawled out of the washing machine."
"Thanks, Mom," she smirked, accepting the beverage with a reciprocated kiss and then a sip from the cup, "I won't be long, so don't have too much fun without me," she grinned, and slipped from the kitchen; not before kissing her Dad, of course.
"Would either of you boys like some coffee?" Bonnie continued, giving a cold shoulder to Magnus so to address the foxes, "I could make some tea for you, Gideon, of course, I know you don't care for coffee much."
"Thanks Mrs. H, but-"
"We would love a hot drink," Nick interrupted with his most gracious grin. Bonnie nodded and removed herself to prepare the offered favors. Bonnie doesn't care for Magnus, and I don't blame her; I would not want to have known him when he was younger, he speculated, I thought Grav's dark eyes were something he cultivated himself, but I can see where he got them, except daddy here hides them better.
"Nick Wilde, was it?" Magnus smiled, presenting a handshake.
"Pleasures abound," the taller fox assured, grin unwavering as he reached for the offered paw, but slipped past it to feel at the dark blue lapel and study its accompanying bright gold four-leaf-clover pin, "Where did you ever find a Ralph Lauroch dinner suit? You've keen taste, Mr. Hopps, I must say." He then firmly shook the presented hand.
"And you've a keen eye! But please, call me 'Magnus'," he insisted, unwavering in his politeness, "Stu is the 'Mr. Hopps' on this farm, after all."
"A responsibility I take very seriously," Stu affirmed, leaving the table to fetch more chairs, "It's your turn, Mag."
"In a minute, Stu, there are pleasantries I must attend to," he chuckled over his shoulder, and then turned back, "And I already know about you, Mr. Gideon Grey," he grinned with another offered handshake, "It is a treat to finally see you face-to-face."
"Oh, 'Gideon's fine," he responded, grasping the paw and shake it, "I'm afraid you have me at a disadvantage, though, since I only know you by name."
"Of course, how rude of me," he frowned, "Magnus & Clea Hopps, we're Grav's parents," he introduced, and then gestured to the sitting butterscotch lady-rabbit with a grin, beside whom he reclaimed his own seat. With the new chairs in place, each fox sat at the table (and with everything bunny-sized as it was, looked more like very careful squatting and tail-tucking), in the middle of which was a cribbage board and its associated cards.
"I was sure we had a box of tea in here somewhere," worried Bonnie.
"It's okay, Mrs. H, you don't need-" Gideon tried.
"There's some out in the pantry, I won't be much more than a minute."
"Hold on there, Bon," Stu cautioned, "the pantry's spare storage right now, I won't have you moving that stuff by yourself."
"Oh, so it is, isn't it?" Bonnie recalled, and headed for a doorway; en route, she set a mug of coffee on the table, "Here you go, Nick, you like it black, correct?" He grabbed up the bunny-sized mug to toast her his gratitude and sip his affirmation.
"D'you two need any help?" offered Gideon, making to rise from his chair.
"Wouldn't dream of it," assured Stu, "You've had a long enough day without having to get your own tea. Besides, we've got plenty of help around here, so there's no need for a guest to worry themselves. You two relax, we'll be back in a jiffy."
"C'mon, kids, pantry duty!" rang Bonnie's voice from out in the hall, and so followed the sparing scurry of feet and a vague affirming vocalization. Of the kitchen's remaining occupants, only the taller fox seemed wary of the new situation.
I will need to confirm Judy's definition of "kinda empty" later... wondered Nick.
"It's a delight to meet you both," Clea chimed in, presenting her paw across the table, to which either fox accepted in cordial greeting, "I'm only sorry it was under these circumstances. As soon as we heard about Grav's mischief today, we came right over to set him straight. Please accept our deepest apologies for the trouble he caused," she lamented, and then addressed Nick specifically, "I understand you & Bo were accosted by Grav earlier in the afternoon?"
So, Phil really did call their parents. There doesn't seem to be anything wrong with her, though; nice bunny, very proper, likely a regulating factor in this mateship, he pondered, "With all due respect, ma'am, my greater concern about Grav's behavior isn't his overt antagonism, troubling as it is," he began, and pulled out the clothespin from his shirt pocket to present the note, "but rather this." He unfolded the "ka-poof!" doodle from Gideon's vat and held it out for them to see, "Is this familiar to either of you?"
Magnus's eyes went dark as pitch despite his patient smile, but Clea's expression shifted to wry amusement. "I can't say it is, Nick," she said sweetly, "Should it be?"
And we're done here, decided Nick and grinned his most sincere grin, as though his life depended on it, "Only a trifling coincidence, then," he assured, snapping the paper back into a fold and tucking it away in his shirt pocket, "It was found after Grav was apprehended by Sheriff Longmare is all, right Gideon?"
"It might've been there the whole day for all we know," Gideon speculated aloud, deftly catching the cue, "My lot gets all kinds of trash blowing in sometimes; it's no big deal."
Careful, Bangs... Nick worried behind a shrugging smile, "I'm sure it's only a child's doodle, nothing more." Shoot, not what I wanted to say.
"Actually," chuckled Magnus, eyes still dark and smile still patient, "it does remind me of a superstition from centuries ago. Terribly archaic, though, no use for it in this day & age."
What I wouldn't give for a stampede of bunnies right about now, Nick fretted, sipping from his coffee, "You don't say? I heard that hair from a goat's beard in your pocket brings good luck, perhaps it's something like that?"
"It's a bit more macabre," he corrected, "It's said to keep away witches."
"I'll admit, that's pretty creepy," said Gideon, sifting his fingers through the fur on his arm, but for the most part putting up a cheery front, "Good thing there aren't too many of those flying about, huh?"
"Take it with a grain of salt, but it goes that if you mount a-" he began boisterously, paws around his own neck as though he were to pop his head off.
"Magnus!" scolded Clea, "That is by no means a topic of polite conversation."
"You're right, dear," he cast his smile aside for a ruing frown, paws folded on the table once again.
"Honestly, you're as bad as Grav sometimes," she chided, "What will I do with you both?"
His dark eyes dropped their severity with unnerving swiftness, "My apologies, boys, I can get carried away, sometimes, that's why I keep Clea nearby. I hope I didn't upset you?"
Gideon, you're either frozen in shock or a braver fox than I could've ever expected out of you, Nick considered, glancing from behind his coffee to the stiffly-seated pastry chef nearby. He, himself, had years of experienced indifference to fall back on and a year's worth of police training to act as a buffer, but ol' Bangs was still figuring out the finer points of jostled composure.
"Well," exhaled Gideon, claws digging into his own arm before relaxing, "It's a good thing we're civilized mammals, ain't it? Those practices went out with the dark ages, and not a moment too soon."
Bravo, cousin, you're learning from my stellar example. If only you worked with Finnick & I back in Zootopia, we'd have given even Mr. Big a run for his money, mused Nick, genuinely feeling more at ease knowing that he could loosen his metaphorical grip on Gideon's paw, Still, I know a veiled threat when I hear one, and I'd bet my tail Clea didn't stop him for our sakes. Thankfully, his ear flicked to the sounds of muffled voices from the hallway.
"I thought you threw those skis away, Bon?" asked Stu.
"They were a gift, Stu, what would I say to my brother when he finds out I got rid of them?" Bonnie answered.
"Mom, I'm sure you haven't skied since that one time," said Judy, "Uncle Terry will understand if you decide to donate them." She entered into the kitchen, wearing a familiar pink shirt, and by the stitching in the right leg, the exact blue jeans from when they uncovered Bellwether's scheme.
And then Nick looked again; he saw that the shirt was actually a newer, deeper shade of pink, but the jeans were definitely the same. Well, he considered, I don't need any more red flags a-wavin'. "Snow gear giving you trouble, Hoppses?" he grinned, craning his neck back to reference them while leaning in his chair.
"Be careful, Nick, you'll break your neck that way," Bonnie reprimanded, accepting the empty cup of coffee he offered up to her, "Will you three be staying for a bit of dinner, or are you heading out again?"
Oh, bless you, Bonnie, an easy exit if ever there was one, "Though it was simply delightful, I'm afraid our visit must be cut short," lamented the taller fox, rising up from the table with a sorry smile, and the stouter fox promptly following suit.
"That's a shame, but we can't expect you young folk to stick around with that party going on at the fairgrounds," grinned Stu, "half the house is over there right now, ya'know."
"Gonna hafta hold off on that cup of tea until next time, Mrs. H."
"I'll be sure to have it ready by then, but before you go, do take some food for the road," Bonnie assured, reaching up to stash the box in an overhead cabinet, before walking over to the fridge to pull out a sizeable, easily recognizable tupperware. She then walked over to where they both stood to hand off the leftovers, and then leaned up to hug around their necks, touching a motherly kiss on either cheek, "You're always welcome at the Hopps house."
The three bid their good-byes, even to some of the visiting relatives that poked in to see what was happening, and as they walked out to the nighttime yard Nick pointed at the container Gideon tucked under his arm, "Am I imagining things, or is that remarkably similar to what we're already toting around?"
"This?" he grinned and held up the item in question, "Bonnie must have a million of these things, because she keeps giving them to me filled with food. I mean, it's awful sweet, but she won't accept 'em back and I don't wanna throw 'em away."
"So you have a king's ransom in plastic containers stashed in your bakery," recalled an amused Nick.
"Mom buys them in bulk," shrugged the bunny, "Is that casserole or lasagna?"
"Casserole," he answered, peaking under the lid, and then smirked, "What kind?"
"Hmm…" she pondered, "It's Sunday, special occasion... three-bean, with her secret carrot-&-zucchini sauce."
"Nail on the head, Jude," chuckled Gideon, and tucked the tupperware under his arm once again as he opened up the gate.
They returned to the bakery van, well beyond the yard and out of view from the house, when Judy turned to them and dropped the merry facade after a cursory ear-swivel, "What happened in there?" she asked, clearly upset but by no means furious, especially not at them.
"Grav's parents are as crazy he is," Nick yelled in a harsh whisper, pulling out the note and unfolding it to reveal the inside, "This is a fox's head mounted on a plaque!"
"Magnus almost said so himself before Clea stopped him," Gideon said, also in a harsh, yelling whisper, "Grav sent these as a threat!"
"Will you both calm down!" she harshly whispered right back, "We have no proof that these are death threats, except for a private conversation and a hunch. Right now, we need to get over to the Sheriff Longmare and open up that investigation. If you want, we can discuss this on the way, but as it stands I need you both to not lose your heads!"
A dark, uncomfortable silence fell over them.
"I didn't mean it like that," Judy apologized, her whispering less harsh as she looked at betrayed grimaces from either fox.
"He said it was a 'superstition', and by that clover on his lapel, I'd say it was one established by this 'House of Blessings' you bunnies are so fond of," Nick accused, shifting his weight back with a paw to his hip.
"Did this kind of thing actually happen?" Gideon asked, though not out of curiosity, as evidenced by his crossed arms, however interfered with by the tupperware.
"Now hold up, that was centuries ago-!" she tried.
"So it did happen!" the baker nearly yelled, turning and putting a palm to his forehead with a groan.
"You know what, I think I just figured out what 'ka-poof!' stands for," Nick growled, "A 'homophone for the acronym of the Correct And Proper Use Of-', and hold onto your hats for this one, 'Foxes'!"
Judy wavered, staring aghast at him, "What, no?" she begged, "That's not it!"
"I heard how Grav kept referring to Gideon & I like we were a useful thing to keep around," he continued, and his voice shifted from accusation to desperate anger, "but best be careful not to keep too many of us! Wouldn't want a family of foxes running about, ya'know. Is there anything else in the Hexward Tenets we should know about?"
"Just stop it!" she snapped, tears in her eyes, "I didn't write those antiquated beliefs, and I don't follow them! I don't know a single bunny in Bunnyburrow that does. But you want to talk about horrible superstitions? Larger mammals used to wear bunny feet as a good luck charm. The Hexward Tenets somehow put an end to that, by saying it luckier to have the rabbits still attached!
"Our histories are dark, Nick, darker than either of us know, but we can't hate each other because of it," she sobbed, "I didn't… I didn't know how much of it was still around, I hoped that love & trust won over the fear & hatred of the past. But I can't change others; all I can do is love and trust and hope that others follow me in doing so."
Nick breathed slowly, still holding that shred of disdain, but dropping it with a heavy sigh, "This is why I can't reason with the emotional, they always win.
"Look, I know you don't follow that balderdash, Carrots, and I don't blame you because of what happened to foxes in the past. But I need to know, what exactly are we getting into here? Are there foxes, right now, getting nailed to walls in the expectations that it'll keep away curses? I… I don't expect you to know the answer to that, but I need you to understand that this new information… it's terrifying, for a whole host of reasons that I'm sure you're already well aware of."
"Is Magnus going to come after us, now?" Gideon broke in, "That's what I wanna know about, because evil curses or not, he's very real, and doesn't seem the type to take it on the chin."
"Well," Judy sniffed, using her own sleeves and palms to clear her face, "I don't think he will. He's powerful, sure, but my Dad is considered the Hopps patriarch, and Mom's made it clear that you're both under their protection." She then managed a smirk, "Remember how you said 'you never know when a bunny's listening'? That can go for other bunnies, too."
"This is sounding more and more like rabbit nobility," Nick scoffed, but playfully, "So, I think we've spent enough time losing our heads over losing our heads. If everyone's head is securely fastened to their neck, let's not lose anymore time and head over the sheriff's."
"Before we do that," Judy said, "I want to test that whipped cream."
"What?" both foxes nearly cried out.
"I need to know what we're getting into," she determined, "All we have to go on is that it either is or isn't poisonous to foxes," gesturing to Nick and Gideon, respectively, "and it makes Bo regurgitate; which, considering his physiology is something of an anomaly, doesn't help us much," she then pulled out a spoon from the bundle wrapped in napkins she acquired from her mother, "I'm the best chance we've got to find out what it's supposed to do. If anything goes wrong, call an ambulance, and keep an eye on me back at the house until it arrives. From there, you can open an official investigation while I'm in the hospital, being treated by some of the brightest medical minds of the Tri-Burrows."
"You sure about this, Judy?" worried Gideon, but to her affirming grunt, he pulled out the keys to his van. He approached the back doors as if they led to the cage of a monster, and slid the key in to unlock the latch, hesitantly opening only the one side with the vat waiting within. The stouter fox continued, popping each fastener until the lid was removed, and exchanged one plastic container for another. He turned about, holding it before him, and peeled open the seal of the deathly white concoction.
"You don't have to do this," Nick said.
"Don't you trust me, Slick?" she answered, and scooped up half-a-dollop that her spoon could hold, to which she toasted her fox friends with a brave smile, "See you on the other side."
To be continued...
