The days that followed were filled with so many highs and lows that Judy had trouble keeping track. Nick had stayed with her for the weekend while she got used to the splint, followed by another day, and another, until now they had both accepted that he would be spending his nights at the hotel with her until the splint came off. Their time together was both wonderful and fraught with tension as they tried to figure out how to make everything work. Some generic questions to the Lifeline forum and the fact that they were roughly the same size made things a little easier—anything designed for one of them could generally be used by the other with minimal difficulty—but although neither of them had broached the topic directly the problem of physical compatibility lingered.

Thus far they remained content to take things very slowly, occasionally sneaking kisses or nuzzles during private moments. They'd only made out one other time after that first night, but even so they spent much of their private time comfortably cuddled together. It was a chance to test their boundaries, and to learn how each other's bodies responded to even the most basic stimulation. There were a few mistakes, such as when Nick discovered that she couldn't stand to have her ears licked even if careful nibbles were fine in moderation. Tiny steps that felt like they weren't actually going anywhere even though she treasured every moment.

Then there were the looks they both began to receive. Although nobody actually said anything Judy was sure the rumor mill had already spread the news to every officer on the force. Sometimes she caught one or two of them watching her, but they always quickly looked away upon realizing that she'd noticed their interest. Some part of her wished that they would actually come up to say something so she would at least know what they were thinking, but at the same time the possibility terrified her. The ZPD had become a second family to her in a way, and the thought that she might lose it was almost too much.

At least she knew everyone at the precinct. The looks she got while in uniform headed to and from the station made her more uncomfortable still. Even if she hadn't been the only bunny on the force the splint clearly marked who she was, as did the fact that Nick was always with her during those times. Again, nobody said anything while she was in earshot. That didn't stop her from feeling their judgment, and to her surprise she found that she was actually glad to be restricted to desk work so she didn't have to deal with that all day.

Nick did. He tried to convince her that he didn't really mind, that it wasn't too different from how mammals normally treated him for being a fox, but even so she could tell from the way he came back from patrol exhausted every day that it was slowly getting to him.

And there were her parents. Apparently her father had hit his head on the coffee table, earning himself a split scalp and a concussion, but the doctors were confident he would be fine if he took it easy for a week or two. All of this was communicated to Judy through texts; her parents hadn't yet called her back. That was good in a way, she wasn't sure she was prepared to face that minefield again, but it did make her worry about what her parents actually thought. They rarely let her go three days without checking up on her, and now that it was Thursday they were already pushing past five.

All of that had been mitigated by several breaks that had happened, giving her an opportunity to jump out of doing simple paperwork and begin reviewing the stinger operation with Lieutenant Uncia. Miss Zhu had unexpectedly found her one afternoon and explained that Nick had apparently brought her some sample he wanted compared against the drugs the wildebeest had taken and all the food samples the ZPD had collected following the crisis. Results were still preliminary, but according to Miss Zhu all three appeared to be a perfect match. They were being sent to a facility with better instruments for verification, but it implied that Flip was deeply involved in the rash of savage mammals if not the actual mastermind behind it.

A disaster. If the results were correct then it meant the antidote wouldn't work on the afflicted mammals. Judy hadn't heard if the doctors had tried the antidote yet—in the face of the sudden influx of savage mammal cases the city had announced that it would take time to produce enough to treat every case—but she didn't need Nick around to know what he thought was going on. They were covering it up to prevent further panic.

So for the past several days she'd been busy the entire case history along with any police report that seemed to involve the mammals they had seen associating with Flip thus far. That was proving to be quite the challenge since, to all appearances, those mammals had completely vanished. Initially they'd thought they had all gone into hiding following the attack, but the officers they'd sent asking came back with reports of worried family members who were wondering why their loved ones were missing.

Even more confusing to Judy, Flip had a large number of prey mammals working for him. Normally that wouldn't be a surprise as Zootopia was 90% prey and she knew criminal demographics were roughly similar, but in this case they were involved in a plot that seemed specifically designed to target prey mammals. Why would they agree to something like that? There were only two possibilities she could see: either Flip was offering them something they couldn't refuse, or they hadn't actually been in on the plot themselves. In either case, she found it hard to believe that they hadn't been able to locate a single one of Flip's helpers. There was always someone who was willing to talk, so why couldn't they find anyone here?

That was exactly the problem she was gnawing on when her focus blurred for a moment, signaling that it was time to take a break. She slinked out of the room that she'd claimed to help shut out distractions and made the decision to go for a quick jog on one of the treadmills in the precinct's gym. With her arm still injured she didn't push herself nearly as hard as she normally would, jostling her splint seemed like a good way to hurt herself, but stretching her legs felt simply wonderful. Afterward she got a quick drink of water and was just about to get back to work when a familiar voice caught her ear.

"Listen, I'm not saying that we should round up all mammals of a certain type and cram them into some sort of camp. That would be absurd. I'm just saying there is a lot of tension in the city right now, especially when this recent terrorist attack was obviously targeting prey mammals. The natural way to ease those tensions is to institute a limited system of segregation to keep predator and prey mammals from coming into contact as often as they do now. This would deescalate the current situation by making mammals feel safe while ensuring that misunderstandings don't happen until we know more."

The fur on Judy's neck tingled and she turned to find herself looking at Norman on one of the department's TV's. Somehow he'd made it onto the midday talk show circuit. According to the helpful banner along the bottom of the screen he'd also recently founded a prey activist group, the Safety Coalition of Prey Mammals, which believed the recent attacks had been carried out by disgruntled predators. From the sound of it their "solution" was to restrict predators to certain parts of the city, as if that sort of thing was likely to just calm everyone back down.

She stared at the screen as Norman argued that in light of the two Nighthowler crises this was simply the most logical thing to do in order to protect everyone. Across from him, a hyena in semi-formal dress (apparently a representative of the city) tried to explain every reason that such a plan was doomed to fail only to have Norman dismiss each as a trivial concern that could be tackled when the time came.

From the looks of things, Norman had done some homework to prepare for the show. He had a number of lines and facts at the ready, and came off as your typical concerned citizen pushing for reforms to improve the city. At times he even seemed outright charming. If Judy hadn't known better, hadn't already seen how well he was able to cover up is fear of predators, she probably wouldn't have even noticed the way he did his best to avoid looking at the other guest. Nor how there was a shadow of discomfort just behind his eyes when he did face the hyena.

At least the audience didn't seem to be entirely convinced, though he did get more applause and cheers of support than she would've liked at some points. Seeing him again, even on a TV screen, made her almost immediately uncomfortable. It was hard to believe that she hadn't realized what he was like more quickly.

Just when she was about to retreat and try to forget that she'd ever met him the host decided to allow the different speakers to field questions from the audience at home. She had nearly made it back to the room she was working from when another voice she'd recognized came over the speakers.

"Good afternoon. This is my first time calling, but I couldn't resist asking mister hippity-hop there a couple of questions. First thing's first though: I've planted a bomb in the studio and if the broadcast ends I intend to detonate it."

A shiver ran down Judy's spine as she heard Flip's voice. Without a thought she ran upstairs to get Bogo.

There was a pregnant pause as the mammals in the studio processed what had just been said until Peter Moosebridge spoke up. "Do you think that's some sort of—"

"—joke?" the caller finished. "Not at all, but if I am reading your company policy correctly it requires that all ZNN employees take any threat seriously. If you doubt what I'm capable of just call up the cops. Tell them Flip is threatening to blow you up and just see how they take it after that warehouse I demolished."

Another pause, this time while Peter walked off-screen. When he came back a minute later he appeared visibly shaken and sat in the large comfy chair he'd been mediating the discussion from. He folded his hands and took a deep breath before looking back at the camera.

"Alright, tell me your demands."

"Demands? We're just having a friendly conversation here," the caller said. "You wouldn't believe how hard I've worked to get everyone's attention. Lining up supporters, starting up a nice smuggling ring, dousing the city with Nighthowlers—"

"What do you want?" Mr. Moosebridge said, raising his voice slightly.

"What I want is to talk to Mr. Bunny-bottom there," the caller said with a laugh. "See, I've been listening to him since the start of your program and I must say he has some very interesting ideas. I rather agree with him."

Norman blinked as he was brought up, remaining very still in his seat. "You do?"

"Indeed. I think you're right, keeping prey and predators in such close proximity is a bad idea." A low growl registered over the line. "So get out of my fucking city."

"Excuse me?" Norman asked, shaking his head in disbelief. "Your city? Who the heck do you think you are? Do you have any idea how insane that is? Prey make up nine-tenths of the population! Without us Zootopia would collapse. If anything it belongs to—"

He was cut-off by a shout. "Zootopia was founded by a bear. Predators may only make up ten percent of the population, but we do all the important jobs. Police? Forty percent predator. Fire department? Thirty percent. Military? Sixty."

"It's well known that certain species seem to prefer certain occupations," Peter Moosebridge said, trying to get the exchange back under control.

"Yeah, because I'm sure no tiger grew up hearing that with how big and strong they were going to be that they should join the military." The growling on the other end of the line continued unabated. "Predators disproportionately put themselves at risk to make this city work. Predators tolerate laws that target them specifically so that you prey can stay safe, as if my teeth are less dangerous than your horns. Predators even gave up on eating any type of meat other than fish and poultry for your benefit alone. Tell me, what have you sacrificed?"

Another uncomfortable pause loomed. Norman looked at Mr. Moosebridge silently, while off to the side the city's representative was talking on the phone in a hushed tone. At last, Norman gathered enough courage to speak.

"We clearly don't have anything to talk about. Everyone can tell you're some sort of insane racist, not to mention a criminal if even a fraction of what you said is true," the bunny said. "Nobody's going to listen to someone like you."

"You're covered in fur too, bunny-boy," the caller said, sounding momentarily amused. "Yes, I'm a lowlife. I'll bet I'm near the bottom of the barrel that this city has. Even the mob won't deal with me anymore, but as you can see I'm still alive. Would you like to know why? It's because I like to notice things. I've gotten very good at it. Would you like to know a few of the things I've noticed?

"I noticed that while Bellwether was mayor, the approval for the policies she wanted to enact hovered around eighty-seven percent. Not once did I hear any prey mammal question what was happening when predators started being reassigned to worse jobs, assuming they weren't simply fired due to 'safety concerns.' Of course, once everyone realized what a psycho that little sheep was you couldn't find anyone who would admit to supporting her. I wonder where all those mammals went when her plot was revealed. You know, the ones that blindly believed the first explanation the media rubbed in their noses? Pretty sure none of them were preds."

Norman's eyes bulged. "It was the only explanation we were given, and with what we knew it seemed like the only way to keep safe!"

"Because you looked so very hard for alternative solutions, didn't you? Did you know that Nighthowlers are commonly used in agriculture, and their effects are not entirely unknown? You would have me believe that nobody thought to point out the similarities?" the voice continued mercilessly. "Never mind that when predators started going savage the first reaction by all you scampering little prey was to throw us in cages. Maybe you'd think there would be a different response when the prey are the ones going savage, but if you honestly believe that you aren't paying attention. Still want us in cages, don't you hippity-hop?"

"We aren't the ones doing anything wrong!" Norman shouted.

"Ah, but the predators that went savage were?"

The bunny began to sputter. "I never said that."

"Of course not, but it was implied," the caller continued. "Oh, and please continue to forget that your innocent, savage prey killed far more mammals in one day than the savage predators did over three months."

"You can hardly compare having to handle one savage mammal every couple of days to a few hundred all at once," Peter Moosebridge said. "You are trying to start a fight where there doesn't have to be one."

The caller snorted. "Maybe you're right. Let's compare one of mine to Bellwether's best then. I had a rhino trying to batter her way into Little Rodentia. The ZPD stopped her, but her attempts knocked enough rubble loose to kill four mice and injure about a dozen others. Imagine how many mice she would've flattened if the wall had given way. I believe the worst savage predator killed two, injured five others?"

"They were just mice, you bastard!"

The caller stopped for a moment, letting Norman's comment hang in the air. "Well they are quite small, yes. Tell me, long ears, how many mouse lives are worth one bunny's?"

Norman sputtered. "I didn't mean it that way."

"Of course not. Not when everyone is listening," the caller laughed viciously. "You know something else I just noticed? You little bouncing bozos seem awful quick to get in front of the cameras and call for inter-species conflict. You don't like predators, mice aren't worth worrying about, and I'll just bet you think elephants and rhinos eat more than their fair share."

"That is quite enough," Peter Moosebridge said, shouting the caller to silence before turning to Norman. "Shut your mouth if you know what is good for you!"

Norman glared at Mr. Moosebridge. "You expect me to just listen to this monster?"

The growling returned, rumbling low and steady. "Please don't compare me to that pathetic ball of fluff. I'm not like her at all. At least I admit what I am instead of hiding between a squeaky-clean public image, and I don't need the city's resources backing me up. I'm nothing like Bellwether at all. I'm much better."

"Stop egging him on," Peter Moosebridge said, glaring at Norman. "In fact, get off the stage before you make things worse. I'll be the one doing the talking now."

"Come on, it isn't any fun if you don't let him learn for himself," the caller complained. "Oh well, I guess I've had my fun, but one more thing before I go:

"The government's story about there not being enough antidote to go around? All lies. Don't expect your precious cure to work this time around. Leave or stay, do whatever you want. I'm perfectly willing to use force to kick you prey out even if I have to turn every mammal living here savage to make it happen. My city or no city. Take your pick."

"He's bluffing," Uncia said as she watched the havoc that ensued once Flip had hung up the phone. "He has to be bluffing. There is no way he has enough Nighthowler toxin to bring down the city."

Bogo scowled at her. "Are you sure? Because given what he pulled off last Friday I would be reluctant to make that bet. What do you think Hopps? You've seen this maniac before, do you think he's capable of pulling this off?"

Judy swallowed hard, fighting a nervous tremble. Why did Norman have to go make an ass of himself in front of the whole city? Why did he have to make all bunnies look bad while he was doing it? For a moment she wondered if what she was feeling was anything like what Nick had gone through while watching her press conference, but no. That was impossible. For him it had to have been worse. She could barely stand to look at Norman, but Nick had trusted her.

Please don't let anyone find out that I dated him, she prayed. I don't need that in my life. Not now.

"Hopps? Are you paying attention?"

"Y-yes sir," she said, shocked from her thoughts by Bogo's gruff snort. "That's really a question you should ask Nick, sir."

"Well Nick isn't here, Hopps, so I'm asking you."

She hesitated. "I don't think he can do what he claims, sir…but I think he'll try anyway. Nick mentioned to me that Flip was spouting some sort of anti-prey rhetoric. I just brushed it off as nonsense at the time, but considering everything that's happened since then…"

The Chief sighed, then turned to Uncia. "I read in your reports that Nick recommended an arrest, but you refused."

"That is right sir," Uncia said, her white-spotted tail flicking anxiously behind her. "At the time we were still trying to make a bust, it seemed a waste to arrest what looked like some middle tier thug without justification. Once we linked him to Nighthowlers I gave the okay, but by then…"

"By then my city was bleeding," Bogo finished for her, heaving another sigh. "Learning experiences all around I suppose. Uncia? I want that fox. I want him now. I don't care how you get him, but I want him in a cell downstairs pronto."

"Yes sir."

"Judy, I'm going to call Nick back to the station," Bogo said. "I want you to go over everything we know about Flip right now, see if that shakes anything loose from Nick's memory. Make that your number one priority, understand?"

She nodded. "Yes sir, I'll get everything together now so it's ready to go when he gets back."

"Good. Now get out. After that little show I need to call a press conference."