I should probably mention that when I first started writing this, I said Kenten was a panther, like Danny, then a jaguar, then a leopard. That was my ADHD. Sorry about that. I fixed it. Anyway, Doug Kenten is a spotted leopard. I wanted to clear that up real quick.
Zootopia belongs to Disney. Spider-Man belongs to Sony.
They stepped out of his truck and Gazelle opened her gate. They walked through and approached her house.
"I'm telling you, gazelles are antelopes!" she laughed as they walked.
"I know that. But down in Texas, I was registered as a Rhim gazelle. I know it's just a subcategory of antelope, but still..."
"Texans must have a habit of splitting hairs."
"No, just me. I guess I've always felt protective of my species ever since... um..."
"What?" He stopped. She turned to him. "Something wrong?"
He stood nervously for a moment, keeping his eyes off of her. Slowly, he took his hat off and rubbed the top of his head. He'd been nervous to talk about this. He didn't know how she would feel about it when the subject came up. But if he was going to hope that they would enter a relationship together, he had to make sure she was worth pursuing. "I used to have horns."
"What happened to them? I thought... maybe you were born without them; I've met some gazelles like that."
He winced slightly, shaking his head. That wasn't it at all. He remembered having them. He remembered the feeling of the nerves feeding the bone and keratin extensions... tearing. He had been eleven years old at the time, and he was playing with a friend on a trampoline with which his parents had foolishly installed a safety net. And he had gotten them stuck in the net when he'd stumbled after a landing. One had been ripped out then and there, but the root of the other had been irreversibly damaged - cutting off the nerve and blood supply. His physician decided the remaining horn should be removed, since the other could not be reinserted. It had been the most painful time of his life, more than physically. It was hard to describe or explain to other species. Suffering from a disease that degenerated them, or losing them altogether especially, as he did, was like losing one's own sense of uniqueness or identity. To him, it was like losing the chance to find someone, raise a family... things were different down near the border. He envied species like deer, who shed their antlers every year only for them to grow back the next. His would never grow back.
Many bovid colonies were traditional that way, even up to this day, at least they did in the US. That was part of the reason he'd left home at sixteen and found a job in Zootopia, to escape the ostracism he felt, and to perhaps be able to escape the sense that losing his horns had defined him.
"Does that make any sense?" He put his hat back on.
She walked up to him and took it back off. She reached up, carefully laying her hoof upon his head. He looked away briefly and then closed his eyes. He felt her hoof lightly graze the stubby plateaus of tissue that remained where his horns used to be. She slowly stroked her thumb back and forth.
His hat was laid on his head again. He opened his eyes and looked at her, at the smile she wore. She put her arm around him and lay her head on his shoulder. "You're still beautiful," she said.
He exhaled sharply in relief. And they walked, arms around each other.
Once they reached her gate, he turned to her. She looked up at him with a shy smile, holding her hooves at her waist timidly.
"Did you have a good time?"
Her smile widened. "Tonight was wonderful! I can't wait to do it again sometime."
Wes suddenly found himself at a loss for words. He studied her face, his eyes eventually coming to her lips. He wanted so much to... but he was also terrified. If he did that, it was a hit or miss. And the possibility of a miss was a heavy bid. He decided to give it a little more time before trying for that. He wanted to see... where... her beliefs were.
"Well, I, um... I'll see ya later."
Her shoulders suddenly relaxed a little. Her smile dropped ever so slightly. But that near-imperceptible drop spoke volumes: she was disappointed. "Ok. Bye."
Suddenly caught in the middle between wanting to backpedal, and regret over his decision, he automatically turned and walked away. She watched him put his hooves in his pocket before she backed into her house with a silent sigh and closed the door.
It wasn't until he opened the door to his truck that it hit him.
Just as she glumly put a pot of water under the coffee maker, there was a rapid knocking at her door. Her smile returned as ran went to answer it. She unlocked and opened it, and there he was, guitar strapped around him, the brim of his fedora covering his face. He was leaning up against the sidewall. He lifted his head till his eyes appeared.
"Couldn't help but notice you were a little down, so I thought I'd give your heart a little medicine."
She laughed before straightening and waving him in. "Well, you've come just in time."
He stepped in and looked around. He found her dwelling... amazing. There were a few glittery decorations here and there, some pictures and posters. But what he found amazing was... her self-deprecation in her homemaking. Not a single poster of herself. And though it was obviously higher-class, there was little indication from her home that she was anything other than a normal, hard-working citizen.
"Wow. This..."
"It's a... little messy."
Huh. He hadn't noticed that. If her definition of messy was this, then she'd have a field day at his place!
"No, it's just, well, it's so... humble."
She chuckled and brushed her lock of blonde hair aside. "It was a lot less humble a while back. But a good friend of mine taught me that... looks aren't everything."
"Sounds like a pretty wise friend."
She nodded.
"Welp, what would you like me to play?" he asked as he sat down on her couch with a content sigh, beginning to play a series of chords. He was trying to be dramatically sexy, of course.
She shook her head. "Just play. Whatever comes to mind." She sat down next to him.
And what came to mind, he felt, may have seemed a bit... underpawed, or underhooved, in her case. He wanted to make absolutely sure she believed the same as himself. He saw, on a mantlepiece from across the room, a wooden cross. Encouraged, he strummed. He began to play one of his favorite songs. He closed his eyes, opening his mouth and singing softly.
"My soul finds rest in God alone, my Rock and my Salvation,
a fortress strong against my foes, and I will not be shaken.
Though lips may bless and hearts may curse, and lies like arrows pierce me,
I'll fix my heart on righteousness, I'll look to Him who hears me.
...
O praise Him, hallelujah, my delight and my reward,
everlasting, never failing, my Redeemer, my God.
...
Find rest, my soul, in God alone, amid the world's temptations,
when evil seeks to take a hold, I'll cling to my Salvation.
Though riches come and riches go, don't set your heart upon them.
The fields of hope in which I sow are harvests set in Heaven."
Gazelle's eyes widened as he started singing. Turns out she had been wondering the same thing, hoping the same. Her heart exploded in fire at the words he sang, the proof that this handsome, wise, articulate gazelle loved God just like she did. Quietly, she slid close to him and laid her cheek on his shoulder, causing him to stop playing and turn his head.
"Mm-mm. Keep going," she said, wrapping on arm around his bicep and caressing it gently with the other. She pecked a kiss on his cheek.
He smiled, his own heart lit up, and continued singing, now a little louder than before.
"Danny, hold on."
He kept moving toward his door briskly, not wanting to deal with it right now.
"Hey! Hold on!"
"Judy, I just don't wanna hear it right now, ok? I know, I know, I shouldn't have gone off like that. I just can't help it. It's the only thing that keeps-"
"Yeah, we know," said Nick, talking over his tirade.
"What?" he turned to them. He hadn't expected that. "You know? What do you mean, like, I'm not buried?"
"Grounded. No. Judy and I, we just want to talk about it. Come on, let's sit in the kitchen."
Huh. Their method of discipline was very weird. They had yet to discipline him for anything. If he wasn't so close to them, he would definitely be much more tempted to use that to his advantage. He ambled in the kitchen cautiously, pulling out a chair and lowering himself into it carefully. Nick sat with his paws clasped on the table and Judy sat with one paw under her chin, the other cradling her elbow.
"We talked to Chief Bogo on the way home," Nick began. "And... you know, none of us are too excited about you chasing criminals and taking down robbers."
"So I can't swing anymore?"
"I didn't say that. What I was going to say is, if you want to keep helping the police, you can." Danny perked up eagerly at hearing that. "But, we're going to have to lay a few ground rules."
"First," said Judy, "no chasing after anyone with guns. And no staying out after six pm. And after each job, you are to go straight back to the precinct and wait for us."
"And if we say no to you going somewhere to help, you stay right where you are; you don't move."
"And, Danny, we're serious here because this is dangerous. If you break any of those rules, then you are never doing it again, do you hear me?"
He nodded excitedly. He didn't care if there were rules; he wanted to do everything he could to kill the old, pissed-off panther he used to be. He hated him.
"Ok. Chief Bogo asked me when I was coming back, and I said tomorrow. So I need to get to bed." He got up and tiredly walked out of the kitchen toward the bedroom.
"You know, I think I'll go back and get some work done too." She stretched and grunted as her muscles extended. "I've been sitting on my butt for too long."
"You should stop giving me fuel at your expense, you know."
She scoffed. "Hon, I've been fuel for my husband's bad jokes since Jerry Jumbeaux's."
"Who?"
"Oh! I guess I never told you how we met?" He shook his head. "Ha, you're going to love this. Well..."
A little over 7 years ago
"...You mean that's it?!" she pointed at the small vehicle out in the parking lot.
"What?" Higgins had asked. The tiny bunny crossed her arms, glaring at the nonchalant hippo.
"So! There are other officers like me?"
"What, you think cops are da only guys who work traffic, rabbit?"
"Oh. Right. Ok then! I guess I'll get started!" She refused to be disappointed; they probably messed with rookies all the time. It was kind of a thing in law enforcement, especially when the rookie was easy prey, no pun intended.
"Psh. Whatever, bunny," her superior drawled. "You'll find yer stuff in that cabinet over there." He pointed at the small, white cabinet before turning and ambling back toward the bullpen.
She ran over to the cabinet. She had to open several drawers before she found one of - she counted - three traffic director jerseys that would fit her. There were three identical hats with them in the sealed plastic bags they were in. Three out of... she guessed several dozen. Three uniforms that had never been used... Wow, she had to punch down the sense that she was very small. Never was good for morale. Taking the uniform, she eagerly slipped it on and buttoned it, flipped the hat on her noggin, letting her ears hang over her neck, and nicked the keys from their hook. She ran outside and sat in the little toy car, adjusting the mirrors, and turning over the motor. Huh. It had a legitimate motor. She was expecting... the sound a squeak toy makes.
Welp, time to get started! She put the car in gear and depressed the accelerator with a grin. The car began to slowly roll forward. Come on, she thought, pushing the accelerator a couple times. Go. Why aren't you going? I have two hundred tickets to write... She inspected the vehicle, wondering what the problem was.
"Ah! That's it!" The car was in neutral. Heh, she wasn't used to this configuration. She put it in drive and immediately the car lurched forward, turning and nearly tipping over. She'd been flooring it the whole time! She stopped and got her bearings before grabbing her traffic marker to mark the cars that were at parking meters at the moment. Judy paid close attention, watching and listening to every sound around-
Ter-ter-terink!
Her ear immediately perked at the tone. She stopped and turned, smiling confidently at the expired meter. She promptly punched out a ticket on her counter and stuck it on the windshield.
Ha! One down, a hundred ninety-nine more to go! And it's only...
Ter-ter-terink!
Ticket number two!
Ter-ter-terink!
Ter-ter-terink!
Ter-ter-terink!
One after another, moving as quick as the wind (she was pretty sure she broke the sound barrier once or twice), she laid ticket after ticket on cars using expired meters. She didn't miss a single one, laying a ticket even on a car the size of her foot. The only vehicle that gave her trouble was a tacky van painted to look like a giraffe. But it wasn't the design that made things difficult, it was the sheer HEIGHT! Darn thing was probably thirty feet high! She felt sorry for the giraffe, he probably was never able to go under a bridge in that van. But she had a job to do.
Looking around, she figured out how to reach the windshield. She vaulted herself off of her car up toward the street sign, using it to propel herself toward the top of the van, holding the ticket like a basketball. She slammed dunked it right into the space between the wiper and the windshield and landed with a roll.
Present
"You really did that?!"
"Yeah!"
"Wow! I guess we're more alike than I thought!"
Judy laughed. "Anyway..."
A little over 7 years ago
Assuming there were no more interruptions...
Judy continued placing tickets faster than she could write them. She got better and better as time went on, even placing two tickets at a time mere seconds after both expired. Soon after, she checked the clock: two minutes to spare.
"Boom! Two hundred tickets before noon!" She heard the sound, and this time it was more demonic than the other two hundred times. Cringing, she looked at her own parking meter and typed out another ticket with a sigh. "Two-o-one," she recounted, keeping her optimism intact and slipping the ticket onto the windshield of her excuse-mobile. She had called it that at some point since it was a sorry excuse for a toy car. She felt proud of herself. This would show her chief that she was so much more than a meter maid.
Out of the blue sky, there was a loud horn nearby. Most mammals were at work now, so it was much quieter. She looked toward the source of the noise and saw a red blur quickly scamper across the path of a pink truck.
"Hey, watch where you're goin', fox!"
The fox spread his arms - What the heck?! - before sauntering onward.
Judy's nose twitched in trepidation. He was up to something, she could tell. The way his eyes deftly searched for anyone on his tail, she had to make sure...
She looked up at the sign. Jumbeaux's Cafe. She clandestinely looked through the window to see what he was doing. "Where'd he go?" He was nowhere to be seen. But she noticed... "They are shoveling ice cream with their trunks?! Gross!" She'd have to report them when she got the chance.
She went through the door and saw the fox at the front of the line.
A large, African elephant animal'd the counter. "Listen, I donno what yor doin', skulkin' around durin' daylight hours, but I don't want any trouble n'here." As he questioned the fox, Judy unclipped the holster to her can of Fox Away grade-A mace. "So, hit the road." She began to approach the probable perp.
"I'm not looking for any trouble either, sir," answered the fox in a pleasant voice. "I simply wanna buy a jumbo pop... for my little boy." At that moment, a tiny fox with white fur waddled into view from behind the leg of the elephant next in line. Judy paused as the baby, sucking noisily on a pacifier, turned toward her with large eyes with red irises and massive ears. He was very cute. He appeared to be wearing a gray one-piece with a hood of some kind. The fox knelt down to his son. "You want the red or the blue, Pal?" The boy hopped eagerly up to the glass and pointed at the massive frozen treat.
"Ugh..." Judy groaned under her breath, re-clipping the can. She pulled on her vest in shame. "I'm such a..."
"Oh, come on, kid, back up," said the elephant. "Listen, buddy."
"What?"
"There aren't any fox ice cream joints in your part of town?"
Judy's ears perked at that. That was strange. She'd almost forgotten that different species were generally more accustomed to different times, climates and biomes. Foxes were nocturnal.
"No, no. There are, there are. It's just, my boy," he ruffled the baby fox's head, who seemed to be enjoying himself despite the argument happening above him, "this goofy little stinker, he loves all things elephant, wants to be one when he grows up." As he said this, the baby pulled something over his head- oh it was an elephant costume! Trunk and everything! The baby lifted his arms like a presenter and blew a high squeak through the trunk, which melted Judy's heart so much, he was SO CUTE! "Isn't that adorable?"
"Oh!" Judy quietly exclaimed, laying a paw on her chest, partly in shame, partly out of a decision. He was getting that jumbo pop, darn it!
"Who the heck am I to crush his little dreams, huh? Right?"
"Eh, look you probably can't read, fox, but the sign says..." he slammed a standing sign closer to the edge of the counter to make his point "...We reserve the right to refuse service to anyone!" So beat it!"
The elephant behind the fox stepped up and nudged him with her leg. "You're holding up the line."
Sobs came from the baby, tooting through the trunk of the little costume.
"Hello? Excuse me."
"Hey, you're gonna have to wait your turn like everyone else, meter maid."
"Actually, I'm an officer." She moved the vest aside to show her badge. "Just had a quick question." She spoke louder so everyone could hear her: "Are your customers aware they're getting snot and mucus with their cookies and cream?" She heard a... nasty, wet trumpeting sound that told her the message had gotten across. The mean elephant's eyes turned away for a moment and came back to her.
"What're you talking about?" he asked nonchalantly, obviously alarmed. She stepped forward delicately. "Well, I don't wanna cause you any trouble, but I believe scooping ice cream with an ungloved trunk is a Class Three Health Code violation... which is kind of a big deal." She chuckled. "Of course, I could let you off with a warning if you were to glove those trunks and, I don't know, finish selling this nice dad and his son a..." She turned to him and whispered, "What was it?"
"A jumbo pop. Please."
"A jumbo pop."
Toot!
The irritated elephant sighed. "Fifteen dollars."
Nick thanked the elephant and Judy before reaching in his pocket. "Oh no, are you kidding me? I don't have my wallet." He chuckled sheepishly. "I'd lose my head if it weren't attached to my neck." He turned to his son to apologize to him. He kissed his forehead and began to pull his outside, while his son kept looking at the pop and reaching longingly for it.
"Keep the change," said Judy, slapping a twenty on the counter.
The elephant rolled his eyes, grabbing a massive pop out of the freezer. "There," he said shortly. "Next in line!"
"Hold on! Here you go!" she said to them. The baby fox jumped in excitement and bounded to Judy, hugging her leg. "Aw," you're welcome!" She patted his shoulder. The red fox looked and saw the bunny carrying the popsicle, which was surprisingly - almost supernaturally - light. He walked toward her and she offered the pop to him, which he took quickly.
"Officer, I can't thank you enough. So kind, really." Judy walked with them, holding the kit's paw. "Can I pay you back?"
"Oh, no, my treat. It just... you know, it burns me up to see folks with such backward attitudes toward foxes. I just wanna say you're a great dad and a real articulate fella."
"Oh! Well now, that is high praise. It's rare that I find someone so nonpatronizing." It would not be until hours later that she would realize how sarcastic he was in that statement.
Four in the afternoon, it was getting close to the end of her shift. She wiped her forehead after planting the two hundred and sixty-second ticket on a car. It was much slower at this time since many cars weren't staying as long and mammals were coming and going much more quickly.
She spotted out of the corner of her eye...
"Hey, Little Toot... Toot."
What was she looking at here? She saw pink juice... draining out of a gutter? Into a large jar. Two other jars sat to the side. On the top of the building was the red fox, tapping the large popsicle stick to get the remaining ice off. He dropped the stick over the side and slid down the gutter onto the sidewalk to pick up the jars and carry them into the back of a... hideous van. They took off...
...WITH THE BABY DRIVING? WHAT IS GOING ON HERE?!
She tailed the two foxes to Tundratown, where they stopped for a moment to... buy something else, apparently. They came to a small, flat area in a park where they were... well, the kid was making footprints in the snow and the dad was pouring the juice into the indents. They waited for a tedious period of about half an hour before picking them all up and laying them in a cooler.
She followed them back into Savannah Central and watched from a balcony above them as they set up a small stand with dozens of paw-shaped "Pawpsicles," as the sign referred to them. The baby, for some reason... hid in a... recycling bin? Why? Immediately, a clock rang five pm sharp, and a line of lemmings came single file out of an eponymous bank.
The fox called out to them. "Pawpsicles! Get your pawpsicles!" One of the lemmings in line noticed and veered from the single file toward the fox, where they - in conveyor-belt fashion - each bought a popsicle and rapidly ate them, tossing them into a conveniently-placed recycling bin with three compartments. Of course. The kit kicked a door open from inside and rolled three bins of popsicle sticks, which they stuck in the back of the ugly van.
She tailed them and watched from the grass as the fox falsely sold "lumber" to a construction contractor.
"Lumber delivery!"
"What's with the colah?"
"Uhhhh, that's redwood."
Judy growled in fury at the numerous crimes she had witnessed. She paid twenty hard-earned dollars for this confox? She was going to have a word with the scoundrel!
She was horrified to hear the "baby" fox open his mouth for the first time that day and speak in a deep base.
"You kiss me tomorrow, I'll bite yo face off! Ciao." He began playing foreign rap music in the van before driving off, leaving the fox to see the bunny from behind the vehicle.
"Well. I stood up for you, and you lied to me. You liar!"
The fox stuck his hip out slightly in a masculine stance of superiority, holding out his finished popsicle stick: "It's called a hustle, sweetheart. And I'm not the liar. He is." She looked where he pointed. No one. She turned back to- no one. She looked right and saw a bushy, red tail disappear around the corner of a building.
"Hey!" She caught up with him as he sauntered easily down the sidewalk, somehow avoiding all the animals coming his way. "All right, Slick Nick, you're under arrest."
"Really? For what?"
"Oh, gee, I dunno, selling food without a permit, transferring undeclared commerce across burrow lines, false advertising..."
He pulled a pair of sheets out of his pocket, one laminated. "Permit. Receipt of declared commerce. And I didn't falsely advertise anything. Take care."
"You told that mouse the popsicle sticks were redwood!" She pointed an accusing finger at him.
"Thats right. Red. Wood. With a space in the middle. Wood that is red." He placed the popsicle in her pointing fist before strolling across a crosswalk. "You can't touch me, Carrots, I've been doing this since I was born."
She thought of some other accusation as she answered him. "You're gonna want to refrain from calling me Carrots."
"My bad, I just assumed you came from some little carrot-choked podunk, no?" She wondered how he was staying out of the way of all the mammals while she had to dodge between their legs! Oh yeah, that's right... avoid the fox... he was probably a pickpocket. Wait, no, there was a porcupine in front of them. Anyway...
"Uh, no! Podunk is in Deerbrooke county, and I grew up in Bunnyburrow."
"Ok. Tell me if this story sounds familiar." He grabbed a pawful of blueberries from a vendor and popped one in his maw before dropping the rest in the breast pocket of his faded Pawaiian shirt. He gestured with a degree of charisma as he played out this scenario for the rabbit. "Naive little hick with good grades and big ideas decides, 'Hey, look at me, I'm gonna move to Zootopia where predators and prey live in harmony and sing Kumbaya,' only to find - whoopsie! We don't all get along. And that dream of becoming a big city cop? Double whoopsie! She's a meter maid. And whoopsie number threesie: no one cares about her or her dreams. And soon enough those dreams die, and our bunny sinks into emotional and literal squalor, living in a box under a bridge until she has no choice but to go back home with that cute fuzzy-wuzzy little tail between her legs to become... you're from Bunnyburrow, is that what you said?" he asked as he removed a couple of planks from a fence in an alleyway. He leaned toward her slightly before stepping through the gap: "So how about a carrot farmer?" He shrugged. "Sound about right?"
No, it doesn't! she thought, stepping through the gap to begin unloading her mind on him. A large foot smacked the ground in front of her, causing her to jump back and evade. Elephants needed to watch it!
"Careful now, or it won't just be your dreams gettin' crushed!" mocked the fox.
"Hey! Hey!" She chased after him and got in front of him, walking backward. "Nobody tells me what I can or can't be. Especially not some jerk who's never had the guts to try to be anything more than a popsicle hustler!" She stopped walking when he did.
"All right, look." He leaned down to her as if she were a little girl. "Everyone comes to Zootopia thinking they can be anything they want. Well, ya can't. You can only be what you are." He pointed to himself - "Sly fox" - then to her - "Dumb bunny."
"I'm not a dumb bunny," she insisted, trying to keep her faltering confidence from yielding - is he getting taller?!
"Right. And that's not wet cement." She looked down and realized to her dismay that she indeed had sunk into wet cement. She tried lifting herself out, but couldn't get her feet unstuck. "You'll never be a real cop. You're a cute meter maid, though. Maybe a supervisor one day. Hang in there." He waved before disappearing around the corner, leaving Judy to face what was very likely a vicious wake-up call.
After the beavers angrily lifted her out of the cement, she walked back toward her tiny car, hoping it was still there. She had to scrape her feet on curbs every few minutes to remove the drying cement. Her feet were already feeling dry and cracked from the moisture-sucking rocky substance. She found her excuse-mobile and drove it back to the precinct, where she walked back inside. A couple officers walked by her, nearly stepping on her.
"Hey!"
They turned toward her. She lifted her arms in a "Hello, I'm right here!" gesture. They just turned and walked on. She sighed, resisting the urge to cry. She made the arduous trip to the train station, made the trip to her apartment, and trudged up the stairs. Having to carry that cement and break it off over time had drained her further, and had further wilted her confidence. After a depressing attempt at finding a cheerful soundtrack on her alarm clock radio, a video call with her ever-unhelpful parents, and a shouting match between the vapid college roommates next door, she went to bed, clinging hard onto her hope that somehow things would work out.
Present
"And they did," she said, finishing. "Not quite the way I had in mind, but it all worked out."
"Sounds like it was a hard way to begin your career."
"Yeah, but I knew what I wanted and I went for it. But... I never would have gotten through without Nick. He went through so much for me, stood up for me when no one else did."
She smiled at the memory. "...no wonder she needed help from a fox. None of you guys were gonna help her..." This fox had made many mistakes, even after they were married. But she would never stop loving him.
"Well, I'm going to bed. Nick and I are starting work again tomorrow so we need to be well-rested. Good night, Honey."
"Night, M- Judy."
She paused briefly before continuing. Almost there.
"Wes?" she said groggily when she felt him get up from the couch.
"I gotta get to work," he whispered. She grabbed his paw. He turned back around.
"Will you come back after work?"
He smiled. "You know I will." He put his hat on, picked up his guitar, and headed toward the door.
Immediately, she got up and quickly walked up to him. She turned him around and lay her paws on either side of his chest, looking into his eyes with a slight smile. She slid her hooves up and set her arms around his neck, drawing him closer. She could hear his heart thundering. He exhaled sharply. She saw in his eyes all self-restraint vanish. He set the guitar down and leaned down, pressing his lips to hers, all doubts now burned away by the fire blazing in his chest, exploding through every part of his body. He caressed his paws gently around her back, pulling her close. He cradled her with one arm and cupped the back of her head with his paw.
Their lips smacked apart, and they pressed their foreheads together. She grinned and laughed joyfully. Weston followed suit. He kissed her again before whispering, "I'll be back as soon as possible." He stroked her muzzle with his thumb before picking up his guitar and heading out the door reluctantly. Oh, if only he could take the week off right then and there. Or the month. Then he'd be one happy sunuvabovid. But he still had a job to do, even though most of Zootopia was off for the rest of the week. Grr!
Oh, I loved writing this chapter.
I meant to further the actual plot in this chapter, but I couldn't stop writing about Judy's memories. I'll try to get that done next chapter. In the meantime, hope you all enjoyed this one.
Periosteum is a connective tissue that covers your bones and supplies your bones with nutrients.
Psalm 62 by Aaron Keyes.
