Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.
The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction
Part One:
Fuel
Chapter 13 –Facts are Stubborn Things
(Concluded…Part 7)
Conclusion of the Fire Triangle, Part One
Nick and Judy were not fooled.
Their last day together began like any regular morning—and it lulled neither one of them into a false sense of security; by now, they knew better.
To be fair, the day did make its best effort to hustle them. When Judy checked her phone, she found exactly zero messages waiting, and when Nick booted up his laptop…well yes, there were a few new emails, but nearly all of them were SPAM, and none of them contained the dreaded bywords, 'Pred and Prey—Keep Away!'
(True, the fox and bunny had changed their phone numbers and email addys, but still…)
Everything about that morning felt just a little too ordinary; even the weather seemed to be conspiring to deceive them—pleasantly balmy with only a few horsetail clouds tracing across the sky.
Within the first few minutes of browsing the web, Nick discovered that his caution was well warranted, at least where the weather was concerned. It might be sunny now but according to The Weather Camel webpage, some serious thunderstorms were slated to move into the greater Zootopia metro area, sometime later that day.
Like many foxes, Nick Wilde was a bit of a superstitious beast and he took that forecast as an omen.
That, in fact, was a character trait he shared with his partner, although in Judy's case, it stemmed more from her background than her species. As the red fox himself had once correctly pointed out, there's hardly a more capricious occupation than farming; a bountiful harvest one year and a devastating crop failure the next—with no logical explanation for either occurrence. In that light, it was hardly surprising that the doe-bunny had a least passing belief in signs and portents.
For her, the morning held no outward heralds of trouble, only a vague foreboding that was actually rooted in fact, rather than fancy. Last night had been the evening she'd been dreading all week; the night Rock Hardesty's cable program had aired, when he was supposed to have broadcast the skytram video of her and Nick.
Judy hadn't been able to bring herself to watch it, (neither had her partner,) but she knew that it must have shown. Hardesty had been dropping hints about 'something juicy' for the past three days now; no way would that hyrax make such a scintillating tease and then not deliver on it.
Still…she had to know for certain—and she wanted to know right now—but who could she ask? Not Nick…obviously, but who else? Erin? Nope, not this early; if she rang her sister now, the chances were better than even that the call would arrive in the presence of their parents. All right, who did that leave? Wait…of course, why hadn't she thought of him in the first place?
She quickly dialed the number; if he picked up, great. If it was someone else, she'd say, "Sorry, wrong number." and get out quick.
The call connected on the second ring.
"ZPD...please listen as our menu options have changed…"
Judy sighed and pressed '0' to bypass the usual litany. In response, another recorded voice came on the line, "Your call may be monitored, for quality assurance purposes," and then a burring noise followed. A half-second later a cheerful, velvety voice came on the line.
"Good morning, ZPD; what is the nature of your call?"
That was good for a bigger sigh. It was him.
"Benjamin, this is Judy Hopps."
"Judy! Well, this is a surprise; what's up?" He sounded just as bubbly as ever, as if nothing untoward had happened...either last night or several nights previously. With anyone else, that would have been a hopeful sign. In this case, it was just Clawhauser being Clawhauser.
"I was just wondering," the doe-bunny ventured, feeling her way around the words, "Did you…um, by any chance…catch the Rock Hardesty show last night?" She knew he hadn't, he never watched it…but he'd know if anyone else had.
As always, he didn't disappoint her.
"N-n-nooo, I didn't see it myself—but I heard about it; lots of other officers saw it." All the liveliness abruptly drained from his voice. "A-And yeah, he showed another video of you and Nick." He had seen the question coming, and that could only mean the skytram vid was Precinct 1's favorite topic of discussion on this bright and sunny morning.
Judy's eyes pulled shut and she felt the edges of her mouth compressing and hardening. Even though this was hardly surprising news, the impact felt like a stab with a rusty spike. She didn't need to ask about the prevailing attitude regarding the video—that one was an easy guess—but Clawhauser, garrulous as ever, told her anyway.
…Although not with any measure of enthusiasm.
"They're…not happy about it, Judy. That's all I'll say. Two of them even went in to talk to the Chief about it. I, uh, don't know what they said...and please don't ask me who they were." He was almost mewling.
That was good, because Judy didn't want to know either of those things—although she dearly hoped the discussion hadn't been something on the order of, 'they go, or we go.' Stifling another wince, she hurriedly changed the subject.
"Anything else going on?" It was weak, but all she could come up with on such short notice.
To her considerable surprise…yes, there was.
"Oh yeah, you remember those gerbils from the other night?"
"Uh, yes?" the doe-bunny responded warily. Of course she did, how could she ever forget? Even so, she was surprised that their names had come up again…at least so soon. "What about them?" she asked.
Clawhauser's face opened in a grin—but only halfway. And his eyes looked more confused than amused.
"You know that place where the old Ficus Gap Road tollbooths used to be?"
"I do," Judy felt her nose starting to twitch. She and Nick had once helped break up a gang-fight in that spot. Only, what did that have to do with…?
Before her mind could complete the question Clawhauser answered it for her.
"McHorn found their drone down there early this morning…abandoned. They just went off and left it, can you believe that?"
"What the…?" The doe bunny's ears were at full attention and her mind was a whirlwind of questions. "Wha-Why? Are we sure it's theirs?"
"Yep," the corpulent cheetah said, responding to the second question first. "McHorn thought it looked familiar, so he asked Kii Catano to come take a look. She confirmed; it's theirs all right."
"Mmmm, okay," Judy mulled that over for a second and then asked. "What happened, did it crash on them or something?" That was the only thing she could think of that would prompt the Maschay brothers to just up and leave their machine to the elements. And nooo, she wasn't HOPING that those gerbil- jerks had cracked up their drone. No, of course not!
Wel-l-l-ll, maybe just a little…
"Nope," Clawhauser answered airily, " not a thing wrong with it as far as we could tell," And then he looked from left to right and leaned in close to the phone, lowering his voice as if about to reveal some deep, dark secret. "But here's the really crazy part. When we called them to come get it, they told us 'keep it, we don't WANT it.'"
Just when Judy had thought her ears couldn't possibly stand up any higher… And now her nose was twitching again too.
"What? That's crazy!"
"I know, right?" Clawhauser looked thoroughly pleased with himself. "Anyway, we're holding it in the impound yard until they change their minds." His tone of voice seemed to suggest that this was the inevitable outcome. Judy, for her part, wasn't so sure, (although, for the life of her, she couldn't have said why.)
"Did they give any reason for leaving it?"
At once the look of self-satisfaction melted from the plus-size cheetah's face. "Ahhh, I don't know, to be honest," he shrugged, prompting a smile from Judy. If there was anything Benjamin Clawhauser couldn't stand, it was being left off the ZPD grapevine.
Okay, it was time to wrap this up.
"All right I won't keep you Benjamin, thanks for the information, oh…." She had been about to say goodbye when something else had occurred to her. "Can you call Nick and tell him too…about Hardesty I mean." Clawhauser was a good cat—but that would be the one thing he'd forget to relate if Judy didn't remind him. "I'd call him myself but…well, you know…"
Benjamin did know, and he nodded sagely, "Yes, of course, I'll take care of it as soon as…" She heard a noise in the background and his expression swiftly changed. "Oops, looks like it'll have to wait a while; Chief's buzzing for me. Bye Judy."
"Bye Benjamin…and thanks," she said, not knowing if he'd heard her, but completely understanding his abrupt departure. She sighed and looked at the time. 9:47, still way too early to talk to Erin.
Erin…Judy closed her eyes and drew in a rough breath. The day of her younger sister's ZAPA audition was getting closer, and it was going to put the 'awk' in awkward. Mom and Dad would be there, along with at least a few other members of the Hopps family—and it was going to be a tense encounter at best between them and their daughter, Judith.
She half groaned/half sighed again, this time shaking her head. The prudent course of action, needless to say, would be for her to send her regrets. Why go looking for more trouble, when she already had enough to last out the year? Maybe so, but sensible course or no, bowing out of her sister's performance was not an option for Judy Hopps; Erin wanted her there, she had the time, a promise is a promise, and that was that. She was going…period, end of story.
Setting the phone on the bedside table, she dropped to the floor and gave herself twenty. It was anything but satisfying, but it helped to pass the time.
She had switched over to sit ups and was on her third rep when Clawhauser finally finished up with the Chief.
His call came as a godsend to Nick Wilde. Not because it contained any desperately needed information, but because right now Nick needed a distraction the way a fox lost in the desert needs an oasis.
Ever since his (and Judy's) last conference with Bogo, he had been living in a self-imposed semi-lockdown, departing his flat only for supply runs and even then keeping them as brief as possible. Surprisingly, he had yet to hear back from his upstairs neighbor about the door. He didn't know why and frankly didn't care. As long as Dex Whistler stayed out of his face, that was good enough for Nicholas Piberius Wilde.
When he hung up the phone after speaking with Clawhauser his feelings were a mixed bag; so Hardesty was back on his and Judy's case again, no surprise there. Even so, it was disconcerting. At the very least their enforced leave was going to be extended for another two weeks, more likely for the rest of the month. He sighed and reached up with a foot to scratch behind an ear. At least the news hadn't sent him on another guilt-trip, thank goodness for that, (But then he'd burned out on beating himself up several days ago.)
That business with the gerbils though…
Nick was not a vengeful fox, but at the same time, he was not above indulging in a little schadenfreude; the joy that comes from watching an enemy bite the big one. Right now, he fervently hoped those rodent-jerks would never see their drone again—or, barring that, have to fork over an arm, leg and tail to get it back. Either way it was the only uplifting news he'd heard all week.
He set the phone back on the table, feeling the tip of his tail starting to tick back and forth against the floor; that ol' demon, restlessness was finally starting to rear its ugly head.
Foxes are a denning species and solitary by nature; they don't run in packs like their lupine cousins, preferring to keep to themselves. Nick Wilde was no exception, but even he could take only so much isolation. If the stressed-brick walls of his basement flat weren't exactly closing in on him right now, the interior seemed to have shrunk by nearly a third. He needed...the outside...air.
And today, the morning after Rock Hardesty's cable broadcast was the worst possible time for that, like getting an uncontrollable urge to pee right after the elevator gets stuck. He knew he should stay in; he HAD to get outside.
Dangit, why hadn't he gotten his outdoors fix yesterday? Way to go, DUMB fox.
Well-l-l-l, there was only one thing to do; head out now, get it out of his system, and then get back here, pronto.
But where should he go? No real need for any extra supplies, he was good 'til the end of the week. Okay, then what about a trip to the Mall? Too many other mammals around and anyway, that would be an indoor gig. Kick back in Savanna Central Park? Too close to Precinct-1. Go for a jog along the waterfront? Exercise…ME? Hit the Sahara Square Beach Promenade? Maybe later in the evening, but not while…wait, that gave him another idea. What was Finnick up to today? They hadn't talked for several days now and he really should fill his old partner in on how things were going between him and...and…
"Judy! Dangit, I can't even THINK of her name without getting my tail in a frizz!"
With a small grumble at nothing, he swiped his cell-phone off the kitchen table, and pulled up 'Favorites'.
When he tapped the appropriate number, he was greeted with five rings and a jerky, robotic voice.
"This is…Furizon wireless. Finnick…is currently unavailable. If you'd like to leave a voicemail, press 'One' followed by the 'Pound' key."
Nick growled and pressed the appropriate keys, even though he knew it was a waste of time. When it came to checking his voice-mail, Finnick was about as dutiful as an underpaid temp-worker.
He was even worse when it came to…
"We're sorry; the voice-mail box for this recipient is currently full. Please try your call again, later."
And with that, his call was curtly disconnected.
"I swear Mini-me, you'll never change," the red fox muttered, half annoyed and half affectionate as he returned the phone to the tabletop. Allll righty then—time to go to Plan B. It was still early and Finnick would more than likely still be at home. And if the little guy had a problem with him dropping in unannounced, Nick had a built-in come-back, primed and ready to go. "Hey I wouldn't have to show up like this, if you'd clear out your voice-mail once in a while." (That line had never failed him before.)
Of course, there was still the problem of locating his former partner—but in the course of their last conversation, he had finally learned where the fennec fox lived. He was currently residing in a second story, two-room on the Rue Ghibli, close by where Sahara Square merged into the Canyonlands. While Nick didn't have the exact address, he was sure he could find it, and—here comes the clincher—Rue Ghibli was only a stone's throw away from a ZTA Metro stop.
Nick got up and went to his closet. A short hour later saw him ascending the steps of the Dry River St. subway station.
"Now, let's see." Nick pulled at his chin as he exited into the daylight, "Need to find the climate wall, first. Okay, there it is, over on my left. Sooo, the Rue Ghibli should be over that way, turn right, and then straight ahead."
Finnick's street was narrow and meandering, with buildings that seemed to lean in from either side; in other words, typical for this part of Sahara Square. The place appeared to be in the early stages of gentrification, dull-brown adobe walls giving way here and there to whitewash stucco and limestone; each window topped by a brightly-colored awning. There was even a house decked out in alabaster. It was nice, but not good news for the fox's old partner. All this creeping prosperity meant that sooner or later, the fennec-fox's residence was going to be torn down to make way for something more upscale. It was only a matter of time before…Oh, no!
Nick stopped in his tracks, staring in shock and consternation. His belly felt like he'd swallowed a cannon ball and who had tied that knot in his throat?
"No…NO!"
He had hoped that in the confines of such a narrow street he'd be able to pick up Finnick's scent with relative ease…or maybe, if he was lucky, catch sight of his former partner's new van; a ride like that would stand out nicely in a neighborhood like this one.
Be careful what you wish for; there it was, right in front of him.
"Nooooo!"
Finnick's van was parked in the niche of a bend in the road, listing sideways, like a ship on the verge of capsizing, courtesy of two slashed tires. The passenger side window was an empty space, ringed by a shark's-tooth necklace of broken glass, the mirror and door handle had been wrenched from their moorings and one rear door was dangling by a single hinge. Strewn about the vehicle in a haphazard pattern were piles of shredded clothing remnants; presumably what remained of the T-shirts the little desert fox had planned to sell that day.
"NO…Oh God!"
But the most eye-catching aspect of the vandalism was a four word slogan, spray-painted across the van's flank, in big, neon-purple letters.
PRED AND PREY – KEEP AWAY!
"NOOOOO! You dirty …!"
These thoughts were cut off as a diminutive figure stepped unexpectedly out from behind the vehicle.
Finnick was dressed in his usual red-stripe-on-black sport shirt. He had his arms full of Tees that he was presumably hoping he could salvage…and a look on his face that Nick knew all too well; stoicism, mixed with a dash of pain.
It was the face of a fox that's been spat upon yet again because of his species. Oh yes, Nick recognized that expression. He'd worn it himself on numerous occasions.
"Awwww, Finnick, I'm so sorry," he said, reaching out with both paws. "Here, let me help…"
But his onetime partner had already dropped his load, and had his paws up as if pressing them against a window.
"No, Nick…you need to get outta here quick, 'fore someone sees you."
The red fox turned his pawlms upward. "Finnick please, I…" The words ended in a strangled whimper, as his old partner's ears turned backwards.
"Dangit, I can't be seen wit'choo right now. Just, GO, huh?" Fin's fur was spiked, but at least his fangs weren't showing. That was good for one, last effort.
"Finnick…"
"I don't blame you for dis, but you gots to go." the little desert fox was sweeping his paw in the direction of his van. "Please….we can talk later, okay?"
Before Nick could answer, a nearby window curtain moved...or had it? He didn't know, but he knew that Finnick was right; they couldn't be seen together, at least not now.
"I'll call you," he said, and then turned and hurried back the way he'd come; he had to force himself to keep it to a walk.
He never did give in to the urge to pick up the pace, not even when he was safely out of sight of his old partner. About three yards shy of the exit though he came upon a date-palm tree and went over to it, digging his claws into the bark, and laying the top of his head against the trunk. The wood was rough and full of splinters, but he didn't even feel them.
'I don't blame you for this,' Finnick had said—and his body language and the tone of his voice had concurred.
But NOT his eyes; they'd told a very different story.
Nick dug his claws even deeper into the palm tree. "I can't do this anymore." Had that been a thought…or had he spoken it aloud? He had no idea, but there was one thing of which he was certain. The scene he'd just witnessed was only the beginning—and not just for him but for Judy as well.
Unless…unless…
"Oh, God…"
It was at this precise moment that the bunny in his thoughts pressed the speed dial button for her younger sister.
The call connected almost at once, "Ummm, hey Jude."
Judy felt her heart drop into her stomach. Erin's greeting had been bone-dry and almost flat, without even the slightest hint of her usual spunk.
"Sis, what's wrong?" Everything about the younger bunny practically screamed that there was a problem; her white fur looked even more pale than usual and her blue eyes seemed to have lost their color. Oh, God…it wasn't anything to do with her application to the Performing Arts Academy, was it?
Erin looked upwards for a second and swallowed hard.
"I-It's Gideon Grey, Judy."
She felt her ears go up; what...Gideon?
"Gideon? What's…?" Another thought struck her. "Ohhhh, no…Mom and Dad aren't cancelling their partnership with him, are they?
"No, no…nothing like that," Erin spoke rapidly as if trying to be reassuring. (Her manner was anything but reassuring.)
And then she dropped it.
"Someone trashed out his shop last night; threw a bucket of sand and a bug bomb through the window."
Judy felt her grip tightening around the phone, "How bad?" Ohhh, she did NOT want to have to ask that question.
"Pretty bad," the younger bunny answered, "The Health Department says everything's going to have to be thrown out, even the sacks of flour and stuff he hasn't used yet. I heard mom talking to dad about it." She looked sideways for a second, blinking hard.
Judy blinked too, squeezing her eyes tightly shut. Sweet cheez n' crackers; that meant something else had happened in Gideon's shop, something even worse.
...But what could be worse?
"They sprayed graffiti all over the door too," Erin told her…and the fist in Judy's throat caught fire. She knew…she knew without having to ask.
She asked it just the same.
"What did it say?"
The answer came like a slap in the face, "Pred and prey, stay away."
"Oh, God…NO!"
Judy set the phone down and covered her face with her paws. Poor Gideon…and why…WHY? He had nothing to do with her and Nick. It made absolutely no sense.
…Or it wouldn't have, if she hadn't been a police officer—but she was a cop and so she understood something. Haters, all too often, acted out of a twisted sense of logic all their own. And in Gideon's case, it had probably gone something like this:
Judy Hopps, a bunny, had (allegedly) engaged in inappropriate behavior with a fox. A fox…whoa, we'd like to get that guy—except he's more than 200 miles away, and in place we don't know from Timbucktoo. But say-y-y isn't there ANOTHER member of his species…right here in town?
Yep…that was how a bigot's mind worked.
"Judy…? You still there?
Oops, she'd forgotten all about Erin.
"Uhm…y-yeah sis, I'm here; I'm just…trying to process it."
"Right, yeah," the younger bunny's nod was tight and to the point; she had plainly been trying to wrap her head around this too.
Okay, time for another awkward question.
"Has Gideon...said anything about it…to mom and dad…that you heard?" Judy doubted it but you never knew.
"Nooo," Erin drew the word out as if stalling for time, "But from what I heard mom telling Junior, it hit him pretty hard.
THAT was something Judy could well understand; right now it was hitting her like a bolt from a crossbow.
And you could say the same thing for her sister.
"I can't believe this happened, Judy!" the words exploded out of the younger bunny like a blown propane tank. "Just 'cause he's the same species as Nick…NICK!"
So…Erin had also figured it out. Well, it wasn't that surprising. She had always been a sharp one.
...And also a kid with a habit of wearing her heart on her sleeve.
"What's wrong with mammals? Doesn't anybody in this stupid town remember how he stopped the Guilfords from dropping that…stuff on the Big Dance? Noooo…he kissed a bunnnnnneeeee and so THAT doesn't matter anymore! Bunch of jerks; I can't wait to get out of Bunnyburrow, I hate this place!"
Judy thumped her foot, letting her sister rant on and reminding herself (repeatedly) that it was only the adolescent hormones talking. She would have cut Erin off already except…her sister was right about one thing, if nothing else. Nick really had stopped that chemical attack on the Carrot Days festival—and this was how the citizens of the Burrow paid him back?
"No dumb bunny, not ALL of them," She gave herself a mental slap, "Dangit, you should know that better than anyone."
That brought her voice back—special delivery. "All right Erin, enough!"
"They're jerks…all of them!" The younger bunny cried, refusing to be deterred. Okay, Judy decided it was time for a little tough love. She laid back her ears and cocked an eyebrow.
"ALL of them…really? Does that include your buds, Terri, Cara, Tawny, and Jill—or Sue Cannon…maybe her dad? What about your bestie, Lisa Chatterton; is she a jerk? You tell me, little sister."
These words had the desired effect; Erin seemed to shrink down into herself, shifting instantly from outrage to outright contrition.
"Yeah…no; I'm sorry, Jude."
"It's all good, Erin," Judy smiled and eased up on the throttle, "But take it from a bunny who knows; you can't judge an entire community by the actions of a few troublemakers, any more than you can judge an entire species. You just watch; by the day after tomorrow there'll be a zillion animals pitching in to help Gideon get back on his feet."
"Hey, maybe I'll volunteer to help out too," Erin's ears were perking up already; yep, she was that age all right.
"Good idea," Judy told her, with a barely managed smile. She wished she could head home and join her…but that wasn't happening, was it?
"Um, you're still coming to my audition, right?' Erin asked her out of the blue. She was either being capricious again, or she had sensed that the topic of Gideon Grey was becoming painful for her older sister.
"Of course, I will sis," the doe-bunny said, "that's one good thing about being on paid leave; no worries about having to take a rain check because of any police work." Raising her paw in a bunny-scout salute, she added, "Don't you worry, I'll be there."
"Great!" The younger bunny was almost gushing, "I can't wait to show you…" A low beep sounded on the line, indicating another call. Nothing was showing on Judy's screen, it had to be her sister's phone.
"Whoops, that's Lisa. Gotta go, Jude. I'll call you again later, okay?"
"I'll be here, bye sis."
"Byeeee."
Erin's face disappeared and the phone clicked off.
And Judy's face fell. With her sister gone, she had nothing to hold back her thoughts.
She would keep her promise to the younger bunny…but at the same time, she'd have to keep her distance from her folks. Ohhh...now THAT was going to be a trick-and-a-half.
"Maybe I should audition for the Performing Arts Academy myself," the doe bunny mused wryly, "Preeeesenting, the great JUDY…in her death-defying high-wire act!"
The thought almost brought a smile to her face…but only almost. She was deflecting from the real issue and she knew it.
You could slice, dice, and sugarcoat it; you could spin it like a top until it drilled through the floor, but at the end of the day, one thing still remained. Never mind whose fault it was; if she and Nick had kept it strictly a friendship, Gideon's shop would never have been vandalized. You might as well take a detour to avoid the Amazoon River as try to get around that one.
A friendship—could they ever go back to being just friends?
Judy dropped her face into her paws and began to sob; she'd known the answer to that question even before she'd asked it. And there was something else she knew, a realization that refused to coalesce into words, but one that was equally unavoidable.
…Not that she didn't try to dodge it…as did her partner. For the next few days they kept entirely to themselves, avoiding contact not only with each other but also with everyone else. When Finnick finally called, Nick left the phone unanswered. Judy, for her part, spent a lot of time wrapped in an electric blanket with the heat turned up, (in the height of summer!) Both of them knew what was coming...and what they'd have to do.
Eventually, one of them had to crack and, surprisingly, it was Judy who broke first. It happened when she called Benjamin for an update on the status of her leave. Predictably, there was nothing new to report on that front. But then, almost as an afterthought, the plus-size cheetah had said, "You remember Finnick, Nick's old partner?"
When the call ended a moment later, Judy set her phone on the living room table and just stared at it for a while, her eyes as blank as her face. It was only after they began to mist over, that she picked it up again.
Nick answered her on the first ring.
"Carrots, no…we can't have any kind of…"
"I just now heard about Finnick," she said, cutting him off with a cracking voice. "Have you heard about Gideon Grey?"
"G-Gideon?" He sounded as if he'd be stuck out in the cold with no jacket for the last six hours. "I…no, I…wh-what happened?"
Judy only managed to tell him half the story before he made an unpleasant noise and hurriedly excused himself. A moment later, she thought she heard the distant sound of retching.
In the midst of that interval she finally made up her mind. And when the fox returned, she gave it to him straight—as straight as she was capable of, which wasn't very much.
"Nick, y-you know what has to happen."
His response was both instantaneous and not at all surprising.
"No, Carrots…no."
What he said next was surprising.
"It won't work Judy. It won't be enough."
She felt her nose twitching and her foot beginning to thump.
"Not…enough? Wha…what do you mean?"
When he told her, she didn't say anything, she just burst into tears.
"It's the only way, Carrots." Nick was trying to be firm, but not succeeding; he was on the verge of breaking down himself. "This time it was Finnick and Gideon Grey. Next time it might be my mother…or your sister, Erin."
And that made Judy cry even harder—because she knew that he was right. Erin had gotten friendly with a fox herself; she'd be a prime target for harassment. And what if it happened at her audition? No…never, the doe bunny decided, at last feeling the tears start to ebb; she would NEVER let anyone do that to her little sister.
"Do you want to call Bogo…or shall I?"
"I'll do it," Nick told her.
When they arrived at Precinct-1 a short while later, their entrance came in stark contrast to the one they'd made on their previous visit.
The last time Nick and Judy had 'graced these hallowed halls,' (The fox's jocular term,) they had come in separately, and by way of the rear service-door. Now they strolled in through the lobby—together.
At once, a pin-drop hush fell over Precinct-1 and all movement within the front foyer ceased. Even the oryx and serval-cat, just brought in for booking, froze in their tracks and stared. There seemed to be a thousand pairs of eyes boring into the fox and bunny as they ascended the ramp leading to Chief Bogo's office.
Some of the looks were hostile, a few were sympathetic—Kii Catano was actually getting teary-eyed—but most of the expressions were unreadable. One thing common to every face was the apparent realization that an endgame was approaching.
Pausing before the entrance to Bogo's inner sanctum, Judy took a deep breath and watched her partner do the same.
Her partner…
"Remember what we agreed on," he said, head turning in her direction for only the briefest of seconds.
Judy shuttered her eyes and looked away, also for only the briefest of seconds.
"I…remember."
Nick may have nodded at this, she couldn't tell, but then he reached up and rapped on the door.
"Wilde…Hopps? Come in, won't you?" The Chief's voice was as soft and even as a carpet of new-fallen snow.
Judy drew in a breath of air and followed Nick into the office.
They found Bogo sitting behind his desk, half-moon spectacles perched midway down the bridge of his muzzle. They had caught him in the midst of studying a document—a document, Judy noticed, that was clearly of small mammal size.
He knew why they were here; any remaining doubts on the matter had just been dispelled.
"Please, sit down." The Cape buffalo nodded at the chairs in front of his desk.
Nick and Judy took the biggest one…sitting together, the way they always had. The doe-bunny wasn't sure if that would fly, but Bogo didn't seem to mind. Removing his glasses, he tossed them idly onto the desktop and slid the paper, actually a set of papers, in their direction.
"If it's all the same to you, I'd like to spare you the task of telling me why you've come." He waved a thick finger over the documents, "You're here to request new partners; am I right?"
It was Nick who answered him, and his reply was both blunt and surprising.
"No sir, not just new partners; we want to be assigned to separate precincts—as far apart as possible."
Bogo's brows shot up and his mouth fell downwards. Judy took it as her cue to clarify their request.
"One of us can stay here…but the other needs to be reassigned to the most distant post available."
"What, now?" Bogo's ears flickered in surprise, "That's rather extreme, isn't it? You've not actually done anything improper." His eyes narrowed and his mouth quivered slightly, "Have you?"
Judy turned towards Nick and saw him looking back at her…and then she turned to Bogo again.
But when she tried to speak, her voice failed her. Luckily, the fox's didn't.
"No, sir…not yet, but the only way to make sure that never happens is for us to make a clean break of it; never see each other again, either socially OR professionally."
Bogo stared and blew a double trumpet-blast through his nostrils. A moment ago, he'd been merely surprised; now he was wholly flabbergasted.
"D'you mean…to tell me…Mr. Hardesty was RIGHT? You've really fallen in…in…" He seemed unable to bring himself to say the final word.
Judy couldn't say it either…but at least she was able to speak again.
"I don't know sir; it hasn't gone that far yet. The time Officer…oh, the heck with it, when Nick kissed me during that blood-diamond sting; that was the only time it happened…and you already know that wasn't the real thing." She sniffed, felt her voice-box starting to give out again. Oh no, you don't…not again. "But if we stay together, pretty soon it WILL happen for real. You see..." She forced her gaze to stay with the Chief's, "we may not have ever acted upon them, but we do have feelings for each other, real feelings, deep feelings. There's no way we can go back to being 'just friends' not anymore, not now. That genie's out of the bottle and he's never going back in again."
"But now we understand," Nick wiped a paw over his eyes as he spoke, and Judy could hear a small quaver in his voice. "A fox and a bunny can't ever be anything BUT friends—not at least if they want to be police officers. Someday the world might be willing to accept the idea of a predator and a prey species having a romantic relationship, but until that time..." His gaze locked suddenly with Bogo's. "Did you hear about what happened to my old friend Finnick's van, down in Sahara Square?"
"I'd heard...something about it, but...that was HIS van, got vandalized?" Bogo snorted in surprise, "I'd thought he drove a different one."
"Traded up, but now you know why it was trashed…and why we have to do this. I don't care what happens to me over my relationship with Off…Carrots….Judy." He wiped his face a second time, voice splintering as he spoke again, "But I…I WON'T see my friends getting hurt because of it. That's not happening, period."
"And it wasn't just Finnick." Judy's ears turned backwards and her eyes flashed, as she related the story of what had happened to Gideon Grey's pastry shop. When she was finished, Chief Bogo looked almost as angry as she felt.
"THAT…I didn't know," he rumbled, sounding not unlike the opening notes of a volcanic eruption.
"And next time, it might not be just our friends." The doe-bunny nodded to her left, "Nick's worried for his mother. And as for me…my kid sister Erin was friendly with a fox too for a while—and not just any fox, it was Conor Lewis. Lord only knows what might happen to HER if we don't break it off."
Bogo leaned forward with an elbow on his desktop…but not with his usual 'show-me' stare. He looked tired, the way he'd been while discussing the Flora and Fauna arson fire.
"I understand," he said, in what was, for him, a still, small voice. And then he pushed the documents across the desk again, "Get these filled out and I'll see what I can do about a precinct reassignment. I'll let you know as soon as I've got something." Seeing their expressions, he quickly amended, "Sorry, can't bring you back right away; got to follow procedure and besides," the right side of his mouth arced upwards, "best give it some time for the word to get round."
"With all due respect sir," Nick reached for his half of the paperwork, his expression almost a mirror image of the Chief's, "This is a police precinct; the 'word' will probably beat us to the front door."
The look on Bogo's face became even more sardonic, "True that, Wilde; but how many times since you've been here have you heard of similar rumours going round this place...rumours that later turned out to be complete nonsense?" He waved a hoof in the direction of his office door, "When your fellow officers hear that you've decided to go your separate ways…"
Here Judy almost put her pen right through the paper.
"… quite a few of them won't be inclined to accept it right away; it's going to take them awhile before that happens." He sighed, letting out a puffy breath, and giving his officers a look that was almost affectionate, "I'm truly sorry it's got to end like this. You two have worked amazingly well together; if you hadn't done, I might have ordered you reassigned already."
"Thanks, Chief." Judy answered, hoping she didn't sound bitter; compliments didn't come any more left-pawed than that one. (Nick just buried himself even deeper into his paperwork.)
The Policy 1705, Form 70/16 Transfer Requests were only a single page each, but it seemed to take hours to get them filled out, especially the section that read, 'Reason For Request—Attach Additional Sheet If Necessary.' (In both of their cases, it was necessary.) When the fox and bunny returned the forms to Bogo, their signatures were nearly illegible.
"Right then," Bogo dropped the applications into his inbox and laced his hooves together. His gaze was a mixture of woe and understanding. "As I've said, I can't recall you right away—however, I think I can safely promise that you'll be back on duty sooner rather than later. And also…" He lifted a hoof and for a second, Judy thought he was going to put it over his heart. "I promise to do everything in my power to see that your applications to the detective bureau are put back on track."
"Thanks Chief," Judy said, and this time her gratitude was the real deal.
"Right then, off you go," Bogo waved them away in his usual gruff manner, but not before adding in a heartfelt, "And good luck, eh?"
Judy thanked him again and slid out of the chair.
When they exited onto the concourse, Judy saw that her partner…that her FORMER partner had been right; 'the word' had gotten out ahead of them. The looks they were getting right now were far, far different from what they'd experienced on the way inside. Hostility had given way to grudging approval and this time there was a lot more sympathy to go around. That was good for at least a little comfort; cold comfort to be sure, but right now the doe-bunny would take anything she could get. And Bogo was also right; they—she would be back.
But then what? Things could never be the same as before. How long would it take her to get over it, to get over HIM? Would this wound ever heal?
Maybe, Judy sniffed, but not without leaving a scar.
The Precinct lobby seemed to have expanded to the size of a soccer pitch by the time they reached the foot of the concourse ramp; the walk to the exit felt like it took forever.
When she stepped into the outside air, Judy felt a swirl of wind twisting at her ears. Looking skyward, she saw the dark battlements of thunderclouds, moving in rapidly from the east-northeast. It was the beginning of Zootopia's Summer Monsoon, when humid winds blew in from the southwest, picking up extra moisture as they crossed The Rainforest District, and becoming superheated over Sahara Central. And then, if they turned toward the Climate Wall and Tundratown, that was when the real fun would start. By rights, the next step should have been a blizzard—except for one thing; cold air is denser than heated air. And so instead, the warm, moist breezes would bounce backwards over Savanna Central…at the same time congealing into a churning thunderstorm. Right now, they were probably issuing flood watches for the district's lower reaches.
These were Judy Hopps's thoughts at the moment, an attempt at self-distraction. They lasted until a distant cannonade of thunder turned her mind back to the present—and then propelled it even further backwards to another time and place.
This whole thing was practically a replay of Nick's press-conference on the day that they'd left Bunnyburrow…a place the fox would probably never see again; and oh God, did that ever sting.
At the bottom of the entranceway steps, they stopped, both of them looking straight ahead, breathing evenly as another boom of thunder sounded, closer this time. Judy could feel a wall of faces behind her, peering through the Precinct-1 windows. She wanted nothing more than to turn on her heel and scream her lungs out.
Instead she turned to Nick and saw him pivot in her direction. Their movements were slow and jerkily precise, like figurines on a music box.
The world was beginning to darken now, and the wind was picking up. It wouldn't be much longer; all around them, animals were scurrying for cover.
"Well Nick…I-I guess there's nothing more to say—except good-bye." She immediately wanted to bite her tongue; there was a lot more to say, but nothing that would make any difference.
"Yes," he agreed, wiping his muzzle with the back of his wrist, "Except…thank you Judy—for everything. I'll never forget you."
"Hey, that's MY line, fox," she shot back, somehow managing a wan smile. And then more thunder sounded, causing them both to jump, not a rumble this time, but a crack…loud and very close.
Judy felt her mouth stretch downwards and start to tremble. No, she would not give in to her feelings; 'never let them see that they get to you.' Nick had taught her that rule, and following it would be her parting gift to the fox.
"Good-bye Nick," she said, mustering every ounce of strength she still had left.
She saw his ears wilt and his green eyes blink and then compress.
But he didn't break either; for a second she thought he was going to kiss her again; instead, he only squared his shoulders.
"Good-bye Carrots," he said, and then turned and walked away from her.
And that was it, nothing more to say. Judy turned in the opposite direction and also started walking. It was the wrong way to go to get to her apartment, but at the moment, it was the only course open to her.
Another crash of thunder rent the air, louder than ever. The sound seemed to tear the skies open, unleashing a curtain of solid rain on Savanna Central; a downpour drenching everything in its path—including Nick Wilde and Judy Hopps.
Both of them were okay with it though. It gave them an excuse to run instead of walk; hurrying away, as fast as they could, from the place where they'd said good-bye for the very last time.
Even better, it served to camouflage their tears.
End of The Fire Triangle, Part I: Fuel.
