"Each person deserves a day away in which no problems are confronted, no solutions searched for." - Maya Angelou
8:00 P.M ; Rainforest-District...
Weeks of buildup had all been leading to this.
After so many days apart, followed by even more waiting as the table reservation cleared, Nick and Judy were all too eager to finally enjoy their long-anticipated date night. Arm-in-arm, the two strolled together to the entrance of the Cascade, one of the most expensive restaurants in Zootopia. The building itself was a polished discus overlooking the understory of the Rainforest-District, built from rich mahogany wood and flawless glass panes. It looked like an architecture major's interpretation of a UFO, and carried with it a similar mystique, with the soft yellow light glowing from behind the vine-wrapped windows. Somewhere close by, the roar of a large waterfall could be heard.
"So, remember what we agreed?" Judy piped out as they approached the giant wooden doors before them.
"To enjoy ourselves, get whatever we want, and try to ignore the price tag." Nick listed easily.
"This is a special night," Judy added, sounding almost as though she were trying to reassure them both. "We deserve it."
"After everything we've been through, we deserve the whole restaurant to ourselves."
They found themselves at the entrance. Thankfully, the doors had smaller ones built into them to accommodate mammals of varying sizes. The duo promptly slipped through, stepping into a beautiful rotunda filled with mammals patiently waiting for their turn at the host's desk. Vines dangled from the ceiling, blossomed with flowers that filled the air with a sweet aroma. Nick and Judy promptly stepped past the crowd, reservations well-past made, and were promptly led to their table past the envious glares of the mammals still waiting in line. Judy tried not to wince, feeling a bit guilty, but powered through it by internally reminding herself that they had earned this, as she'd stated earlier. A few heads turned to stare at the fox and bunny as they traversed deeper into the building, some smiling, others not so much. Perhaps they were supporters and disapprovers of Nick's campaign, or his work as a police officer with Judy, or the simple fact that they were the only inter-species couple in the restaurant.
Regardless of reason, the duo ignored them all as they were led to a small table by the edge of the building, overlooking the falls atop a beautiful windowless balcony. Their chairs were made from bundles of roots and vines, and a jar of glow-bugs illuminated their table in a dim yellow glow, adding a tranquil hue to the atmosphere. The soft jazz music playing from overhead certainly helped. It truly was a magnificent restaurant. And Nick and Judy were pleased to be able to share in it together.
After the two were seated, they spent a few minutes marveling and commenting to one another about the decor and the amazing view of the waterfall and Rainforest-District beyond. Though they were surrounded by other mammals dining at their own tables, the dull roar of the water crashing below muted all other conversation, which gave the feeling of being in their own cozy, private little bubble. Both agreed it was a very nice feature. Eventually the awe wore off and they moved to other topics. Namely, each other.
"I love you in that dress," Nick complimented frankly, not bothering to hide how his eyes roved over her curves in the snug fit purple dress.
"You look nice, yourself," Judy returned, glancing down to his rich red button up with large white tropical flowers patterned into the fabric. "Your shirt really brings out your fur."
Nick glanced down and smiled in a self-deprecating way. "I thought it would be appropriate, considering where we are."
Judy smiled and leaned over the table to give his paw a quick squeeze. "It looks nice. I'm glad you're not in that beige suit, even if this is a fancy restaurant. I know you're trying to maintain an image, but I like your Pawaiian shirts. They're part of your charm."
"Funny, some mammals seem to think the opposite."
Both shared a laugh. The waiter came to their table, interrupting the conversation. The well-trimmed cheetah quickly took their drink orders and bustled off.
Nick sprang at the opportunity to steer the conversation away from him. He wanted to talk about Judy. "Anyway. We haven't been able to talk much the last few days, but I noticed you've been pretty distracted at home. Trouble with the investigation?"
An irritated frown spread across Judy's face as she snarked, "You could call it trouble, if trouble is running into a brick wall."
Nick perked up and his brow pinched with concern. "Really? Why?"
"Clovestone's high-powered lawyers got an injunction to stick. We're basically dead in the water."
Now Nick looked shocked, and his tone was incredulous as he asked, "What? How?"
"Remember Harlan's little joyride?" Judy asked rhetorically. Nick's shocked expression smoothed into resignation. He suddenly understood perfectly. Judy went on, "Well, the lawyers managed to find a precedent to label it police misconduct. The original investigation has to be dropped. I'm looking into other avenues, but nothing's clicked yet."
Nick nodded sympathetically. "That really sucks."
"Yeah, it really does," Judy agreed. "But I don't want to talk about that anymore. It's killing the mood. How're things going on your end?"
The sudden change in topic caught Nick a little off-guard, but he acquiesced to his wife's wishes. He dropped his gaze and stared at the table as he gathered his thoughts. It took a while, much longer than usual for the quick witted fox, and it made Judy worry.
"Turns out, I'm not as good a judge of character as I thought," Nick began. Placing his elbows on the table, he laced his fingers together and rested his chin on top. "Someone I thought was a friend - I might have mentioned him once or twice. His name is Bradley. Older buck, met him at City Hall - anyway, we had lunch a few times, I told him a bunch of stuff about the campaign, got his advice on a few things. Come to find out he just launched his own campaign and the entire time he was just spying on me, and actually kind of despises me." Just then, the waiter dropped off their drinks, which included a glass of wine for each of them. Nick grabbed his glass and swirled it, looking melancholically into the deep red torrent. "I had no idea. But I guess it's just politics. I'm probably out of my league." He raised the glass and took a long sip.
Judy hesitated, and before she could figure out what to say, the cheetah waiter was back. "May I take your orders?"
It was only then the both of them realized they had been so caught up in their conversation that they hadn't even looked at their menus. The cheetah was glad to offer recommendations: tropical tilapia tacos for Nick, and a mango salad with lime dressing for Judy. The two gladly accepted and the slim cat bustled away again.
Nick placed his cup down and sighed. "Sorry. Now I'm killing the mood."
"It's fine," Judy jumped to reply, already regretting her earlier hesitation. "Never be afraid to share with me, Nick. I'm here to support you. Always. That's what partners are for, right?"
"What about you? You didn't want to share about the case with Clovestone." Nick pointed out mildly.
"C'mon, you remember how big cases could get. There's always a setback or two…" The bunny cleared her throat. "Or three or four and you get the idea," she listed quickly. "It's normal. Getting betrayed by someone you thought was a friend is a little more important, don't you think?"
Looking very serious, Nick stretched one paw across the table to engulf one of Judy's. "Whiskers, this partner thing needs to go both ways. I don't care if you misplaced a paperclip, if there's anything you want to share with me, do it. It's never an inconvenience, and it is never less important."
Judy stared into Nick's earnest expression, felt how sincere his words were, and she fell in love with him all over again. A smile broke through the frown she had been wearing before. Small, almost shy, but so heartfelt and lovely it nearly took Nick's breath away. The fox blinked in wonder at the change that had overcome his wife.
Judy looked at his paw covering hers, and laid her spare paw over his and stroked the dark fur. "Okay, Nick. I will. I promise."
Even as he wondered at her strange, almost shy behavior, Nick still couldn't help but smile. "So?" He asked while giving her dainty paw a little squeeze. "Tell me about your terrible week."
Feeling lighter than she had in a while, Judy started in. "Well, you already know what happened with Harlan, but just yesterday, at the end of my shift, Bogo called me into his office…"
She went on for some time as she explained the latest developments in her case against Clovestone. All the while, Nick listened intently, nodding along and asking the occasional question to show his interest. Eventually, their waiter returned with their orders, dropping two tantalizing dishes in front of them before hurrying off.
The arrival of their meals broke the immersion. "Oh, wow," Judy couldn't resist blurting as she stared down at her salad. "This looks so good!"
Nick immediately took a bite from one of his tacos, humming pleasurably beneath his breath. "Oh, yeah," he muttered through a mouthful of fish. "Definitely worth the price."
A brief period of silence ensued as the hungry duo enjoyed their food, with the rushing of the water below them filling the void. It was more than either of them could have asked for - great food, great location, great company. After a few minutes of peaceful quiet, Nick hummed and perked up in his seat as a new thought reached him.
"I just remembered I haven't told you: the debating period starts in two days." He announced.
Judy looked up from her salad, revealing a disbelieved smile spreading her lips. "Seriously? That's amazing, Nick!"
"And I'd like you to be there." The fox quickly added.
Surprise maintained, Judy blinked as she registered that offer. "Oh, Nick, I'd love to go, but Chief Bogo might not-"
Nick shook his head. "Don't worry about the chief. I've got you covered. I called him about an hour ago, and we managed to strike a deal: you can come backstage with the team - get the full VIP treatment - under the guise of a ZPD security assignment. So, what do you say-"
Judy instantly brightened. "YES! Of course!" She vigorously exclaimed, voice nearly audible to the surrounding tables past the roar of the falls. "This is what you've been working towards, Nick. Of course I'll be there to support you." One of her paws reached across the table and gripped his own.
The fox smiled, scooting forward in his chair, and for once the dull, chronic ache in his injured leg seemed nonexistent. "I'm glad to have you by my side, Carrots."
"We're partners until the end." Judy reaffirmed, violet eyes bright with joy.
"Yep. One hundred percent."
After a few moments of staring into one another's eyes, they broke apart and shifted back into normal conversation. Judy gestured to her husband's dish.
"So, how's your food?"
"Oh, it's as appetizing as it looks," Nick confessed as he shot a salacious glance at Judy. "I'm wondering if you fall into that same category."
Prude at heart she may have been, years of practice had taught Judy how to play around her husband's flirting. She slyly returned a similar look at him. "Well, that depends if you buy me dessert or not. A little sweetness makes everything taste better, wouldn't you agree?"
Smirking back without falter, as though it were a challenge, Nick snapped to get a nearby ocelot waiter's attention. He cupped a paw over his mouth and whispered a new order to them. The waiter nodded before pacing off. Even with her powerful ears, Judy hadn't been able to discern what Nick had requested. She crossed her arms against her chest.
"I take it you're trying to surprise me?" The bunny asked.
"You know me so well."
Judy humphed, teasingly turning her head away. "Fine. Keep your secrets."
"Don't worry, you'll find out soon enough." He raised his last remaining taco. "In the meantime, if you're still hungry, you can try one of these."
"Fish?" Judy blanched, ears shooting up to the vines above. "I've never had meat before, you know that."
"First time for everything, right?" The fox egged on. "Besides, didn't you say you wanted this to be a special night? What better way to make it more memorable than this?"
"I can think of a few, depending on how good that dessert is."
Nick chuckled. "You sure are full of jokes tonight. I'm not rubbing off on you that much, am I?" He cleared his throat. "And let's not make a joke out of that… at least in public."
Judy's composure finally broke, and she bent forward with the weight of her laughter. One paw slapped into the wooden table, and she hauled herself upright, trying to regain her composure. So caught up in recovering was she that she barely even noticed as the waiter returned and slid a tantalizing slice of cinnamon carrot-cake in front of her.
"Surprise!" Nick piped out, gesturing to the cake. "Call me assumptive, but I figured carrot cake would be a safe bet."
"No, it's perfect." Judy assured, voice finally leveled. She exhaled softly, staring into his eyes. "Thank you, Nick. For everything."
Her husband smiled nonchalantly. "Well, you know I love you."
Smirk crossing her countenance, Judy slid the cake into the middle of the table. "Yes," she jammed one spoon into it, gesturing for Nick to do the same. "Yes I do."
Obliging, the fox retrieved his own spoon and sliced into the cake. Together, they finished the cold dessert, leaving no crumb left uneaten. A perfect finisher for a perfect date…
At least for the part that took place in public.
6:30 A.M ; The next day, Happytown, Savanna-Central...
Early the next morning, in his tiny, cheap apartment, Harlan O'Conall sat on the edge of his bed, clad only in the bottoms of his ZPD uniform. The artificial yellow light that poured dimly through the one window was the only illumination, but with his natural night vision, it was more than enough. The burly wolf held a sizable dumbbell in his right paw, and from how heavy his breathing was, it was clear he'd been at it for a while.
The flip phone that Mikhail had given him was still unused, sitting atop a nearby desk. It drew his gaze every once and a while, though he forced through the distractions.
Huffing and puffing like the proverbial big bad wolf, Harlan struggled to squeeze out a few more reps, but eventually, his muscles could give no more. His sigh of relief was deep as he sat the weight on the grimy carpet by his feet. After, he remained slouched over, elbows on knees as he flexed his trembling paws.
He tried to ignore the flip phone that was still on his desk.
Harlan scrubbed at his face with both paws, movements fast and rough, nearly manic. When that was an insufficient distraction, he stood and began to pace his apartment, only to be frustrated by the fact he could cross the whole thing in about three steps. It didn't make for good pacing.
Also, it took him by his desk, which still had the flip phone.
With a groan, Harlan turned away and bent over his little refrigerator for the twentieth or thirtieth time that night. Same as last time: empty, except for a couple bottles of water and a random assortment of condiment packages from various fast food establishments he frequented. Not like it mattered. With the massive weight that had settled in his stomach, he couldn't have eaten anyway.
Not with the flip phone on the only table in his apartment.
With a strange sound that was part snarl of rage and part moan of despair, Harlan threw the door shut hard enough that the minifridge thumped against the wall. Then he whirled and stomped the single step to his desk. He glared down at the distracting device, yellow eyes flashing in the semi-dark of his apartment.
When he reached for the phone, he told himself it was his strenuous workout that made his paw shake.
Harlan hesitated, trembling paw hovering over the flip phone. He told himself what he was supposed to do. The cop in him told him to turn it over to Bogo. Even with his probation, Harlan might be able to spin the situation to his advantage, maybe even repair his damaged record by turning in Mikhail in a sting operation.
The street-smart wolf in him said to smash the thing. To never go back to the Fireside Lounge. It's not like Mikhail's organization (which Harlan knew was probably the Tundratown Mafia, but he pointedly refused to admit it, even to himself) would ever reach out to him again, for fear of exposing themselves. Then Harlan could ride out his probation and get back to his hard earned career and the rest of his life.
While Harlan contemplated, his gaze wandered away from the phone. Across the floor, up the wall, and out the window. He gazed upon his street: dirty, ugly brick tenements with cracked and peeling paint upon their doors, and window frames thrown into ghastly relief by the hazy yellow glow of the street lamps. It was an ugly view, but the only one he'd ever known, growing up in Happytown.
His gaze continued to rise, until he looked upon the famous Zootopian skyline looming over the rooftops. His eyes zeroed in on one building in particular: Capricorn Tower. Being among the tallest skyscrapers, it was hard to miss. The spiraled building was modern, clean, oozed privilege and wealth. And in that moment, Harlan realized that all of it, not just the sweeping, curving capitol monument to Rupert Clovestone, but every single shining skyscraper in Zootopia had been built at the expense of predators by despicable prey who would never face justice. Never.
Life isn't fair, Harlan's mind reminded him. But that doesn't mean nothing can be done about it. Doesn't mean that justice can only come from one source.
Harlan's expression cleared, revealing determined eyes. Dropping his gaze back to the phone, he scooped it up with a steady paw and flipped it open without hesitation.
There was only a single message: Find out everything the ZPD knows about the attack on Subzero Storehouse.
7:00 A.M ; Fangpyre Family safehouse, the Nocturnal-District...
"Dinner is almost ready!" The crime-lord cheerfully announced to the room, smooth voice rolling through the black-marbled tiles of the safehouse's kitchen.
Beside him, a raccoon in a cooking apron leaned down to examine the pot of boiling red chunks that Vladzotz was stirring at. "Excellent work, my lord. The beets are perfectly hydrated, and the thyme will make for an exquisite aftertaste. A perfect borscht recipe! Your cooking lessons are paying off exponentially."
"Darn right they are!" A playful, feminine voice added. "I never imagined a blood glaze would go so good with salad, but I guess I am a bit biased. Best appetizer ever."
Vladzotz glanced over his shoulder, watching Lucy as she happily chomped into a forkful of red-tinged leaves. She sat at an ornate mahogany table, one leg crossed over the other, stretching the fabric of a skintight, wine-red dress wrapped around her hourglass frame. Black laces shaped into a spider's web exposed the gray fur on her back, and part of her thighs.
The crime-lord smiled at his wife's praise. "Thank you, my dear. I am pleased that this war hasn't interfered with my hobbies. I still have so much I wish to try. To learn."
"Well this is a good start." The raccoon said as he tossed in a handful of minced garlic. "And between you and me, it's nice to have someone helping with the cooking now and then."
"Only through your lessons have I earned the right to wear this apron," Vladzotz remarked, gesturing at the white cook's smock over his black vest and slacks. "You have my gratitude for teaching me such valuable skills, Charles. Your pay is well earned."
"Of course, my lord. I've cooked for many of the other crime-lords, but you're the first to ever actually want to learn for themselves. It's a nice change of pace." Charles leaned into the pot and sampled a bit with a spoon. "Hmm. Probably shouldn't have thrown in that much garlic. We'll need to add something to mask the flavor."
"I know, how about we add some blood?" Vladzotz asked, reaching over to a nearby cabinet.
"Oh, no no no," Charles swiftly interjected. "We couldn't possibly use any of those bland, crude bottles, my lord. A dish like this deserves the best!" He gestured to the steaming pot. "I'll go get a bottle of your finest from storage! A dry hippopotamus pinot, type O-negative, will mix with the beets to make a perfect, bold flavor. Excuse me."
As Charles left the kitchen, Lucy eyed her husband slyly. "You've been really warming up to this. It's nice to see you happy, even with the war going on."
"I agree," Vladzotz replied, looking to Lucy as he continued to stir the pot. "And you've been really warming up to helping with the logistics side of the organization."
"Well, I didn't have much of a choice, thanks to that stupid wolf," Lucy clutched at her side, where the scars from Niko's claws were still healing. "But I've been enjoying myself helping around with the planning a lot more than I thought, even if I am partial to field work. It's nice to be the mastermind for once, rather than just the merc hired for the job." Lucy admitted. "Always did make me feel a bit like some tool."
Vladzotz smiled at her. "You were never a tool to me, my dear. Not even when you first started offering your thieving services to the Nocturnal-Mob."
"I know. Don't think I didn't notice." Lucy remarked, leaning over the table and supporting her cheek with one palm. "That's what made you different from my other employers. I admit, it certainly helped attract me to your mob… and to you."
Glancing back at his wife for a moment, Vladzotz cleared his throat, trying to ignore how titillating she looked in that dress, bathed in the dim light of the candles throughout the kitchen. Though his core temperature suddenly felt warmer, the crime-lord masked it with a smile. At the table, Lucy smirked at his reaction, and then stretched her wings up as she continued, "Being around the house more has also given me plenty of free time to investigate Peter. I managed to find the Lemming Brother's office he worked at after he faked his death. I'm gonna pay them a visit soon to look for more leads."
"And by pay them a visit, you mean-"
"Shimmying in through an air-duct and robbing them blind," Lucy clarified. "How else would I pay them a visit?"
Both bats shared a laugh. Being able to enjoy this brief respite, past all they had suffered over the past month - from descending into war, and having to give up their children - was one of the few things they could do to avoid going insane. Still, they tried their best to leave the day's worries behind them to relish in a moment of peace. Their moment was interrupted as Charles returned to the kitchen holding a small bottle of red liquid.
"Now, before we add it to the pot, who wants a glass?" He inquired, smiling wider as both bats raised their wings in confirmation.
Retrieving two glasses, the raccoon began to empty the bottle, but tipped it a bit too far, splashing some onto his paw. Suddenly seizing up, he quickly wiped the stain on his apron before hurriedly washing the paw in a nearby sink. "Terribly sorry! Lost my grip for a moment there, heh heh." He chuckled nervously and swallowed before raising both glasses and handing them to his employers.
Lucy's gaze flicked to the glass of swirling red liquid in her claws. Something about the way Charles had acted didn't sit right with her - how quickly he'd tried to clean himself from a simple spill. And that garlic he'd thrown in the pot was pretty excessive, to the point of masking the other smells in the room. It was almost like…
Her head snapped up. "Wait, don't drink that!" Lucy yelped, pushing off the table and flying toward her husband. The glass was millimeters away from Vladzotz's mouth when she slapped it out of his grip, shattering it across the floor and staining the carpet red. When she had righted herself, Lucy jabbed an accusatory wingtip at the raccoon chef across the room. "This guy's trying to poison us!"
All eyes turned to Charles, who visibly shrank beneath the attention as though it had tangible weight. The commotion had attracted a pair of passing badger guards, whose stern glares only added to the raccoon's stupor. "W-Well… I…"
"Charles… you've served me for ten years…" Vladzotz's disbelieved expression quickly twisted into an enraged snarl as he suddenly recalled how much of a particular ingredient Charles had added to the dish. "Were you trying to overdose me on garlic?! What kind of vampire do you think I am?" He pushed himself to his feet at the head of the table. "Traitorous wretch! I had warned what would befall any who made pacts with the enemy. I'll show you exactly how vampiric I am." The crime-lord turned to his guards. "Drain him into a nice merlot. Something my wife and I can enjoy over a good book."
"Wait, no!" Charles screamed, resisting as the badgers grabbed his shoulders and began to drag him away. "You're not the only mammal I cook for! I-I have a family! They'll know I'm missing!"
Vladzotz sneered as the raccoon's words reached his ears. Lucy observed his face, observing as his anger conflicted with something else - something softer.
Finally, the crime-lord flapped over to Charles and grabbed him by the collar as the badgers held him in place. "How dare you bring family into this after attempting to murder mine!" He snarled. "You must be punished…" Vladzotz directed his coming words to the badgers, all without taking his single red off of Charles. "Take this traitorous scum outside. Teach him a lesson… and then send him on his way. His services will no longer be employed here. Though I'm certain he won't need his tail to live."
"You're… you're letting me live?" Charles asked timidly before Vladzotz grabbed his throat with one wing.
"You'll wish you weren't," he growled before releasing his hold. "Now take him out of my sight."
"You okay, Vlad?" Lucy asked as Charles was dragged away, pacing up to him and gently placing a wingtip on his shoulder. Her use of his true name didn't escape the crime-lord's attention.
"I am," he assured. "I had wanted him dead, but… we must be better." A deep breath was inhaled and then released. "I'm just… going to miss his cooking."
Lucy allowed herself a smile. "I think you'll be able to pick up the slack." She said, nodding her head toward the dish he'd worked with Charles to make.
Vladzotz chuckled dryly. "Yes, I suppose I'll have to now."
"He would've made a nice merlot, though," Lucy mused, licking her grinning lips. "But we can make do without him."
"Indeed. Personal chefs are just a waste of money anyways."
That said, Vladzotz retrieved another bottle from the blood cabinet, popped its cork with one clawtip, and poured the fine red liquid into the pot. Just as he was about to try a spoonful, another mammal entered the kitchen doorway. Both bats turned to watch a burly, heavily tattooed naked-mole-rat in a black commando sweater approach them.
Lester bowed slightly. "Forgive the intrusion, sir," he began in his gruff voice, one paw migrating to a pocket on his green cargo pants. "But there's something you should see."
Vladzotz nodded, setting down his spoon. "Very well."
The mole-rat presented a colorful brochure to his master. "As Head of Security, I make it my business to keep an eye on happenings in the district. I stumbled on this advertisement for an art gallery in the center of town no more than an hour ago."
Opening the brochure, Vladzotz admired the paintings on display. Lucy took one peek around his wing, and her eyes widened with disbelief. "Hrm," Vladzotz rumbled thoughtfully. "This would make a nice excursion for Lucy and I, perhaps after the war's end, when it's safer to engage in such leisurely activities."
"That's not what made me bring this to you, sir." Lester pointed out. "You see-"
"That's mine!" Lucy interjected, reaching around Vlad's arm and jabbing a clawtip so hard into the brochure that she nearly pierced it.
Bewildered, Vladzotz glanced between Lester and his wife before taking a closer look at where she was pointing. Her claw had singled out a beautiful depiction of the Rainforest-District's canopy bathing beneath a setting sun, almost looking as though it were on fire. Then Vlad saw the text next to the photo.
"Treetop's Twilight… by Lucele R. Sang?" He read aloud, velvety voice filled with surprise. His single-eyed gaze turned to Lucy. "You made this?"
"I didn't just make it," the female bat replied, utter disbelief marking her face. "That's my best work! An appraiser gave it a six-digit value when I'd just graduated high school!" Her disbelieved expression twisted into frustration. "What the hell is it doing there? I've never put it on loan to a museum before. It's been lost for years, ever since I gave it to-" Her words halted as her breath caught in her throat. After a moment's hesitation, she narrowed her eyes and growled, "Peter…"
She snatched the brochure from Vlad's claws and brought it to her face. Vladzotz and Lester both watched her as she anxiously paced around the kitchen.
"I gave it to him as a present years ago, just before I found out the Infernum betrayed me. I always assumed it had gotten stolen after the Infernum collapsed, and Peter faked his death, but… it's really still out there." She swallowed hard, and then lifted her gaze to meet with Vlad's. "I need to get it back."
"Ma'am, it's very possible that this is a ruse designed to lure you into a trap," Lester quickly warned. "I strongly advise that you-"
"I don't care," Lucy snapped. "I poured weeks worth of hours onto that canvas. So many of my works from before I went to prison are gone. I'm not giving up on my masterstroke!"
"Lucy," Vladzotz added, voice soft and pleading. "Lester is right. Consider this carefully. If you try to steal that painting back, you could be putting yourself at risk."
The thief's determined expression softened, ears dipping ever so slightly at the notion of his concern. "I know. But when has that ever stopped me before? At least this time I'm trying to steal something that's actually mine." She sighed. "I lost everything when I went to prison. That painting is a part of me from a different time," her eyes longingly flicked to the brochure. "Before all the crime, and betrayal. Aside from Lilian, it's the only thing that survived from those simpler days. I… don't wanna lose it too."
Vladzotz and Lester shared a glance. The former sighed. "If you truly wish to go, I won't stop you. But please be careful." He reached out and stroked one side of her hips with one wing, feeling out the place where Niko's claws had ripped into her. "This will be your first field work in weeks. If you haven't fully recovered-"
"Don't worry, Vladdy," Lucy assured, gently patting a wing over Vlad's own. "I can take care of myself. I wouldn't be doing this if I didn't think I could handle it."
The crime-lord nodded his assent. "Very well. But make it a clean heist - no theatrics or flashiness. Stealing things is about the things, not the stealing.
Lucy allowed herself a smile. "I'll be in and out in a flash. Promise." She let go of Vlad's wing, and he in turn released his hold on her pelvis. "Guess I'd better go get my catsuit ready," she stretched her limber body from side to side. "Hope you're not gonna miss me wearing this dress around the house."
"Neither leave much to the imagination." Vladzotz teased flatly, earning a playful elbow from Lucy, which caused his own mouth to twist into a smile.
"Hey, a good thief needs all the mobility they can get." She smirked knowingly, cocking one hip to the side. "Besides, I've never seen you complain about my flexibility before."
Vladzotz cleared his throat. "You should be going," he diverted, trying to keep the conversation from getting too off track, particularly into such personal territory while Lester was still in the room. "The sun will be rising soon, and a good thief needs all the darkness they can get, wouldn't you agree?"
Lucy giggled beneath her breath, catching on to Vlad's intentions, but otherwise nodding her head without question. "Fair enough. I'll be back before ya know it."
9:00 A.M ; City-Hall, Savanna-Central...
Around and over…
Through the loop not once, but twice…
Pull tight and readjust.
Bradley Stagnew lifted his head, eight-point antlers rising past the gaze of the intense blue eyes staring back at him in the mirror. His hoofs released the black tie fastened flawlessly about his neck, admiring the way it complemented his gray suit and the crisp white button-up beneath it. Every inch of the outfit was tailored perfectly to his imposing height, and lanky frame. It was a simple, professional wardrobe that Bradley had known all his life. Forty devoted years of serving City-Hall, and it had never changed.
Until today.
The deer retracted a balled fist from one pocket. He looked down and spread his fingers, revealing a tiny button in the shape of Zootopia's flag: a laureled white Z entrapped within a golden circle. The spaces surrounding each side of the Z were filled with a different color, from orange and blue, to yellow and green - the colors of the four wealthiest primary districts in the city. A symbol of unity. It was a cheap trinket, all the same, but Bradley had kept it as clean as possible, all in preparation for this moment.
Your time has finally come, Bradley silently told himself. Decades of dreaming, years of planning. And now - at last - action.
With a resolute determination filling his expression, he pinned the button to his left lapel and breathed in deep, watching the flag rise and fall with the movement of his chest. It was perfect. But it wasn't enough - it didn't fulfill him. No, Bradley knew better than anyone that he wouldn't be satisfied until the mayor's chair was his and his alone. Were it so easy. His gaze flicked to the side as he remembered Nick Wilde's distraught words from the previous night - how utterly betrayed the fox had looked. His anguished face, and the shock laced behind each breath. Bradley siphoned a sigh through his nostrils. It wasn't the first time he'd seen such looks, and he doubted it would be the last.
Bradley stared into his own eyes, as though looking for something that wasn't there. The tired wrinkles around his eyes didn't escape his attention. It had to be done, his mind concluded. You haven't come this far - done what you've done - to let what's left of your conscience get in the way. Not now.
His goal was all that mattered, and the vision of the future that propelled it. This was his truth, and he would not compromise it for anything. Bradley nodded at his reflection a single time, and then strode out of the washroom. He marched into the spacious, terraced foyers of City-Hall, head held high, and antlers even more so. A flurry of camera flashes immediately assaulted him, though he ignored them all as he walked straight through the pack of chattering journalists, which parted before him like a curtain - not out of respect, Bradley knew, but intimidation. A mammal his size was hard to stop, especially with just the right glare about his face. And there was work yet to be done.
Putting that notion to words, one of City-Hall's many secretaries - a young ewe that Bradley had worked with in the past named Ms. Flockley - jumped between the deer and the reporters surrounding him, flapping her arms as though trying to draw their attention away.
"Mr. Stagnew isn't taking any questions, at the moment!" She piped to the crowd. "He's still a City-Hall employee and needs his privacy to focus! Please!"
Her pleas were unfortunately drowned out by the clamor, save a single hare cameramammal standing beside her that happened to overhear. "Yeah, right! As if that's gonna stop us!" He guffawed. "This guy's a hot topic just waitin' to happen! No announcements, no submission, just boom! Runnin' for mayor! He's gotta have major donors to pull that off! And not a word on his platform yet! He's a blank slate! First station to cover what Bradley Stagnew's plans are is winnin' big!"
This, Bradley overhead. They were right, of course - he was only here to put his employment on hold so that he could focus on his campaign, and to finalize his official election documents. But their neediness still vexed him. Parasites, his mind growled, though he kept his expression the cold veil of neutrality that came so easy to him. These pesky journalists had found him here, and scampered at his heels, looking for a story. If that was what they wanted, then he'd give them a story like no other.
The deer halted his leave with a step that echoed off the glossy tile floor, and abruptly turned to stare down at the horde of pigs, hares, and sheep that surrounded him. He used just the right amount of intensity in his glare to show he meant business without coming across as too harsh. And judging from the brief pulse of fear that zapped through the irritating reporter's faces before they quickly calmed down, his intentions were realized. Another perfectly calculated manipulation.
"Unlike other candidates, I'm not in this for the parlor tricks," he announced in a firm, commanding voice that drew the attention of not just the reporters, but passing mammals as well. "Politics isn't show business. This is leadership. I trust in my competence, and in my policies - enough to know that parading them around at every turn won't be necessary. You want to know what I have planned for Zootopia?" The deer leaned a bit closer and lowered his voice to a softer yet more intense level, making sure every camera caught every word. "Then watch me at tomorrow's debate."
Without another word, he averted his gaze back to his original path and continued his exit, leaving the journalists all blinking at one another. The hare that had prompted the outburst swallowed hard, and then smiled excitedly at Ms. Flockley. "Oh man, this guy's definitely gonna make some headlines!"
As he walked away, Bradley smirked ever so slightly - an action that only he was able to appreciate…
He, and unbeknownst to him, the scarred black rabbit spying from the shadows of a branching hallway. She raised a phone to her shredded left ear.
"Wake up, Boarton. It's Virginia." She announced softly into the device. "I think it's finally time for phase three."
10:00 A.M ; Nocturnal-District...
Landing atop the rooftop's edge, Lucy surveyed the vicinity like a vampiric security camera.
Rocky streets below carved between medium-sized skyscrapers, or more accurately dome-scrapers, considering the location. The small cluster of high-rises were the largest buildings in the Nocturnal-District, yet still pitifully small compared to the ones on the surface-world. This part of town was among the few places in the district that wasn't overrun by petty crime, with clean sidewalks and beautiful street lamps bristling with bioluminescent crystals. The skyscrapers were Gothic in design, with ornate slopes, stone spikes, and more than what could be considered an appropriate amount of gargoyles. Perched atop the building's rim, sporting her trademark black catsuit, Lucy hoped that any passerby would confuse her for one. Thankfully, at this hour, most of the district would be asleep.
A few ZPD cruisers from Precinct Six blared down the streets, red and blue lights flashing into the deserted alleyways between each building, illuminating seedy figures hiding in the dark. Not that they concerned Lucy. She simply flew overhead - leaping from the building's edge and gliding toward her destination. A few flaps brought her to one of the windows of an adjacent skyscraper. Using her talon, she traced a circle into the glass. With the grace of long practice, she pushed against the pane with her feet, slipped inside, and caught the piece with her talons in one fluid, silent motion. After fitting the piece back into its pane, Lucy scanned her new environment, echolocating for good measure.
A spacious series of rooms stretched deeper into the building, and the concrete walls were lined with dozens of various paintings. A few cheap wooden benches filled the space between, adding some much needed decoration to an otherwise empty museum. The returning sound waves revealed no witnesses. The floor was all hers. Yet Lucy kept her attention on high-alert, just in case any guards came crawling. That, and she wanted to find where her painting was as quickly as possible. To keep her promise to Vlad, she would have to be quick about this.
Flapping through the halls, however, Lucy was quick to realize that finding her masterstroke wouldn't be as hard as she first thought. Nearly all of the paintings were simple, almost laughable arrangements of colors, shapes, and lines, as though no effort had gone into creating them at all. Meanwhile, Lucy's target - and all of her works, for that matter - was a detailed recreation of a landscape. Looking about, the sheer lack of creativity disgusted her.
These are the worst paintings I've ever seen, she thought to herself. This whole exhibit is just one big money-laundering scheme.
Flapping past a glass wall, a flash of orange and green in Lucy's peripheral stalled her flight path. She flapped back to the glass wall and stared past it. In the adjacent room, a beam of light illuminated a small canvas filled with a painstaking recreation of the Rainforest-District bathed in the light of a setting sun. Grinning, Lucy flapped around the wall and right up to her painting, touching down on the hardwood floor below it. She stared up at the canvas she had spent weeks slaving over. Memories of the long, meticulous hours returned to her, along with all the sounds and smells of the attic of her old family home in the Meadowlands. Just looking at it was enough to remind the bat of simpler times, when her only concerns in life were school and painting. She wondered how different things would have been had she not fallen victim to the Infernum's manipulations.
Perhaps her life had proceeded differently than she would have imagined as a high schooler, but with all she had now, she couldn't complain, even if the war had shaken things up. Now all that mattered was bundling her life back to the orderly state it had been in as early as a month ago.
Lucy's gaze sank a bit. But then what? What happens after the war ends? Will things really go back to normal? Her eyes fell to her claws. Is normal even anything I've ever had?
The bat hated to admit it, but she didn't know. Growing up, she hadn't exactly had the most loving family. Her time in prison, and afterwards with the Infernum was no better. And now she was a professional thief married to a mob boss. And now her, Vlad, and their children were all at risk over a war that she started. What kind of normal was that?
The taunting words of that arctic wolf, Niko, found their way back into her mind: We know about your children! And if you think they're safe, you're in for a rude awakening!
Her sister Lilian's warning followed: You can't be some mercenary forever.
Lucy sighed. If only it were that easy. Being a mercenary was all she'd known for a long time. She raised her gaze, staring over the painting that brought back so many memories of simpler times. But… maybe it isn't so hard, she silently told herself, smiling ever so slightly. Maybe… maybe after the war ends… Vlad and I can take the pups and-
"Brings back a lot of memories, doesn't it?" A whimsical voice spoke out, derailing the bat's train of thought.
Lucy whirled behind her, spotting a flying squirrel with white fur and pink eyes staring at her past the glass wall. She was certain he hadn't been there a minute before. He smirked at her, arms crossed against his chest. He'd replaced his thieving outfit for a dark purple suit and slacks with a frilly collar and stars patterned faintly into the glittery fabric.
"How do I look?" He asked as he turned in a circle. "I wanted to dress for the occasion."
"Peter!" Lucy stifled before shifting into a defensive stance, opting not to comment on the overly flamboyant outfit. "What are you doing here?!"
"Now now, there's no need to be so hostile," Peter assured, spreading his arms to show empty paws. "I'm not here to kill you. Not yet, anyway. This isn't the right time, or place."
"You expect me to believe that after you tried turning the inside of my head into a Jackson Pollucat?" The bat snarled.
The flying squirrel scratched at the back of his neck. "Okay, okay, I admit, we got off on the wrong foot. After nearly offing you so suddenly back at the office, I've since realized that it lacked closure. So fast! No no, you deserve much worse. But I'm not here to fight. I'm only here to talk. I wanted the chance to speak to you one last time before our inevitable showdown - one last chat to level the field before there's no turning back." He spread his arms further, gesturing to the exhibit around them. "I went through so much trouble to arrange this for you. I knew you wouldn't be able to resist coming to steal your painting back. Don't you like it? I'd hate for it all to go to waste."
Lucy felt tempted to glance around at the gallery, but opted to firmly keep her gaze on Peter. "I have nothing to say to you."
"How out-of-character for someone so typically mouthy!" Peter teased, bushy white tail flicking as he snickered beneath his breath. "Are you sure you don't want to talk? We may not get another chaaaaance."
The bat shifted her feet uncomfortably, thinking it over while keeping her eyes on her old mentor. "Fine," she spat. "I wanna know how you organized this."
Peter shrugged. "My new employers are quite generous, and quite eager to see you dead as well."
"I suppose you can't tell me who your employers are, huh?" Lucy asked skeptically.
"Where would be the fun in that?"
"Typical," Lucy grumbled. "I'll figure it out myself then. I already know you're working with that boar and rabbit, and I know that T.U.S.K has something to do with it thanks to your dumb boss' video monologue. I bet they hired you to kill me because of our past in the Infernum."
"It is true that I was trying to kill you that day, but I have to admit, a part of me was really, really hoping you'd get away," the flying squirrel confessed, placing one paw over his heart. "What good is revenge if your target doesn't even know they're being revenged upon? Do you think I went through all the trouble of faking my death and hiding in the shadows for years on end just to pop you in the back of the head and be done with it? How dreadfully anticlimactic. But you got away, and instead have doubtlessly fussed and fretted over how I survived and how you were going to deal with seeing me again. Now that is a real showstopper, and you know me, I've always been a performer at heart!"
"Hell of a performance you've put on so far. All just to get at me?"
"But of course!" The flying squirrel confirmed. "Only the best for my protégé! I must admit, you certainly made it difficult though. You were a very elusive figure to track down again, and once you finally stayed in one spot, it was to align yourself with one of the most powerful criminal syndicates in all of Zootopia. An impressive accomplishment, especially considering what you did to that last batch of criminals you worked with."
"I hope you're not expecting an apology. You were all asking for it."
"Oh, we certainly were!" Peter agreed without skipping a beat, smiling wide and displaying his prominent teeth. "But that's the funny thing about revenge, isn't it? You destroyed the only family I've ever known, Lucy Sang, and regardless of your reasons, I simply cannot abide by that. Vengeance begets vengeance. Just as I can't condemn you for destroying the Infernum, nor can you blame me for targeting you and yours. It is simply the natural cycle we have both entered into."
"Can't blame you?! Like hell I can't! I only targeted those who wronged me personally!" She swept one wing through the air. "Vlad, my family, they have nothing to do with what I did to you! And you incited a war anyway, to what, try and wipe them all out too?!"
"You misunderstand the intent. The war was never my idea. The credit goes to my employer. They have grand goals of their own. I'm just piggybacking along for a chance at revenge. Whether the Nocturnal-Mob or the Tundratown Mafia wins this war means nothing to me! Nor do I care if my alleged boss achieves his own ambitions! The purpose, the only purpose behind any of this, is you, Lucy. There is a certain balance you have achieved in this new, stable life of yours; one that I don't believe you deserve. So I have disrupted that balance! Now you are thrust into the midst of this conflict just as I am! An even playing field for us to finally settle the score for good!"
"I'll settle it alright," Lucy snarled, baring her fangs with threatening promise. "You can be damn sure of that!"
"I would expect nothing less! Until then, just remember one thing: I may not be a magician anymore, but I still know how to make things disappear." He lifted one arm and snapped his fingers.
The lights suddenly blinked out, filling the room with darkness. Lucy instinctively echolocated to compensate, but by the time the sound waves returned to her, the lights flickered back on. Peter was gone, leaving no trace of his existence - save for a single queen of diamonds playing card with an X scratched over its head in the place where he'd been standing just moments earlier.
Lucy scoffed. "Tacky. Whatever. I'll be taking this," she muttered to herself as she turned around and plucked her painting from the wall, smiling proudly at her old handiwork. My past may be a hellhole, but at least I can be proud of these.
Meanwhile, on the roof of the building, Peter perched atop a gargoyle with a phone to his ear. "Sorry, but she got away." He spoke into the device.
Rupert Clovestone's snide voice harrumphed disapprovingly from the other side of the line. "What a waste. Your talents have been grossly oversold."
"Patience is a virtue. Not to worry, we'll get her soon," Peter smiled knowingly. "Very soon."
11:00 A.M ; Samantha's office, Downtown Zootopia...
Nick liked to think that he was an adaptable mammal.
Happytown runaway? No big deal; he'd made it work. Brief stint in the Tundratown Mafia? Perhaps not his smartest move, but at least he'd gotten out in one piece, right? Years of conning mammals on the streets of Zootopia as a nomadic, dashing rogue? Not a problem. Becoming a cop and falling in love with a workaholic rabbit? Definitely weirder origin stories. Running for mayor? Why not? If there was one constant in Nick's life, it was that there was no constant - anything and everything was game so long as he had his wits about him. And Nicholas Piberius Wilde always had his wits about him. Life was only ever easier with Judy at his side, supporting him every step of the way.
Adaptable as he was, Nick only wished he could have gotten used to betrayal by now.
The Ranger Scout incident had been his first true taste of it. His father abandoning his family hadn't exactly made a positive reinforcement, either. Mayor Bellwether's betrayal had nearly cost him his life, back during the Nighthowler case. And now, someone who he'd hoped would be a friend had jabbed a knife straight into his spine. In hindsight, the signs were all there. Nick just wished he could have been smart enough to see them for what they were, at the time. But Nick knew that among the many traits that Judy had helped instill in him, trust was in him somewhere. And he had trusted Bradley too much. But in the end, what other options did he have? Nick was a political novice, looking for whatever help he could get, and Bradley was a pro, all too happy to fill the part. A full day since Bradley's manipulations were revealed had yet to pass, and even after that relaxing evening in the Rainforest-District with Judy (followed by an impassioned night of two-to-play stress relief), the betrayal still weighed heavy on Nick's heart and mind.
Samantha's office did little to curb his mood, even despite its bright, cheerful atmosphere. Ignoring all the smiley faces she'd drawn on the sticky-note reminders plastered about the room took a special kind of willpower. So instead, Nick focused his gaze through one of the large windows in the back of the office, leaning his shoulder against it and contemplatively staring outside. Below, mammals from all walks of life strolled the sidewalks of Downtown Zootopia, from packs of mice riding past on equally tiny bicycles, to homeless raccoons (or at least, they looked homeless) picking through a garbage dumpster in an alleyway across the street, giving frightful glances over their shoulder as though afraid someone was watching. Even this amusing sight failed to bring a smile to Nick's face.
He was the only mammal in the office, and for one of those rare moments in his life, Nick enjoyed being totally by himself. A brief glance at his phone's time told the fox that Olivia, Niel, and Samantha would be returning from their early lunch soon. A part of him had wanted to go, but he ultimately decided that some time to himself to think would serve him best. Nick hefted a thick binder in one paw: the data that Bradley had given him weeks ago. Over the course of those weeks, it had successfully helped his campaign study voting patterns in preparation for the debating period (much thanks to Niel's sharp mind), but now, whenever Nick looked at it, all he could think about was his failures.
His green eyes flicked to a nearby garbage can. Exhaling softly, the fox stepped closer and hovered the binder over the bin with one arm. Images of Bradley's stern face and harsher words flashed in his mind, and his paw trembled. The beige suit that had practically become a trademark for his character in politics suddenly felt a touch too sweltering, to the point where he felt tempted to loosen the purple tie around his neck. A few fingers loosened around the binder, but something stopped Nick from fully letting go. One of the deer's words of wisdom found its way into his mind past the viler comments.
You know what it takes now. It's just up to you to decide if you have what it takes.
Nick hated to admit it, but it was good advice. Another exhale escaped the fox, this one stronger, as though a painful knot had finally loosened from around his lungs. He pulled the binder away from the garbage bin, staring at it for a moment before opening it and scanning over the plentiful data inside. He couldn't just throw it away. It was too valuable. Bradley himself had even assured it was real in the midst of their argument last night.
Fine, the fox thought to himself, mind flashing with images of everyone who had supported him on his journey, from the smiling faces of Judy and his campaign team, to all his enthusiastic followers in the Marshlands. You think I don't have what it takes? I'll prove you wrong. I'll make good use of your pretend gift. I will become Zootopia's first fox mayor, and I'll make the world a better place. He nodded his head in silent encouragement to himself. New memories entered his mind: visions - reminders - from his time with the Tundratown Mafia, and all the desperate crimes and cons he'd committed over the years for the sake of greed. I'll pay back my debts to this city, and everyone I've hurt.
Without hesitation, Nick crossed an unmistakable X shape above his heart. It was the one thing he took away from the Ranger Scout incident - his first betrayal - that he'd ever done any good with. Promise made, Nick had all the incentive he needed to push through this latest betrayal, and truly show the world that anyone could be anything. He chuckled dryly, smiling for the first time since his team had left the office. Judy really had rubbed off on him, for him to even consider that as a possibility for himself.
Before he could get any more immersed in his thoughts, a gentle knocking drew his attention. Nick glanced to the office's entrance, where an aging vixen with graying red fur stood in the doorway. Both foxes smiled at each other.
"Hey, mom." Nick greeted, setting the data packet atop Sammy's squeaky-clean desk.
"I hope I'm not interrupting anything," Olivia began, voice slightly weathered by age, but no less warm. "Samantha and Niel are downstairs, dealing with some guests from the Police Union in the lobby. I…" She paused, uncomfortably tracing one claw behind her ear. "Didn't really have anything to contribute, so I thought I'd come see you."
Nick shook his head in disagreement. "Mom, you're selling yourself short. You've been a huge help for the campaign. Planning events, giving advice, and of course, being the wisest, most charitable mammal in the room has its perks. Pretty sure Niel would have tapped out by now if we didn't have a calming presence like you around." He gave her a pair of thumbs-up. "Best campaign chairmammal this side of the Polar Strait!"
"Oh, you're as cheesy as you are flattering, dear," Olivia retorted, dismissively waving one paw as she stepped inside and closed the door behind her. Her green, prudish dress and blazer made her look uncharacteristically professional compared to the tough yet loving household mother that Nick had always known her to be. "But we all know I'm just a glorified secretary."
"Maybe so." Nick admitted, head nodding a bit to the side.
"That was your cue to disagree." Olivia grumbled, staring at him disapprovingly for a moment before both foxes cracked identical grins.
"Hey, secretaries are the backbone of every company." Nick insisted. "Even at the ZPD, I got all the best morning gossip straight from the source."
"Oh, I know you're right. It's just hard to feel useful when mammals like Samantha and Niel take charge."
"It's their job to. Don't be too hard on yourself. You're a great help." Nick locked eyes with her, pouring every ounce of reassurance he could through them.
"Well, I'm glad at least you think that." The vixen smiled back.
Both foxes enjoyed a moment of companionable silence before Nick broke the ice. "So, how was lunch?"
"You should have come yourself, if you wanted to know that." Olivia quipped in response, with a smirk none too different from Nick's own.
The todd shrugged nonchalantly, though Olivia was still able to note the way his face grimaced ever so slightly. "Yeah, well, everyone needs a bit of me-time every now and then, right?"
Unconvinced, Olivia stepped closer and placed a comforting paw on her son's shoulder. "I know you're still recovering from what happened with your friend-"
"Don't make me wish I hadn't told you." Nick jokingly interjected.
"-But you should know that you can always count on your friends," Olivia continued firmly over his interruption, having had plenty of experience talking through his quips. "Your real friends." She smiled warmly at him, paw briefly patting Nick's cheek before falling back to his collarbone. "And your family."
Nick gave a weary smirk and pat his mother's paw with one of his own, feeling the added pressure on his shoulder. "I know, mom. And I love ya for it."
Olivia exhaled swiftly, relieved. "Good. I'd hate to have raised a quitter." She said as she pulled her paw away. "This family has dealt with enough of those for one lifetime."
Nick didn't even need to ask to know who she was talking about. "That reminds me: how are you and dad doing? I haven't seen him in the fur in almost a year, since I got out of the hospital. I know you've been busy with the campaign and all; not saying that you couldn't handle both a bootstrapped election bid and a stubborn old todd at the same-"
"He's fine, Nicholas," Olivia assured, chuckling softly beneath her breath. "We're fine. We have… boundaries, of course, but we're working well together. I've been helping him set up his new tailor shop. All the paperwork officially cleared last week. Wilde Times, as he calls it," Olivia sneered the title with no small amount of disapproval, clearly having experienced one too many years of bad puns. "Opens in a few weeks."
Nick chuckled, a bit of pride pulling his mouth into a wider smile. "Wow! Juggling a soup kitchen, a campaign, a business, and dad all at the same time? What can't you do?"
"That's high praise given all you've accomplished."
"I guess ambition runs in the family, huh? Funny," Nick chuckled. "Judy always teases me for being lazy. Maybe I was born to break expectations."
Olivia smiled proudly at her son, and was moments from replying before another knock emanated from the door. Both foxes turned to face the source, and stared over the opossum in a black bomber jacket and jeans standing in the doorway.
"Hate to put a damper on the wholesome family moment," Niel stated flatly, snide voice filling the room as his dark brown eyes settled on Nick. "But you're needed downstairs."
Nick glanced to his mother and shrugged. "Duty calls."
Olivia pat his shoulder one last time. "Good luck. I'll stay here, and get started on finalizing your entry in the debate tomorrow. Quite a few calls to make."
That said, Nick nodded his approval before strolling out of the office with Niel. While they descended the stairs back to the lobby below, Niel cleared his throat.
"How long do you think she's gonna stay?" He bluntly asked.
A quizzical look twisted the fox's brow. "What do you mean?"
Niel kept his gaze on the steps in front of him. "Your mom," he clarified as though it were obvious. "You hired her as a temp. I don't think that keeping her around is gonna do us any favors."
"Hey, she's a great chairmammal." Nick retorted, voice taking on a hint of defense. "Inexperienced? Sure. But so is everyone else on the team. If you'd asked me a year ago if I thought I'd be this close to sitting in the mayor's office, I would have laughed in your face. Samantha, for all her competence, is the only political consultant that would take me, and that's just because we're friends from high school. You told me the day we met that you've never been a communication's director before, either. We're all winging it here, but I'd say we've done a pretty good job based on the results so far, wouldn't you agree?"
Niel scoffed beneath his breath and shook his head. "It's not our results that concern me. When you did your interview at the soup kitchen, you clearly stated - in front of dozens of cameras - that your mom was only gonna help until someone more experienced could fill the role. It's been nearly a month, and she's still here." He paused to readjust his glasses. "The debates start tomorrow. One of the other candidates is gonna bring it up sooner or later. You're gonna get yourself accused of nepotism if you take her all the way to the office. That could open us up to real charges."
Nick sighed, unable to deny that Niel brought up good points. "I get that you're worried about the debate, but it's too late to make the change now. The way I see it, if she can hold her own - and she has - she can stay with us for as long as she likes. Don't worry - once I'm in office, we can hire a new chairmammal if we have to, and she can go back to her life. She's juggling a lot of other things. I'm sure she'll step down when the time is right."
"You care about her," Niel remarked, stopping at the base of the stairs and turning to face Nick. "And why shouldn't you? She's your mom. But that's the problem. A real campaign shouldn't be some kind of family-fun-time-"
"A real campaign," Nick interrupted, walking past the opossum and gripping the handle of the stairwell's exit. "Is something we'd forgone the moment I announced ours at the police ball. We're not exactly playing by the book here. If it works, it works." He glanced slyly at Niel over his shoulder. "Welcome to the Nick Wilde Administration."
The fox stepped through the door without another word, leaving the matter settled. Niel, however, only narrowed his baggy eyes distrustfully, staring at Nick's back for a moment before following him. Both mammals entered the building's lobby floor. With its clean marble floors and fake potted plants, it was an improvised sort of sophistication that reminded Niel of the campaign he currently worked for. Pushing those thoughts aside, Niel followed Nick toward a group of mammals gathered in the middle.
Among them stood a bison of imposing height, dressed in a chestnut brown suit and bolo tie. He had to duck his head a bit to avoid impaling his glossy horns into the ceiling above, yet thankfully a building sized for medium-mammals was enough to accommodate even him. A group of about a half dozen various mammals in dress shirts and suits assembled around him, and there were even a couple pigs in ZPD uniforms. Samantha, despite her small size, was the second easiest to spot, given her matching bright yellow skirt and suit jacket. The meerkat was quick to notice Nick and Niel as they approached, and excitedly waved them over, turquoise earrings flailing distractingly with the act.
"Hey, if it isn't the double-N-tendre!" She greeted, vivacious voice filling the lobby. "Nick, Niel, get over here and say hi to the Police Union!"
Nick sauntered over with an easy grin on his face. "How could I possibly ignore my biggest endorsers!" He joked, earning a few chuckles from the crowd. "Seriously though, we couldn't have gotten this far without you guys. You have my thanks, Mr. Redhorn."
The bison leaned down to shake Nick's paw with one of his hoofed fingertips. "It's our pleasure, believe that," he stated in an easy southern drawl. "You've proven to be a good investment with all the support you've gained. The Union has high hopes to see you in office."
The other union members around him nodded their agreement, filling Nick with pride. "I hope not to disappoint." He said with a nod.
"We'll… do our best." Niel added softly, though if his tone of voice gave any reluctance, Redhorn didn't seem to let it damper his own enthusiasm.
"Great to hear!" He thundered, pumping one fist before using it to retrieve a comparatively small clipboard and pen from one of the pigs next to him. "Onto brass tacks, I'm here for more than just to give my support. Hate to say it, but paperwork is priority. The first debate starts tomorrow evening. As I'm sure you know, it'll be held at Zootennial Stadium in Sahara-Square. The committee that organizes the debating period - which the Union works with - needs one last bit of information before you can participate."
Joseph gently pushed the clipboard and pen into Nick's paws, and as the fox flipped over the pages, he continued, "You'll need to declare which district you'll represent. Twelve candidates, twelve districts. Representation is generally tied to whatever district your campaign's base of operations resides in, so for you, it'd be Savanna-Central."
Nick quirked a brow and tapped one foot against the lobby floor. "Aren't we in Downtown Zootopia, though?"
The bison shrugged with exasperation. "Technically, Downtown Zootopia is its own district, but it's officially recognized as part of Savanna-Central. Some borders are a bit… blurred. Little Rodentia is completely encased in Savanna-Central. The Deciduous-District is viewed more as a border town than an actual district, even though they have a seat on the City Council. And the Canyonlands has tried to break away from Sahara-Square and be its own district for years now!" Point made, Joseph pumped an approving fist. "You can afford to be a bit flexible. Thankfully, candidates aren't limited to picking unclaimed districts. You can choose Savanna-Central even though it's already been claimed."
"Really? By who?" Samantha piped out.
"I believe it was Bradley Stagnew's campaign that made the first grab for it," Joseph muttered, scratching at the curly fur on his scalp. "But I should warn you that it's generally tradition for each candidate to pick their own district. Helps with marketing, and the committee's administrative work."
"Is that so?" Nick mused, thoughtfully weighing his options.
His eyes traced down the paper, noting the empty boxes next to districts like Tundratown, the Marshlands, and the Docks. Nick had traveled to, performed cons in, and solved police cases in every one of them, but none seemed to resonate with him enough to claim for himself. Not even Savanna-Central, particularly with Bradley holed up in it already. At the very bottom of the list, he noticed another box with the word 'Other' next to it, followed by a blank line for writing. The fox grinned, and filled in the empty line.
Joseph retrieved the clipboard and double-checked the claim, only for his bushy eyebrows to rise with surprise. "Happytown?" He asked incredulously, glancing down at the smaller fox. "Are you sure? No candidate has ever represented Happytown before."
"Why not?" Nick countered, shrugging innocently. "It may be part of Savanna-Central, but it's big enough to be a sub-district. If the Docks can, it can too."
"The Docks is the city's shipping and marina district," Niel interjected. "And the only place in Zootopia that can accommodate marine mammals. It's different."
Nick smirked, glancing down to the opossum before returning his gaze to Joseph. "Happytown has a ninety-nine percent predator population. Demographics aren't the problem." He crossed his arms confidently against his chest. "If we're doing this for the marketing, then we're gonna have to make a statement no one will ever forget."
"I like it!" Samantha beamed, hopping in one place excitedly.
Niel looked at her with bewilderment before ultimately rolling his eyes and sighing. "Oh, alright. I suppose it's not so bad of an idea."
Joseph nodded his approval. "You're an ambitious team, I'll give you that. Just be prepared to fend for yourself in the debate! It's sure to be questioned." He cleared his throat gruffly. "A few more things to know: you'll have two more debates to win after this first one to reach the mayor's office. The preliminary starts tomorrow, and there'll be eleven other candidates that you'll need to set yourself apart from. This is a good start! But you'll have to give it your all. Four of em'll be left by the second debate, and by the third there will only be two. All of Zootopia will be watching." The bison smiled wide. "Make us proud, Mr. Wilde!"
Nick gave a reconciliatory glance to his communication's director. "Well, it's like Niel said: we'll do our best."
Though he didn't look happy (then again, he rarely did), Niel's critical gaze softened a bit. "We will." He confirmed.
Joseph clapped his meaty hoofs together. "Excellent! I'm sure you'll surpass our expectations." His imposing gaze fell on Nick, and he handed the clipboard back to him again. "Now, there's one last thing you'll need to confirm before you're qualified: you'll need to pick an assistant-mayor."
The question admittedly came as a surprise to Nick, but sure enough, on second glance, another line at the bottom of the paper requested that very information. He rubbed at the back of his neck, chuckling nervously. "I've been so wrapped up in the race that I forgot I'd even need one."
He looked around the room, eyeing the faces of his friends and supporters. His first instinct was to want to give it to Judy, to have her at his side in office, but he knew that was a fantasy. She walked her own path. Still, Nick had no doubt that they'd make a great team to clean up Zootopia, with his brains in City-Hall and her brawn out enforcing the law. And yet the question remained: who deserved to be his assistant-mayor? Nick could only think of one mammal.
Turning to Samantha, Nick stiffened one arm and ceremoniously tapped both of her shoulders with the side of his palm. "I hereby dub thee, Samantha Diallo, the official Assistant-Mayor of the Nick Wilde Administration," he spoke slowly before offering up his paw in front of her. "So that you may continue to advise me into my term as mayor… should you accept it."
Samantha stared up at him with no small amount of bewilderment, jaw agape and blue eyes wide with disbelief. Her flummoxed gaze fell to the proffered paw as though trying to discern if it were even real. After a moment's hesitation, the meerkat swallowed, locked eyes with Nick, and gripped his paw firmly.
"I accept!" Samantha claimed. She looked utterly serious for only a moment before a bright smile split her lips in a toothy grin. Finally, the meerkat couldn't take it anymore, and lunged forward, capturing Nick in a hug that yanked his upper body down to her height. "EEEEEE! I can't believe it!" She squeed, jumping in place and tugging Nick with each pull. She spoke so rapidly that he could barely understand her, even with her mouth so close to his ears. "Assistant-mayor? ME? You're crazy! But it's a good crazy if it means you're willing to trust me with it! This is such an honor! I never imagined I'd actually join an administration after the campaign is over, but this is an amazing opportunity! If I can get you into office, I'll be with ya 'till the end, buddy!" She released her hold on the fox. "Wow! Oh, wow, there's so much to plan! I'm gonna have to-"
Nick gripped her shoulder with one paw, which startled her out of her excitement. "Slow down there, Sam, we've still gotta get through the debating period, after all."
She panted hard, and let out a deep breath of air. "Okay! Okay. You're right," she swiftly agreed, quickly calming down. "Thank you."
A deep laugh broke the ensuing silence. All eyes turned to Redhorn, watching as he crossed his beefy arms and smiled proudly at the smaller mammals before him.
"I couldn't think of a better choice if you put a burnin' brand to my back!" He guffawed. "This team is goin' places! I know it. Tomorrow, we'll show Zootopia what it means to have a cop in City-Hall!"
Nick and Judy have their well-earned date at last, Vladzotz and Lucy return after a few missing chapters, and the debating period finally begins! Many happenings unfold in When Night Falls, and you can be certain that the coming chapters will only ramp up, well, everything: the action, the drama, the revelations, and the romance. I can't wait to reveal it all!
In the meantime, feel free to let me know what you think of this latest chapter? Did you enjoy the date? Do you think Vlad and/or Lucy might not survive the coming conflict? What do you think Bradley Stagnew is planning? All your questions will be answered in due time. Until then, stay tuned for chapter 12, "A Fox's Wish," coming soon! Also, credit to Berserker88 for writing that talk between Peter and Lucy!
And now that we're well into double-digit chapter territory, I want to thank you all for supporting this story. It means a lot to me!