Welcome to a very special edition of Born to Be Drabbles. So special that it gets posted as a double-feature with the last one. So special that it should've been posted around Chapter 20 or so. This one is long overdue, folks, and it's not going to be immediately apparent why.

So let's move the action away from Zootopia (or Giraffrica) for a bit and take a peek into Bunnyburrow, which we haven't visited since...literally ever. That's what happens when the story stops being about Judy, I suppose.

Drabble 5: The Girl With the Dragged-On Hullabaloo

Bunnyburrow

Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff

7: 30 AM

It was another beautiful morning in the town of Bunnyburrow. The sun was shining, the crops were blooming, and the population sign continued to tick upward at an impossibly fast rate. Gideon was sure at this point that it had to be a local prank, but he wasn't comfortable enough to ask. He had more important things to do anyway.

Like baking pies! It was barely past dawn and he already had plenty of customers to serve. That's life on a farming community for you. Even as a nocturnal predator, Gideon was more or less forced to become a morning mammal to stay in business. Luckily for him, his bright pink apron and naturally cheerful demeanor helped that immensely.

"Here ya go, ma'am," he said politely, handing off a pumpkin pie to a smiling bunny mom and her bouncing daughter.

"Mighty kind of you, Gideon," she replied, trying to keep the young doe from getting at the treat already as they headed out the door.

His establishment was small and humble, much like himself. A lot of white and pink was involved in the design and there were flowers hanging from every wall, not entirely by his own choice. His sponsors simply thought that a fox-run bakery in Bunnyburrow would get more attention if they could make it look as non-threatening as possible. Ironically, they had little issue with Gideon himself, apparently not aware of his less-than-proud history in the community. They did keep him from putting his face on the advertising though.

The bell above his front door rang and in came another customer, one of his regulars. "Good morning, Mr. McGregor."

"Now, Gideon, I told ya to call me Peter," the old farmer said warmly, tugging on the straps of his overalls. "I'm here for my usual."

"One chocolate-covered cheesecake coming up!" Gideon announced, walking back into the kitchen to grab the pre-baked good and bringing it out to his customer. "Here ya go, Mr. McGregor. Still keeping this under wraps from your wife, I hope."

"She'll take my guilty pleasures over my dead body," he muttered, taking the cake and leaving his payment behind. "Ya know, some folks say that foxes are red because they're made by the devil, but I say that's just the color of angels blushing."

"Aw shucks, don't go and make me blush," he laughed, waving him out the door. To think, at one time, he had been Gideon Grey: terror of the playground. Now he was Gideon Grey: kind to the elderly and friend to all children. It was amazing how much could change in such a relatively short time. And he owed at least part of that to a kind, heartful girl who had kicked him in the face.

The bell rang again and in walked another customer. But this was not one of his regulars. In fact, he was fairly certain he had never seen this particular mammal before. The sight made him gape in shock before he realized how impolite that was and covered his mouth. It had just been so long since he'd seen another fox.

And what a fox she was. A grey fox to be precise, one in species and not just namesake like himself. Her choice of fashion was...unconventional. She wore a tight-fitting black tank top emblazoned with the unusual design of a fox skull sticking its tongue out and winking, however a skull could do either of those things, over a pair of crossbones. She had a similar pair of black jeans, torn in several places and connected by a studded belt that itself seemed to have a chain wrapped around it. There were arm warmers around her wrists and fishnet stockings around her ankles, each highlighting her black paws and claws painted purple. There was a spiked collar around her neck and he was fairly certain she had put it there on purpose. Her eyes were purple, cold, and shrouded by eyeliner.

To say that she stuck out like a sore thumb would be the understatement of the harvest season.

The vixen strolled over, completely unconcerned with the stares she got from the other patrons still hanging about and looking at his selection. Gideon needed a second to regain composure himself, but quickly put on a polite smile. Just because this newcomer had an odd taste in clothing, he wasn't going to make any judgements. A customer was a customer. "Good morning, ma'am. Welcome to Gideon Grey's Real Good Baked Stuff. How may I help you today?"

"Help me?" the stranger asked. "Or help yourself?"

Gideon stared blankly. It was pretty early and he wasn't fully awake yet, but that didn't sound like an order for a baked good and he wasn't sure how else to respond. "Help...you?"

"Don't you see it? The injustice our kind receives here?" The other patrons had noticeably left, though Gideon wasn't sure that had to do with her species, per se. "That customer who was just here is a perfect example."

"Peter McGregor?" Gideon asked, more confused than ever. "Nah, it's no big deal keeping his dietary habits a secret. I myself have a weakness for custard. Ya can probably tell." He let out a good-natured laugh, patting his belly.

The stranger seemed surprised regardless. "What? No, I meant-"

The bell rang once again, and another rabbit entered. He was even chubbier than Gideon, wearing a white wife beater that read, "I hate foxes!" in very large print. This statement was evidenced by him blatantly wearing a canister of Fox Away fox repellent on his belt and wielding a fox taser in his paw. His other paw held a bottle of some unidentified, but clearly alcoholic, beverage that he took a swing from. "Hey! Is this here that there fox establishment ay keep a-hearin' about? Ay have some choice wawds ta share with those lowlife varmints!"

His drunk, indignant expression vanished as soon as he saw the other fox in here with him, who was currently glaring daggers at the rabbit. He gulped, smiling nervously. "Oh, was I supposed to come in first?"

"Excuse me just a second," the vixen said, approaching the bunny and promptly dragging him out of the bakery by his ears. She soon pulled him out of sight, leaving Gideon alone with his thoughts.

I didn't leave the oven on, did I? I don't think I did. Heavens to Betsy, I better go check just to be sure.

Gideon turned away and headed into the kitchen. Outside, a bloody bunny ran past the front door, pursued by a furious fox. "Get back here, you useless piece of manure!"

Gideon emerged again a second later. Phew, false alarm. Sure am glad I checked though.

The gothic fox reentered soon after, brushing dust from her paws and looking very pleased with herself. "Man, can you believe that guy? Who would've thought someone like him would just randomly show up like that?" She shot him a smile very similar to the one he just saw on that rabbit. "You see what I mean? Foxes everywhere have to deal with completely spontaneous prejudice like that. It's tragic, really."

"Ma'am, I respect yer opinion as a customer, but you are making me a mite uncomfortable," he replied honestly, weakly gesturing to his shelves of goodies. "So...do ya want a pie or something, or…?"

"You should be uncomfortable!" she pressed, getting uncomfortably close to his face on top of that. "But I'm here to propose a solution."

His eyes shifted left and right. "Okaaaaaay…"

Emboldened by his reluctant consent, she reached into her jean pocket and pulled out a pamphlet. It depicted another rural town, one that was a fair distance away, but well-known regardless. For all the wrong reasons. "Foxden: a safe haven for all vulpinekind," she described with all the enthusiasm of a public radio host. "Here, your exceptional culinary talents will truly be appreciated. You'll be given your own townhouse suite, a generous startup fee, and a consumer base who will judge you not by the color of your fur, but by the content of your confectionaries."

It was then that Gideon finally realized she was trying to sell him something. He took the pamphlet just to be polite. "Well, that sounds like a mighty fine offer, ma'am, but I couldn't relocate. Bunnyburrow is my home, and while some folks might take issue with me around here, I've made a lot of friends too."

"Come on, you can't tell me a populace of bunnies could accept you so easily!"

He smiled softly. "I didn't say it was easy, ma'am. It took a lot of time and effort to improve myself and fit in here, but at the end of the day, it was all worth it. I guess ya could call it a redemption of sorts. After all that, there's no way I could leave."

The stranger deflated, evidently not expecting to be shut down so quickly. He couldn't help but feel a little sorry for her. "But...if ya want, I could part with a complimentary pie, since ya went through the trouble of coming here and all."

He could tell that she hadn't given up on convincing him as soon as he said that, the gears visibly turning in her head as she thought it over. She had no real reason to stick around and continue trying to sell him on this unless she had a good excuse, and chowing down on a tasty treat was as good as any. Gideon wouldn't have made it this far if he didn't have some sense of business savvy. "Besides, for all of yer talk about my baking, have ya actually tried any of it before?"

She tensed up. "O-Of course I've tried it! I I couldn't have enough of your lies-I mean pies! But just as a reminder...what flavors do you have?"

Now that they were on a familiar topic, Gideon finally started to relax. "Well, we've got quite a wide variety, ma'am. There's apricot, lemon, pumpkin, pineapple, blueberry-"

"NO!" she screeched, nearly giving him a heart attack. He had relaxed too soon. "Sorry. I'm...allergic."

"Must be some allergy," he said, shaking it off. "Any preference then?"

Five minutes later, the strange vixen was seated at one of his tables, eating a slice of blackberry pie. He really should've guessed that. "How do ya like it?" he asked, remaining as hospitable and self-conscious as ever.

She shrugged. "It's alright, I guess." But her wagging tail sent a very different message.

Gideon beamed, pleased with the private compliment. Normally, that would be good enough for him, but while he wasn't usually the nosy type, he had to admit he was very curious about this particular customer. "So...Foxden, huh? I take it that's where yer from?"

She swallowed her latest chunk of pie, a bit hurriedly in her haste to answer. "Oh yeah, it's great there. Especially as of late. Our economy has really been booming with all the new business in town. Would be an awesome time to move in, hypothetically speaking."

New business? Is that what you're trying to recruit me for? "What about you?"

"I run one of the biggest." He meant what her life was like, but he'd take any insight he could get. "It technically belongs to my dad, but he's been off on a business trip for a while, so he left me in charge. Since then, I've been taking matters into my own paws, trying to draw in whatever fresh blood I could find so that Foxden remains the ultimate haven of foxhood." There was a strange dissonance in her voice, like she couldn't decide how she felt about that. "All the cool foxes are moving there, or so I hear."

"That's a noble goal," Gideon said, hoping that he wasn't getting her hopes up too much. "I'm sure yer dad will be proud."

"That would be a first." She winced, gritting her teeth. A clear sign she had let too much slip out and was quickly guarding herself again. "A-Anyway...how about that Foxden? I heard it was rated a 99% perfect place to live, except that there's no bakery around. Weird, huh?"

Gideon was silent.

"Ugh, fine, you win, okay?!" She stuffed a large piece of the pie into her mouth, talking right through it. "I know I'm bad at this. You don't have to rub it in."

"Um…"

"I don't need this!" She got up abruptly, still talking with her mouth full. "You can keep your bunny-loving bakery to yourself for all I care!"

"Er…"

"I'm heading back to Foxden! Enjoy being stuck out here in the boonies, you...you...fat guy!" She kicked her chair over and stormed out of the bakery.

What just happened?

She stormed back in, snatching up the pie she'd left behind. "And I'm taking this too! Just try and stop me!" She stormed back out.

"It was a free pie…"

She stormed back in, slamming a bill onto the table. "10 bucks better be enough! Deal with it!" She stormed back out.

"It was...a free...pie…"

Thoroughly browbeaten as he was, Gideon couldn't accept this payment, especially once he took a closer look at the bill she left behind. "Hey, wait!"

He rushed out the door, running pretty fast for someone of his stature. Ignoring the several greetings he received from the locals, (which he still felt guilty about to this day) he sought out the temperamental goth, catching sight of her just as she was about to round another corner. "Hold on!"

She stopped in her tracks, scowling at him as he finally caught up, panting breathlessly. "What is it? Haven't had enough watching me squirm yet?"

He held up the bill. "You can keep this. And the pie."

"That's all you wanted?" she asked, her anger defusing. "So I forgot it was free. Just consider that a tip then."

"It's a $100 bill."

"Huh?" She looked at it again, realizing that she had missed a zero. "T-That's what I meant, obviously. It's a generous tip."

"With all due respect, ma'am, I'm not sure I've done anything to warrant that."

"What are you, a cop? It's for putting up with me." She sighed, seeking solace from the warm pie in her paws. "I'm sorry for snapping at you. I can be a bit...defensive, when I don't get what I want."

"No hard feelings," Gideon said, smiling. "I wasn't always such a ray of sunshine myself. We all have our demons."

"Some stronger than others," she replied, smiling back ever-so-slightly regardless. "Thanks anyway. That was pretty cool of you. I'd still like to have you in Foxden, but maybe I'll settle for swinging by here every now and then. You do make some damn good pie."

"I've been told," he admitted, blushing.

"See you around, ya big dork," she laughed, waving back as she started to walk away again.

Gideon could've left it there and called it a day, but after everything he'd been through with this girl, he had to know at least one more thing. "What's your name?"

She stopped just long enough to look over her shoulder at him. "Vexey." Then she rounded the corner and disappeared.

And so Gideon was left with a name, a lucrative tip, and a big steaming pile of curiosity. Almost subconsciously, he pulled the pamphlet she had given him out of his pocket and looked down at it, seeing the so-called "ultimate haven of foxhood" staring back at him.

Vexey, huh? Wonder what her story is. Ah well, I better get back before those kits get into my sweets again.

Gideon hurriedly slipped away, back to his humble bakery.

Outskirts

7:55 AM

Meanwhile, Vexey continued to walk away, occasionally partaking in the world's most expensive pie, until a large vehicle cut into her path. It was an SUV, built for just this kind of all-terrain driving, and painted completely black. "It's about time you got here," Vexey said, climbing into the back seat. The car took off again as soon as she did, making a beeline back to Foxden.

"So how'd it go?" asked the driver, a skinny, black-suited corsac fox in shades. His ears were pointed rigidly up.

Loud sniffing filled the air. "Couldn't be all bad if she brought back pie," said another fox in the seat next to him, completely identical except that his ears were perpetually drooped.

They had names, but Vexey could never bother to remember them, so she always just called them Up and Down.

"Hate to break it to you, but the job was a bust. You can cross that bakery off our list," she said bitterly.

"Yeah, but you still got pie," Down insisted. "You know what they say: every pie has a silver filling."

"You can't have my pie," she said firmly, holding it away.

"That's a shame," Up said. "Not about the pie, about the bakery. But at least you did your best, right?"

Vexey pursed her lips. Let's see. I bungled my manipulation, got caught in a lie, freely shared unnecessary information, apologized to my mark, and ended up paying him a small fortune. "Yeah. I did my best."

"Good. And hey, there'll be other chances. Don't need to fret just because your mighty criminal empire is somewhat lacking in baked goods."

"Except that it's not my empire, is it?" she asked pointedly. "I'm just borrowing it for a while."

"Well, then maybe that should change," Down suggested.

"...What do you mean by that?"

It was Up who answered. "If you really want to prove how worthy you are of ruling an empire, then maybe you should start by claiming it for yourself. How can you expect to get anywhere by living in your father's shadow, Lady Reynard?"

Vexey leaned back in her seat, pondering this. "That's a rather treasonous idea you two have given me. Care to explain why?"

Down shrugged. "Hey, you're not the only one sick of living under the Count's rule. He acts all friendly and jokey, but you can tell he's looking down his pointy nose at everyone. At least with you, we can sort of relate to being underappreciated."

"Besides, by his own philosophy, anyone who can outfox the Count is more worthy of being in charge anyway," Up added. "He couldn't even complain."

Vexey stroked her chin, getting more and more invested in this train of thought. "Yeah...I could finally show the old mammal who's boss. Literally! And not just him, but his precious Nicholas too. The golden boy so special that Daddy ditched me in a heartbeat as soon as he found out he went cop. I've never even met the guy and I'd gladly put a bullet through his head. Then we'll see who isn't fox enough!"

Vexey looked down at her pie again, then passed it to the front. "I change my mind. You deserve a reward for giving me such brilliant inspiration. Continue serving me instead of my father and you'll get even better treatment. How does 'Royal Attendants to the Queen of all Foxes', sound?"

"Sounds delicious!" Down said, currently buried up to his muzzle in pie. The fact that she had gone from feeling sorry for herself to proclaiming herself royalty in the space of a minute didn't bother him much when free food was involved.

"What exactly does the 'Royal Attendant' position entail?" Up asked curiously.

"You know, giving me advice, enforcing my will, rubbing my feet, that sort of thing."

"Eh, works for me."

"Me too!" Down agreed, licking his lips.

Up glared at him through his shades. "Did you eat that entire pie?"

"Don't worry, I'll buy you another," Vexey reassured him. "In fact, as my first royal decree, everyone gets pie!"

"Yeah!" Down cheered. "Long live the queen!"

"Long live the queen!" Up joined in.

"Long live the queen!" Vexey finished, smiling contently. Thoughts of glorious conquest began to take over before they even made it back to Foxden.

Oh yes, I could get used to this.

So begins the central, overarching plot of Born to Be Drabbles. Yes, there is a central, overarching plot of Born to Be Drabbles.

Meet Vexey, Reynard's daughter and Nick's little sister. If that feels like an out-of-nowhere twist to you, then here's a bigger surprise: Reynard has hinted at her existence no less than three times in the main fic thus far. (There's a reason we wanted to start this around Chapter 20.) Like the rest of Nick's relatives, she is named after another Disney fox. In this case, Vixey from The Fox and the Hound. Vexey, Up, and Down all belong to me.

But like all things Drabbles, this will not be required reading for the main story in the interest of not confusing the (disturbingly many) readers who have yet to venture over here. Vexey will be our little secret for now, with the events of her arc gradually unfolding every few drabbles or so. As such, you'll also be seeing more frequent drabbles from this point forward, at least one with every new chapter. Probably.

So say goodbye to Vexey for now, but we'll be seeing plenty more of her to come. ;)