FYI (For Your Information): Nick will be going into great detail on some of the tragedy he's lived through, so if you cry easily-keep a box of Kleenex on hand.

FYI: For all my non-American readers, Nick uses the phrase "lock, stock, and barrel" which is a phrase meaning that you own the object in question and everything attached to it. Now enjoy the chapter and don't hate me too much for the cliffhanger at the end. =)


After Nick opened the door and wheeled Judy in, Bogo stated, "You're late."

"Yes, we are," Nick stated bluntly, but then added, "But you can thank the specist jerk you have manning the reception desk for that. We were here on time."

Bogo's ears flattened as he glanced at Hopps, who said, "Nick asked Staggson one simple little question that only required a two second answer, and we would have been on our way. But no, he had to go off on Nick, and when Nick simply re-asked his question so we could leave, Staggson pulled out his cuffs and intended to throw Nick in the cooler!" Judy threw her paws up in the air as her anger returned full force while talking about how badly her fox had been mistreated. She was so mad she didn't even feel intimidated by Bogo (it also helped that she wasn't facing him alone—Nick was with her).

As Judy paused in her fuming tirade, Nick spoke up. "If he had thrown me in jail, I would have sued him for unlawful incarceration and aggravated assault." With a smug grin, he added, "And with all the camera's in the lobby, my complaints would be uncontested."

Bogo frowned then rubbed his temple as his headache now felt like someone was standing in his head with a jackhammer. Taking a deep breath, he could feel his powers of persuasion dropping to an all-time low. If that's how the fox was treated the minute he walked through the doors, did he even have the right to ask Wilde to apply for the academy?

Taking another deep breath, Bogo said, "I will see that Officer Staggson will be properly punished for his offenses."

Judy nodded while folding her arms. "Good," she muttered under her breath, "because I have a slew of citations I want to slap him with."

Nick watched her a minute, then walked around to the front of the wheelchair, asking, "Shall we get this meeting underway?" Judy glanced up and nodded, then wrapped her arms around his neck as he leaned down to pick her up. "Okay, here we go." Turning around, he crouched and then leaped into the orange plastic chair sitting in front of Bogo's desk. He saw a second chair had been placed next to the first, but Nick ignored it. This chair was plenty big enough for the two of them, so he simply sat down next to Judy. He didn't even bother putting space between them as they needed to tell Buffalo-butt about their relationship anyway.

Bogo raised an eyebrow at the two, not only at the grace the fox showed in jumping into the chair while carrying Hopps, but also at how close they were sitting. It did beg several questions, but he studiously squashed them down. He didn't care.

"Okay," Bogo said as two pairs of eyes focused on him—one attentive and the other half-lidded and smug. Bogo assumed that was the fox's default expression. "For starters, Hopps, I received your medical records. The doctor recommends medical leave for three weeks and light duty for two weeks after that." With a raised eyebrow, he added, "We'll see if the doc gives the same prognosis after your visit on Monday."

Judy's ears dropped as images of the last two days flashed through her mind. Her ears immediately flushed a dark pink while remembering how she blatantly ignored the pain in her leg as she repeatedly wrapped her legs around Nick's middle or straddled his waist. Nor had they elevated her leg much in the last two days.

Bogo watched Hopps' guilty expression and Wilde's slight twitch of his ears as he stopped them from folding back—which led him to his next question. "Am I right in assuming you're staying with Wilde while your leg heals?"

Judy's nose twitched, but she answered clearly, "Yes, sir, I am. I have nowhere else to stay in the city and Nick won't let me stay in a hotel."

"Absolutely not," said Nick as he made a big X with his arms. "No friend of mine is staying in some seedy hotel when I have a perfectly good room they can stay in. Especially when it's my best friend, and she has an injured leg and needs help getting around."

Bogo nodded, still studying the way the two interacted (and taking note of how Wilde claimed Hopps as his best friend), then asked, "I assume this is a temporary arrangement. You will be looking for your own place while your leg heals, won't you?"

Nick froze at Bogo's assumption, and he struggled to keep his ears up and a growl from sounding. Just the thought of Judy moving out and leaving him alone again hurt. But he kept his thoughts to himself as he wanted to hear what Judy had to say.

Judy crossed one arm over her chest and raised her other arm as she brought her fist up in front of her mouth, saying, "Ooh, well, you see, Chief, um . . . Nick has a really nice 2-bedroom, 1 and a half bath house with a large yard, and well, there's no way I could find a nicer place, or even a comparable place, that I could afford . . . here . . . in the city." She said this last while motioning with her paws.

"She's right, Chief," Nick commented. "Rent's free, so Judy will just have to pay for her half of the utilities and internet charges, along with splitting the chores and yard work with me."

Judy beamed at Nick as they hadn't actually discussed the financial side of her living with him, but it was nice to hear he wouldn't be charging her for rent when he wasn't paying it himself.

Bogo looked between the two. As Hopps had pointed out, rent in the city wasn't cheap, and for him to be staying in a 2-bedroom house—not an apartment, but a house with a yard—his rent must be sky high. So why wasn't the fox asking Hopps to help pay such a huge expense? Seeing how close they were, his gut twisted at what it implied. Perhaps Wilde was more a sly fox than he thought. If he used these kinds of means to get what he wanted, then it would be better if he wasn't on the force.

Taking a deep breath, Bogo asked carefully (as he didn't want to know the answer, but knew he had to ask anyways), "You aren't charging Hopps any rent?"

Nick leaned back in the chair as a wide, smug grin spread across his face. "Not a cent."

Bogo tried to keep a neutral expression and asked, "Then is Hopps paying for her room and board in other ways? With . . . personal . . . favors, perhaps."

Judy's ears drooped behind her back as she couldn't believe what the chief was implying. How could he think that Nick would ask that of her? Or that she would accept such an arrangement?

Nick's ears immediately folded back and a low growl vibrated through his chest, just barely audible and bordering on a snarl. His tail wrapped around Judy's waist as the thought of anyone trying to force his honeybun to use her body as payment set off his protective instincts for his mate. Leaning forward and glaring at Bogo's stunned expression, Nick growled, "I would never ask Judy, or any female, to use their body as payment for anything I offered them. That is morally wrong and sick in the head." Taking a deep breath as his growl continued rumbling in his chest, he added, "Judy is not an object, she's not a thing to be bought or sold, nor is her body a commodity to be used so cheaply. She's a person to be respected, a precious friend to be protected, someone I cherish."

Nick took another deep breath while opening his mouth to continue, but the words died in his mouth, as did his growl. Taking another deep breath, his sinuses were flooded with her thick, sweet, excited scent which caused his abdominal muscles to clench excitedly in return. With his eyes widening as he realized what he was doing, Nick flopped back against his seat and glanced at Judy. Murmuring softly, he said, "Sorry, I know what my growl does to you."

Judy simply smiled back at him, then chuckled softly. Leaning toward him, she whispered sweetly, "Well, I know what my scent does to you, so I guess we're even."

His ears locked onto Judy as did his whole focus, then a wide smile split his muzzle and he chuckled himself. "Yeah, I guess we are."

Bogo frowned as he watched his smallest officer and her friend. The fear that should have been present at having a predator practically snarling just inches from her face was nowhere to be found. Instead, Hopps was looking at Wilde with a warm, affectionate gaze. Almost like she was—No. Don't think it. She's a rabbit, he's a fox—it couldn't happen. But watching the two interact, he knew it was happening—at least for Hopps. He couldn't be sure about Wilde (the fox was too good at masking his emotions), but Hopps' expression was an open book. A book that told him his smallest officer was developing special feelings for the smug todd who saved her.

Oh, this cannot end well. While considering the problems an interspecies relationship posed (provided Wilde developed similar feelings), Bogo felt like the jackhammer in his head suddenly had company. With a heavy sigh and a pounding head, he ran a hoof down his face. This day just keeps getting better and better, he thought sarcastically.

Bogo's movement caught Nick's attention and he turned to look at the chief. Leaning back against the chair, he folded his arms and said smugly, "Chief, I'm not charging Judy rent because I don't pay rent. The house is mine. I own it—lock, stock, and barrel."

Bogo's mouth turned down into a frown. "How can you own a house"—Bogo shook his head—"How can you afford to own a house when you have no job? At least not a legitimate one."

Nick's ears flattened against his head again as he thought of the "legitimate" jobs his family had worked at and the unfairness and suffering they were subjected to. "Legitimate job? You want to talk about a legitimate job for a fox? My dad had a legitimate job—he owned his own business, a tailor shop, and was quite successful. But that made other business owners jealous and greedy. I mean, how dare a stinking fox think he could make something of himself by owning a successful business," Nick spat out while waving his paws.

With his voice seething with cold rage, Nick continued, "He was stabbed repeatedly in cold blood for no other reason than he was a fox who rose above his stereotype and proved he was more than a shifty lowlife. And you know what happened to that backstabbing swine who murdered him? Hmm? Nothing. He wasn't even taken in for questioning. And the stupid paramedics who were supposed to at least try to save his life? Once they heard it was a fox they were picking up, they decided to stop for coffee and donuts on their way and were thirty minutes late getting there. They didn't even attempt to stem the bleeding but threw my dad roughly on the gurney and loaded him into the ambulance where he died a few minutes later. They were as much to blame for my father's death as the murdering swine. And did they ever get called up or punished for their negligence. Of course not, it was just a filthy pelt who died so who cares!?" He threw his hands up in the air.

Nick was practically snarling at this point as the rage and unfairness of his father's murder swept through him. He'd kept it bottled up for so many years but now he couldn't stem the tide. Having Judy around the last two days had demolished his defenses, and he couldn't find it in himself to hide from his future boss, not when Judy was sitting beside him and filling his senses with her sweet scent, which gave him that little bit of extra courage to speak his mind.

The room fell silent with the exception of Nick's heavy breathing. No one spoke. Judy didn't even attempt to stem the tears that flowed freely down her cheeks and soaked her shirt. How could anyone be so heartless? So . . . so . . . cruel and . . . and evil? Having never experienced or come in contact with such suffering and darkness while growing up in Bunnyburrow (the closest thing she could relate it to was Bellwether's evil plot and her attempt on their life—which paled in comparison to what her fox had suffered), she was left speechless for there were no words to truly describe the horrors her fox had suffered through.

As the silence stretched on, Nick took a deep breath and continued his angry tale of pain and suffering. "You know what happened to my mom after my dad's death? She got a legitimate job, as you like to call them. She had to get several—a dishwasher at a fancy restaurant, a waiter at a family diner, a maid at a hotel, a janitor at an office complex. And you know how she was treated? She worked her fingers to the bone doing the job of 4 or 5 mammals at each job but only paid moldy peanuts for her efforts. She could barely pay the bills, let alone feed us. We hardly ever saw her." Leaning forward while continuing to glare at Bogo, he hissed, "And do you know what she should have been doing? Where her talents lay?" At Bogo's ear flick, he answered, "She was a world class pianist. All the orchestra's praised her music and talent and all swore up and down about how they'd love to have her, but none of them wanted to tarnish their image by hiring a filthy fox."

With a sneer as Nick leaned back, he continued, "And then, just days before my 12 birthday my twin brother was the victim of a drunk driver and do you know what those legitimate doctors did when he was wheeled into the hospital? I can still hear their snide comment in my head. 'Another filthy fox. Just stick him in the corner over there, I'll get to him when it's convenient.'"

Bogo couldn't keep his neutral expression as his ears dipped and his frown deepened. He didn't want to hear the rest of Wilde's tale, but knew he needed to. He had wanted to know more about the todd's past, and Wilde was being surprisingly open. Deciding to keep his mouth shut, he waited for the vulpine to continue.

Nick barked a bitter laugh. "A convenient time for a doctor to see an injured fox is only after he's dead." Glaring at the chief, Nick dared him to dispute his claim. "My brother lay for hours waiting to be seen while gurgling his own blood while his lungs slowly filled up. In my dreams, I can still hear his pained whines and whimpers as he lay there dying. I can still see his eyes occasionally flutter open and glance around the busy hallway, hoping against hope that someone would save him. The despair on his face when he realized no one was coming. He couldn't even speak my name. I sat there and cried for hours after he died before a doctor showed up and yelled at him for bleeding all over the floor and then at me for simply existing. You should have seen the bill they sent my mom, and the long list of bogus items they charged her with. I had to leave home a week after my 12th birthday because my mom could no longer afford to feed me."

Nick leaned forward over Bogo's desk and snarled, "So don't tell me about getting a legitimate job, because when it comes to foxes—There. Are. None."

Bogo had no words to say. The venom in the todd's voice and the pain and rage in his eyes spoke of a lifetime of abuse, humiliation, and suffering. How could he possibly calm Wilde down? Nothing he could say would make things right.

Judy watched Nick's heavy breathing for several heartbeats as her brain finally wrapped itself around his harsh words. She knew something bad had happened to both his dad and brother, but the truth was more tragic than she ever imagined. How could life be so cruel to one mammal? To a whole species, for it was obvious that Nick's case wasn't an isolated incident. And for it to have happened over and over again to her kind, considerate, and loving fox who had such a beautiful and warm soul—it just broke her heart all the more. But seeing how much love and care he still had after all the horrors and injustice he and his family had faced—it made her love for the handsome, caring todd—her foxy boyfriend—swell all the more. Which was a bit strange feeling—her heart breaking on the one paw while swelling with love on the other.

Wiping at the tears making tracks down her beautiful face, she reached a paw over and rested it gently on his arm. "Nick?" she spoke softly.

Nick's ears immediately fell back, then he deflated as he slumped back against the chair. With a heavy breath, he ran his paws over his face, then glanced at Judy. "Sorry, Fluff, but that hit a raw nerve."

Shaking her head, Judy ran her paw through the silky fur of his arm as she tried to calm him down. "It's okay, Nick, I'd be infuriated too if that happened to my family." Nick nodded, but before he could say anything in response, Judy leaned forward to whisper in his ear. "I'll make it up to you tonight." Nick's ear flicked and she added, "Ear rubbing and throat scratching."

Nick's anger vanished as a smile broke across his muzzle. "Add a tummy rub," he whispered back, "and I'm there."

Judy's ears turned a slight shade pinker, but she nodded, and said softly, "It's a deal."

As Judy sat properly in her seat once more, Nick cocked his head to grin at her, his tail wagging happily beside her. "I'll hold you to it then."

Bogo sat stunned. He'd half expected the angry vulpine to storm out of his office, but Hopps' ability to calm him down was staggering. Wilde was a fox, a predator, a very angry predator, and she was a bunny, his ancient food source and yet he deflated with just a touch and a word from her. And now, with just a few whispered words, his anger was gone—not suppressed—gone. Just what kind of hold did she have over the fox?

As the two turned back around to face him, Bogo studied their close interactions once more. From what he'd seen personally of foxes, they disliked people getting in their personal space and hated people touching their tails. And yet Wilde didn't have any problems with Hopps invading his space and even wrapped his tail around her. That nagging suspicion tried to surface again, but he studiously squashed it. I don't care. I don't care. I don't care.

Meeting Wilde's much happier gaze, he asked (and he was careful with his wording), "Can you . . . please . . . explain how you own a house?"

Nick's smile slipped and he sighed. Folding his arms across his chest, he looked at the wall a moment, then turned back to Bogo and said, "I didn't buy the house, it was gifted to me."

Bogo's ears laid back. "Gifted? To a fox?" Seeing Wilde's ears disappear and a hard glint enter his eyes, Bogo raised a hoof in a hold-on motion and explained, "I'm not doubting you. It's just not something that happens very often."

Nick's ears resumed their normal position and he snorted. "Tell me about it." At Bogo's raised eyebrow, Nick continued, "Honey was an angel of mercy, a literal saint."

"Honey?" Bogo asked in surprise. He knew of a badger who had called herself Honey, but it couldn't possibly be the same mammal.

"Yes, Honey." With a smug smirk, Nick added, "I'm sure you knew her. Maige Badgersen."

Bogo's eyes grew wide and he pointed to the fox, exclaiming, "You're the rumored fox she took in and raised!"


WingedKatt here. So what did you think of this first part of the meeting with Bogo? Who knew that one simple question could dig up so much tragedy? Next chapter, Nick will bring up more of his past with some unexpected results. Once Bogo is thru with his questions, Nick has several questions of his own that need answered.

Chapter 33: Humble Pie and Immunity, will post on Wednesday.

If you have any thoughts, comments, or questions I'd love to here them. Have a great weekend.