Judy was ushered out of Nick and Jack's home with the bemused buck moments after finishing her last bite. Nick had remained tight-lipped on the topic of Marcelle through the meal and Jack had been no more helpful when he returned to the kitchen. The buck was wearing a lovely grey suit and a tie that made his eyes pop. She could see why his classes were so popular, especially when he was doing a lot of writing on the board.

Between the rigors of his discipline and the cut of his suit, Judy found herself wishing he would precede her a little more often as they walked. It was a nice view. A view that spurred a few thoughts that Judy had been muddling through since she had seen the buck and his housemate interacting.

They got a couple blocks from the house on Safflower Lane before Judy couldn't contain herself.

"So, um, Jack… I was wondering…"

"About my relationship with Nicky?"

The familiarity of the endearment and the ease with which he predicted her question led her to a simple conclusion. "A common question, I see."

"Somewhat, yes." Jack chuckled. "We are aware that we have what some might call an atypical dynamic."

"Two males living alone together, different species… It does fit a stereotype or two," Judy commented.

"Or six," the buck agreed. "We're artists, so the whole bohemian lifestyle is somewhat presumed, regardless."

"So, you aren't together?" the doe asked, unable to quell her curiosity.

"My dear Miss Hopps, you will only get equivocations from me unless you dispense with dancing around the point. Just ask. The worst I'll do is refuse to answer."

"Are you and Nick lovers?" she asked raid fire, hoping that getting the words out faster would lessen the embarrassment of asking such a personal question.

"No," he replied. "That much I can say with certainty."

Judy's nose twitched at the unexpected response. "With certainty?"

Jack smirked and smiled at his younger companion. "Yes. With certainty."

"Oh." She nodded slowly in response to his words, obviously still unsatisfied by what she'd learned so far. Jack simply waited for her to continue the current line of questioning. "You act very familiar with each other. I've never seen mammals so comfortable with each other that weren't in a long-term relationship."

"You still haven't," he confirmed and watched as her ears rose into the air.

"Wait. What?"

"Nicky and I are in a long-term relationship," Jack stated, clarifying nothing at all.

"I'm confused."

He arched a brow in her direction as they paused at an intersection. "Friendship is a type of relationship, Miss Hopps."

Judy gave the hare a flat look. "You're being pedantic."

"Professor," Jack said with a wink and continued walking.

Judy rolled her eyes and smiled. "So, you aren't sleeping together."

"No. Not that I'd mind if we did."

That statement stopped Judy in her tracks. She stood there blinking, watching the buck continue at his same pace, completely at ease. He'd made such an admission as easily as he might comment on the weather. There was no humor in it, so she knew he wasn't just saying that to ruffle her fur and he didn't seem annoyed or forced in any way. It was a simple truth, spoken simply. Mentally shaking herself, she trotted to catch up with him.

"I know I didn't mishear you and I know you aren't pulling my leg."

"Bit difficult to pull your leg when you're walking on it." He gave the briefest of glances to her lower extremities before returning his gaze forward.

The young doe huffed in frustration, narrowing her amethyst gaze at the source of her annoyance. "Are you always this difficult?"

"Only when it comes to topics other mammals take seriously, which I do not." Judy's confused stare earned a small chuckle from him. "Ask the question, Miss Hopps."

"Why do you keep calling me that when I told you Judy is fine?"

Now, Jack did laugh openly. "Well played, my dear. I will reward you with two answers. One, I called you that to get a rise out of you. It's a good way to get people to relax a bit. Two, I was genuinely serious. I wouldn't say no if Nick offered."

"You're gay?" Judy half asked, half stated.

"I didn't say that."

"I… I don't understand."

"Is it really that surprising?" Jack prompted. "He's an exceptional mammal. I'd be exceptionally pleased if he wanted me to go to bed with him."

"Me too," Judy muttered, quietly.

"I know." In response to Judy's ears flopping down, red as beet roots, Jack continued. "Don't get embarrassed, now. You started this conversation to gauge your chances with him and find out if he's already taken by me."

"Which he isn't," Judy stated.

"Which he isn't," Jack echoed.

Judy paced along with the self-satisfied hare for a few more moments before her irritation caught up with her. "Alright, fine. You aren't gay, but you'd bed him in a heartbeat. How does that work?"

"You're finally ready to ask the real questions! Congratulations on getting over yourself," cheered Jack.

Her shoulders stiffened with indignation. "That was a mean thing to say."

"It's not intended to be," he assured, returning somewhat to the familiar role of professor. "Mammals tend to get hung up on themselves. It keeps them from actually doing what they want and asking what they need to."

"And you got over yourself?"

"I had to," Jack affirmed. "It was a very liberating experience."

"Liberating…"

"Very. I don't take myself seriously, so I don't have all the egotistical baggage that comes with it."

"And when did this happen?"

"Ah-ah." Jack held up a finger. "That is a topic for another time. Right now, you want to know how I can claim to not be gay and still be ok with having an interest in Nicky, yes?" Judy nodded. "I've knows Nick since we were kits. He's special and I know it. I adore him and his art is an absolute addiction for me. So, what it comes down to is… I accepted that. I love his art and he is special to me."

"That's a little confusing." Judy pondered. "Wait. Is this part of the whole "getting over yourself" thing?"

"In part. One of the effects of that was accepting that my sexuality includes attraction to mammals I find mentally stimulating. He is absolutely one of them. Another is the understanding that I am myself. Labels are for other people's benefit, not mine, so I don't bother with them. I like what I like. I leave the classification to those that can spare the time for such things while I enjoy my life."

"That… does sound liberating…"

Jack nodded and gave the rabbit an understanding smile. "Hang-ups are a lot easier to deal with when they live in a box and wear a ball gag."

Judy sputtered and then laughed. It was possibly the last thing she expected to hear from the lips of a posh, well-mannered, older buck. "I get the feeling this is special treatment. Why are you treating me like a friend?"

"Because Nick told me to take you to see Marcelle. He doesn't often indulge himself in letting people in, so arranging an introduction like this means he likes you. At least, he's willing to take a chance on you," Jack added.

Struggling to keep her thoughts off of her face, Judy tried not to focus only on the "he likes you" portion of Jack's words. Instead she tried to buy herself some time, and a bit more clarification. "What does that mean?"

"It means you've impressed him, somehow. Don't ask me to explain. Even I don't understand him completely. Suffice to say that he thinks you're someone worth knowing. If you want to know more, you'll have to ask him."

With that cryptically unhelpful idea rattling around her head Judy found herself brought up short from her ruminations. Jack had stopped walking in front of an unprepossessing door on a boring side street and grabbed her shoulder so she wouldn't wander off. The only indication that this particular door and street were in any was noteworthy was a small, bronze placard next to the door, reading "Marcelle's" in a copperplate script.

Jack's voice was almost reverent as he said, "We're here."

Inside the door, Judy found a space that made her artist's senses tingle. "Bohemian chic" was the closest term she managed to find to fit it. Texture and color abounded on every surface and the furniture looked like it had come from a dozen decades and cultures. It was a chaos of form and texture. Somehow, it was the most relaxing room she had ever entered.

The lighting was soft and romantic, courtesy of dozens of well places sconces along the walls that were supplemented by strategically placed spotlights. Under her paws the dark, rich wooden flooring was perfectly smooth and led the way to multiple seating spaces set at irregular intervals. Each appeared to have a theme, though what exactly that was only the designer could have said. While the room was not overly large, the design created a perfect flow for both private and public conversations. It reminded Judy of pictures she had seen of grand salons from past centuries.

Reclining on a chaise was a corsac fox in his late-twenties. He was dressed in tights and a poet shirt. Judy was certain he had stepped off the cover of a terrible pirate romance novel. Before she could pull herself together enough to ask Jack what was happening, the buck walked over and addressed him.

"Andre. Good to see you."

"It's been a while, Jack," replied the corsac as he rose elegantly from his seat.

"I know. I know. Weeks." The males shared a small laugh and kissed cheeks before turning to her. "This is Judy Hopps."

"Enchanted." The corsac extended his paw and Judy took it. Adding to the sense of surreality, the todd kissed the back of her paw instead of shaking it. "To what do we owe the introduction?"

Jack smiled. "We're here to get the young lady acquainted with Marcelle. Nick sent us."

"Ah. I'll fetch him." Then, turning to Judy with quiet enthusiasm, he said, "Welcome."

As soon as the fox was through the rather heavy looking, golden door across the room, Judy turned to her companion. "Is this where I meet the caterpillar with the hooka?"

Jack laughed, musically. "This is a special place, Judy. Think of it as a start to understanding what you're getting yourself in to."

"I'm not sure how to feel about that," Judy murmured as she spied a rather lovely print of Boartecelli's 'Primavera' hanging on wall beside Paul Sign'yak's 'The Demolisher'

"Yes, you do," the buck stated knowingly. "This is a little taste of Nick's world. Marcelle and Andre are good friends to us. They're eccentric, yes, but nothing when it comes to Nick. If you can't handle these two, you should limit your time with Nick to the three weeks you agreed to and no more."

"I think I'm offended by that."

"More likely scared, but that's pedantic," Jack rejoined with a wink.

"I don't get you. You seemed encouraging on the way over here, but now it feels like you're trying to put me off."

"Not at all." He flashed her a smile, though she couldn't decipher the look in his eyes. "I want you to understand. The rest is up to you." Soft paw-falls were heard coming towards the door from the other side and Jack dropped his voice. "For what it's worth, I hope you stay."

Judy was about to reply when the door swung wide. Her eyes were pulled up, expecting Andre, or another larger mammal, but there was nothing to see.

"Ahem."

The cough drew Judy's eyes down to her chest level where she wondered how oblivious she could possibly be. Standing before her was the most ostentatiously dressed echidna she'd ever seen. The silk scarf around its head was the dullest garment it wore and would have made a blind mammal flinch. Judy discovered she'd lost her capacity for speech, which didn't seem to matter.

"This is the protégé?" the flamboyantly dressed mammal addressed to no one in particular.

So, the echidna was male. For his small stature and effete dress, his presence was commanding. Judy felt a peculiar desire to stand straighter and salute.

As she floundered, Jack took up the thread of conversation. "She is the model. Nick sent her here with me, Marcelle."

That got a sharply inquiring look from the marsupial, which Jack returned with a nod. "Where does that fox find them?" Marcelle grumbled. "No matter. Come!"

Judy's paw was unceremoniously grabbed and she was all but dragged along. The last she saw of Jack for some time was an amused smirk and a paw wave before he vanished behind the gilded door.

The rest of the building that Judy saw was essentially like the first room. Eclectic furniture and décor arranged in relaxing, very pleasing ways. She felt totally at ease in the place, aside from not having a clue about where she was going, or why. A hurried traipse down two halls led Judy through another door into a room of dark colors and lighting with a massage table in the center.

When she was released she tried to speak again but was hushed by a paw landing expertly on her muzzle. "Hush. You are not here to speak. You are here to experience. Now, we have three hours. You will not make a fuss."

Judy removed the paw from her person and stepped back. "Three hours for what, exactly?"

"You are not overwhelmed for long. This is good." Marcelle smiled at her defensive stance and guarded expression. "You are here to experience Marcelle's."

"Marcelle's what?" she drawled suspiciously.

"Marcelle's, little rabbit. Not Marcelle," he emphasized with a huff before he turned to go, headscarf flapping dramatically behind him. "Annabelle will join you in a moment. You will make yourself nude while you wait and leave the rest to her."

"And who is Annabelle?" Judy asked, paws on her hips.

"A masseuse who, like me, prefers males." The echidna paused just long enough to smirk at her over his shoulder. "So, your virtue is safe."

'Uhhuh…"

The distrust in her voice stopped him in the door. "It was Judy, yes?" She nodded in response. "Do you truly believe Jack would bring you here if it was not safe? Or Mister Wilde? I understand this is strange to you, but that is why you are here. Now, make yourself ready. Annabelle comes."

Of course, that was when Judy's phone chimed, indicating a received text message. Marcelle's reaction was immediate and brooked no argument. "That. Off. Now."

Not daring to look until the echidna was calm again, Judy pulled it out, silenced it and shut it down without looking at the screen.

"This is your first visit to Marcelle's, so you are forgiven, but those electronic leashes you people insist on enslaving yourselves to are not welcome here. They will be off or remain at your home in the future. Yes?"

Judy nodded vigorously.

"Excellent."

The door closed behind the proprietor with no further fanfare and Judy sucked in a long breath. She hadn't realized she'd been holding it. With the door to the room closed, Judy was left with nothing but her thoughts. She had no reason to trust these new mammals, but neither did she have reason to distrust Jack or Nick. In the absence of any better reasoning, she trusted her instincts and, very uncertainly, disrobed.

On a chair in the corner of the room, she discovered a lush robe, very similar to the one Nick had let her use during her modeling that day. Once Judy was out of her clothes, she exchanged them for the robe and swaddled herself. The cloth was thick and smelled of lavender. Moments after she was enrobed, she was joined by a middle-aged caracal bearing a tray. On said tray was a plate of fresh fruit so ripe it was crying, a bowl of warm, damp towels, a small glass of champagne, and a low goblet of rosewater jelly.

With a matronly smile the felid set her burden down and said, "Let's see if I can work out the stress those boys have no doubt caused you."

Three and a half hours later, Judy and Jack arrived back at the house on Safflower Lane. Jack looked somewhat more devil-may-care for his visit to his favorite respite, while Judy appeared to be more liquid than rabbit. She had walked into Marcelle's uncertain and anxious. She walked out with a new friend or two and languid enough to make a feline jealous. Once she had gotten over her uncertainty, she'd enjoyed treats and pampering unlike anything she had experienced before. Annabelle hadn't relaxed her so much as tenderized her from ears to toes. Parts had been painful as the more severe knots had been addressed, but the end result was well worth it.

She made her way after Jack and into Nick's bemused gaze as though dreaming.

"I see you enjoyed yourself," Nick cooed over a cup of tea.

"She had Annabelle," Jack supplied.

"Lucky doe!"

"Indeed. She did ask after you, you know; wondering when you'll be visiting her, again." An indecipherable look passed between the two males. Not that Judy was paying much attention to such details.

"After tonight, I think I will."

Jack stopped his paws as they lifted down a mug for himself. "Really?"

"Really," Nick confirmed with a nod.

Judy was so engrossed in the little cup and saucer in front of her as Nick filled it that she missed Jack's glance her way. "Are you sure?"

Nick however did not miss the look and returned it with one of his own. "I am hopeful."

"Happy day!" Jack chortled.

His vessel filled, the buck gave Judy a quick hug and lifted his mug in salute to his housemate on his way to wherever he vanished to when Judy wasn't looking.

"I'd ask how your afternoon went, but I can see it plainly," the todd turned back to the young doe. "Ready to get back to work?" He asked as he rose from the table and began making his way towards the studio.

Judy stood to follow and grinned cheekily at him. "I hope you don't expect a lot from me this afternoon."

"What I expect is that you will pose for me on that chaise lounge with your teacup. Just relax and get comfortable."

"That I can do."

With her cup and saucer in paw, Judy moved to the indicated piece of furniture and arranged herself. Her clothes came off with much less hesitation than they had earlier in the day and the pose she took was much easier to settle in to. In truth, she felt like she draped herself upon it more than posed. When a chill crept up on her, she instinctively grabbed the corner of a crocheted afghan nearby and draped it over her lower half.

Realizing that it may have been presumptuous of her, she started to remove it only to have Nick stop her with a raised paw, saying, "Don't. It's perfect." Smiling to herself, Judy shimmied herself a little lower on the chaise and propped herself up on her side before resting her cup and saucer on her thigh.

This time, Judy noticed, Nick was not sketching, but settling behind a blob of clay roughly the size of both his fists. A little thrill ran through her at the thought of a Wilde using her as the subject; capturing her in sculpture. Running his paws all over her...

Before she could sink too deep into that daydream, Nick asked, "How did you find Marcelle's?"

"Jack took me there, remember?" she retorted before good sense could catch up to her tongue.

"I see it relaxed you enough to let out the wit you were hiding. Good…" Nick chuckled.

What followed could arguably be called 'work' as far as Judy was concerned. As relatively undemanding as her morning session had been, somehow the afternoon session was even less demanding of her effort. She felt it to be a rather cathartic experience, as well. Sitting mostly still and sipping her tea while sporadically chatting was an easy task. One made significantly easier by the company.

Conversation ebbed and flowed depending on how intent Nick was on whatever it was he was doing. It was obvious that he was making a concerted effort to stay engaged with her, both to make her comfortable and to alleviate the possibility of boredom. Small, periodic adjustments to her position were interspersed with jokes, or simple queries to keep a rapport going. That said, as the time slipped by, Nick was increasingly focused on the clay and less on her. That gave Judy a chance to do what very few mammals had a chance to do: watch a master artist work.

It was a fascinating experience to her. If she had to use a word to describe him as he worked it was 'cute'; part childlike openness, part rapacious focus. Quick glances at her were followed by deft movements from his experienced paws, either bare, or with various tools. Nothing she hadn't seen hundreds of times from watching other artists, but somehow this was different. There was an ease and fluidity she did not believe was common. His paws moved with a simple, unrushed certainty.

As slow as his movements seemed, they never stopped and he progressed with startling rapidity. Part of it was that he seldom had to look as he reached for anything. He knew exactly where every tool was and precisely what he needed. It was a setup that many artists strived for. That led Judy to observe the fox's surroundings and work space. Bowls with damp sponges and rags were scattered around with cups and pots holding clay forming implements and miscellaneous bits. She had no idea why he had a metal spatula and a long chisel in the same container as a fake rose and a broken back scratcher, but it really wasn't her business.

Judy did her best to let him work and not move, but she itched to see more of what he was creating. Part of this was due to vanity; after all, how often did one get to be immortalized by the Nick Wilde? But largely, she felt as though, somehow, if she could remain in his presence long enough she might be able to capture a touch of that surety of movement for herself. When she created her art, it was never such a smooth process. There were fits and starts where she needed to clean brushes or gather new materials, interrupting her own flow. Watching Nick, she knew that upon returning to the studio she would need to make some changes before touching her pallet and brushes.

Sooner rather than later her teacup was empty, though she continued to hold it, balancing it lightly on her thigh as she gazed intently at her employer. The blob of clay had taken form beneath Nick's paws until she could almost feel it molding itself to his will. Gentle, yet insistent, paws pressed, smoothed, scraped, tortured and tormented the mound into a recognizable form; rather like Annabelle had manipulated her own muscles earlier.

That thought sparked something in Judy and her ears perked. It was not that Nick was beating the clay into submission as many artists tried to do. He was working on it as it were a living thing, something that would respond just as readily to a tender stroke as a hard slap; a conversation, almost.

As that realization dawned, so did the knowledge that the tea had gone through her like a sieve.

"Nick? I, um, need a break."

Without looking up, the fox replied, "Go ahead. I'll just finish up."

"Where is the…"

Her words were cut off as a clay-smeared paw lifted and pointed towards a small door on the opposite side of the studio space. Rising a bit stiffly, Judy looked for a clock, but didn't find one. What she did find was the sun low on the horizon. Grabbing the robe, she had used earlier and slipping it on, Judy hastened to the washroom.

Emerging a few minutes later, she felt much more comfortable, but was slightly confused as she was now alone. After a quick check, Judy was certain she was the only mammal in the room. Shrugging, she fixed her robe and traipsed over to the work table Nick had been using to see how far he'd gotten, which was where he found her upon his return.

"Like what you see?"

Judy wanted to speak, but found it a little difficult.

The sculpture was small, but painfully detailed. Somehow conveying relaxation and curiosity, as well as a little mischievousness in the form of a little smirk. The teacup was there, resting on her leg above the afghan, held daintily by a paw. Her ears were splayed over the arm of the chaise and she was looking straight at her as if daring somemammal to ask what she was up to. It was nothing like what Judy had presumed she had looked like and she found herself very quickly losing her cool.

The word to describe the semi-bare form was sensuous. Maybe teasing or alluring. Not how Judy saw herself in any way shape or form. The fact that Nick saw her that way in, what she'd thought of as, a languorous pose was, frankly, a huge turn on and embarrassing as hell.

"I'm fairly pleased with it so far," he continued, seemingly unaware of her discomfort.

Judy found her voice enough to mumble, "It's beautiful."

"It's a start. As rough drafts go, it's a good foundation. When I scale up, it'll be more detailed."

Judy couldn't stop herself from spouting, "How?!"

"More detail in the expression and fur; the weave of the throw blanket. I can do better." Misunderstanding her stricken expression, Nick was quick to add. "Nothing on you, I promise, my dear! It's a matter of my skill, not your presentation. That was… delicious." Nick, who was momentarily lost in that place artists sometimes go, shook himself and smiled at her. "Scaled up, there will be so much more I can do. For now, this is a good piece. I think it made the cut."

With her continuity of thought shredded, there was only one thing she could find to ask. "What will you name it?"

Here was the telling on whether he had intentionally made her look quite so coquettish, or simply been recreating what he had seen. It was a lovely piece of work, but she had known plenty of artists who were unable to even remember what their subject had looked like after their work was done. It was a fugue state, according to Doctor Moskowitz, and not uncommon. Her employer may well have missed everything he had seen in favor of the clay.

"Serene mischief, I think," the todd replied, offering a self-satisfied nod after a moment.

So much for that.

Judy barely remembered her trip back to her apartment. Between the aftereffects of Marcelle's and the end of her afternoon session, she was pooped emotionally and physically. Autopilot was a wonderful thing, she mused to herself as her feet carried her home by rote.

The little 'snack' she had been sent off with did nothing to help matters. What Nick and Jack considered a snack she would have called a gustatory revelation. The sandwich was a salad on a homemade bun, dressed in something that should be on the list of banned substances. She tried so hard to make it last, but she found she was starving.

With the dining hall closed, her sandwich was all she was going to have until she could scrounge something from the pantry. It was an unappealing prospect after such a day of delights. Exquisite cuisine versus college grub... Judy knew which she preferred. Her traveling treat vanished long before she made it home.

Arriving home, Judy noticed from the microwave in the kitchen that it was after 8 o'clock; later than she had expected, but not horrible. She traipsed her way to the refrigerator and collected a carrot water before insinuating herself onto the sofa beside an extremely nervous Amanda Hopps.

"Hey, Sis! Good day?"

Judy hummed in response and sipped her drink. "A very good day. Why do you ask?"

"You know I was just joking, then, right?" Nervousness colored the other doe's words.

"This morning? Yeah. I know."

"This mo- Judy when was the last time you looked at your phone?" Amanda was genuinely worried. Judy was one of her most intense and vivacious siblings; energetic almost to the point of mania. Seeing her so relaxed was… Unnerving. And she was never without access to her phone.

"Around one this afternoon?" Judy gave a vague guess accompanied by a shrug. "I dunno. Marcelle made me turn it off."

"Marcelle?" Amanda parroted. "Who's Marcelle?"

"An absolutely fabulous echidna who has a… salon? Spa? Something like that. Nick sent me there today."

Amanda's brain seized at what she was hearing. "Wait, wait, wait.. Marcelle, as in Marcelle Triomphe?" Judy only shrugged, so Amanda elaborated. "Hugely bright wardrobe? Usually wears a headscarf? Commanding presence?"

The violet-eyed doe saluted her sister with her half empty bottle. "That's him!"

"You went to his spa?" Amanda squealed, causing Judy to wince at the high pitch in her sister's voice. "What organs did you sell to pull that off?"

That got Judy's attention. "Come again?"

"Is that what did this to you? Did that fox bang the brains out of you for real?" Full of righteous fury, Amanda was already on her paws and looked fit to start a war.

Now, Judy was completely awake. "Where on earth are you getting that from?"

"Judy, Marcelle's spa is one of the hardest places to get into in the city. The waiting list is two months long at the best of times and I know you didn't make an appointment."

"No, we just walked in."

"You walked in," Amanda sputtered in disbelief.

Judy nodded slowly. "Yeah, we walked in. What's the problem?" She had no idea why her sister was in such a tizzy, but knew there was no way she would let it go until she got an answer.

"It must be nice dating a buck with those kinds of connections…"

Judy pinched the bridge of her muzzle. This was getting old. "I'm not dating anyone!"

"Sure," Ammy huffed. "That's why you went there with Professor Jack Savage, of all mammals."

"What? No!" Scrunching her nose, Judy made a face at her sister.

"I was worried about you having a thing for the fox, not that I'd blame you, but seeing you with the Prof was really a shock."

"You…" A sneaking suspicion crept over Judy. "You called mom."

"Not called so much as texted?" Finally noting the murderous look on Judy's face, Ammy realized her sister was more than just annoyed this time around. "Oh, come on, Judy. I saw you with him and I couldn't help it!"

"You wanted to give mom and dad a little hope that I was going to settle down, huh? What did you send?"

"Just a pic and it wasn't like that!"

"Uhhuh…"

Judy pulled out her phone and powered it up. When the startup sequence finished and the service connected, Judy understood why Ammy was so nervous when she sat down. If she'd been any less relaxed, she'd have been furious. 404 texts, eleven phone calls, six muzzletime requests and 88 furbook posting notifications tagging her.

Judy sighed and started tapping through to call her mother. The first ring didn't even finish.

"Judy! Thank gods! The buck you were with what's his name? Where's he from? How long have you been together?"

Judy jumped in when her mother paused to take a breath. "I'm not dating him, mother," came the flat statement.

"What?"

"The hare in the picture Ammy sent you. We are not dating. Before you ask, no we aren't sleeping together for fun, either."

There was a moment of silence before Judy heard her mother's suggestion of, "You could try it." Ugh...

"One, I'm not interested. Two, he was very clear that he isn't interested in me like that. And three, I couldn't in either case because he's a professor at the university. A relationship with a student would get him fired on ethical grounds."

"You won't always be a student…"

"And he still wouldn't be interested in does, mom." Judy silently apologized to Jack.

"Oh…"

"Don't sound so disappointed, mom."

"Is it too much to hope you find a nice buck?" her mother asked. "After what happened with Tom…"

"Tom transferred for a better degree and the internship program at ZooTech. We weren't going to work long-term, anyway, and he's still a friend." How many times was she going to have to explain this to her family. As if once wasn't enough. Taking a breath, Judy tried to put a on a happy face for her mother. "I'll find a male eventually."

"Or a female. You know we don't judge."

Judy snorted softly into the phone. "You don't."

Bonnie sighed on the other end of the line. "You're father's an idiot, dear. I love him, but he's a farmer and you're his daughter."

"Nevermind that he has almost 200 of them."

"Just goes to show his level of devotion," Bonnie countered.

That made Judy smile. "Level of crazy, maybe."

"That too." Mother and daughter shared a quiet laugh. "Alright, Judy, I'll take care of the misunderstanding out here."

"Thanks, Mom. Tell Dad I send my love."

"I will. Goodnight, Bun-bun."

"Night." The call ended and Judy cleared her notification history. That was that. At least her mother could be a voice of reason for the mass of overreaction that was no doubt raging out at the Hopps Farmstead. The conversation had gone well, she thought. Until, of course she looked at her sister, again. "What?"

Amanda was staring at her with a combination of confusion and suspicion on her face. "Who are you and what have you done with Judy Hopps?"

"What."

"Are you sure you're ok? Normally, you'd be freaking out over something like this. You'd be threatening to shave my ears, at the least."

Her lips parted to issue a sharp retort, but Judy found herself unable to rip into her sister. Or, rather, not wanting to bother. After taking a long swallow of her carrot water she replied, "Maybe, I'm just getting over myself."

Late that night, Jack had finished work for the day on his latest sculpture and set down his tools. The welding torch was disconnected and the tanks secured; tongs, pliers, hammers and his massive welding gloves went to their respective places on or in his workbench. He was tired. He also was very pleased. Nick had been right. He'd needed a visit to Marcelle to unplug for a bit.

Chatting with Andre while he got his customary paw massage and claw treatment was a simple pleasure he'd denied himself for too long. As usual, he owed his housemate a kindness in turn. Not that they kept score, by any means. They'd given that up in grade school. The tally got too high for either of them to keep it straight. That wasn't to say Jack didn't feel indebted to his housemate in some ways. Too often Nick was the one who would accurately call him out on being in a rut.

Today was a prime example. The fox had been absolutely correct. He'd been stymied in his sculpting and allowed the frustration to build to the point of being toxic. The excursion, and in new company, had been just what Jack had needed. The proof of same lay in that his latest piece was now significantly further along than it had been that morning. It was more progress than he'd made in weeks. He definitely owed Nick a little something in turn.

Once he was out of his workshop clothes and in a suitably comfortable robe, Jack made his way to where he knew his closest friend would be and he found him just like clockwork. He was sitting on his little uncomfortable stool, staring alternately at the chaise where Judy had so recently reclined with the doe's presence rendered in clay on the work surface. Just as Jack had expected, Nick was fiddling with his wire clay-cutter.

"Still undecided?" the buck asked pointedly as he leaned on the work table.

"You know I'm not," Nick responded without looking up. There was no point, since he already knew that the buck's muzzle would be curled in a smile.

"I know. It's still amusing after all this time that you don't, though." As they spoke, Jack studied the unfinished work on the table.

"I know, but…"

"...but you can never quite believe it, can you?" The fox hung his head as he shook it. "Well, Nicky, isn't that one of the reasons you keep me around?"

"One of many, Jack. You know that."

"It's still nice to hear from time to time. So, what are you going to do, scrap it, or send it to the kiln?" In response, Nick held up the garotte-esque tool and Jack took it from his unresisting paw to set it aside. Then, he turned the same paw over and began rubbing gently at the fox's cheek. "So much praise and acclaim, but no self-confidence."

Nick leaned into the touch, gaze still fixed on the lump of shaped clay. There was the shape of the doe who had inspired it, texture to represent the weave of the afghan, and that sweet, taunting smile. But it was missing so much… "I can do better."

"And you will," Jack assured him. "But not until you get Miss Hopps back in the studio."

"I want to tie."

"Celeste and Skye need time to recover and your other muses are either in cram for midterms, or recovering as well."

"Vexing," the todd sighed.

"My offer still stands, Nick," Jack reminded his friend. He watched as Nick nodded his head, knowing that the offer would be refused. Again.

"I know it does."

The hare sighed softly. "I forgave you the moment it happened. You know it was nothing I didn't want."

Nick shook his head, tilting to smile wanly. "Permission before it happens, Jack. You know the rules better than anyone."

"And you know the price I want for letting you tie me, again," Jack stated.

A quiet chuckle and Nick sat up fully, finally pulling his thoughts back from the edge. "I don't think I can handle that tonight."

"Then, let's get showered and I'll put on Young Frankenswine, if you pick the wine."

"Deal!" Nick jumped at the opportunity to watch one of his favorite movies.

Shooing Nick out of the studio space, Jack deftly sliced the finished miniature from the work space and put it in a space Nick was not allowed to touch. Once it was safe, Jack tidied away a few of the tools and wiped the wire down. He slipped out the door with a fond look at the chaise and the memory of the one time he had modeled for the fox, flying above it.