Hello everyone, we're back :) :)
Hope you're all having an agreeable month of May – and thanks for stopping by to check out the latest chapter and to see how our heroes are getting by :)
Here we all are then, mid-May, new chapter out, and spring is here in earnest!
It is not because things are difficult that we do not dare,
it is because we do not dare that they are difficult.
Lucius Annaeus Seneca
Yes, spring was really here in earnest. The temperature climbed steadily day after day, the sun set later evening after evening – and there were so many flowers blooming all over town, in the parks and squares and folks' gardens, that a tangible sweet aroma would waft over the city of Zootropolis from dawn until the evening dew fell (at which point, if anything, the perfumed smell grew stronger than ever). Myriads of tiny daisies dotted the lawns here and there despite the efforts of urban gardeners mowing the grass regularly, and the lilac bushes' branches were heavy with clusters of the violet and white blossoms. The cherry trees were a mite late that year – but, while late, the amount of blooms seemed larger than ever, as if to compensate for this lapse. The cherry blossoms burst into bloom, lasted some days and even weeks, and then the petals came cascading down in swirly pink showers that would swoosh around and flutter down to the ground gently after completing their graceful little airborne dance.
Well, flutter to the ground, or all over the paperwork spread out on Nick's desk in front of him and even in his steaming coffee mug, as the case were. The fox swore under his breath, brushing the petals scattered across the documents away with a weary paw, and casting a woebegone glance at his beverage – nothing to do there, the coffee, though barely touched, would have to be replaced.
"Joys of the season – one sure feels like having a ball," Nick commented sarcastically – addressing only himself, as he was the sole occupant of the small office at that point – and raising his eyes to the open window. The scene that met his gaze would have softened many an irritated mammal though – it was a picture-perfect spring afternoon downtown. The sky was that soft shade of periwinkle blue it only gets on a warm May day following a night broken and washed out by intermittent stormy rains. The voices of children and young animals were drifting up from the sidewalks below as they called to one another in excitement – it was, after all, a Friday afternoon, with the promise of a week-end ahead – one of the first warm weekends of the year, perhaps even warm enough to break out the barbecue or sip a cool drink on the terrace.
And they actually had a terrace now, Nick remembered with a jolt of excitement – true, the house was not yet ready for them to actually move into. There remained that annoying phase to be gotten through, when one had to stuff all of one's belongings into bags, boxes and what not, drag the lot over to the new place of residence, and then spend ages sorting things out and putting everything in its proper place. That is, this phase had never bothered Nick before, on previous occasions he had had to move house. But he was pretty sure that his new housemate would be a stickler for having everything neat and organized.
"Ah well," the fox shrugged philosophically, getting up to dispose of his cherry-blossom-infested coffee. "Living with an order-obsessed fuzzy bunny could have its perks. At least you'll always know where your shirts and ties had been hung up to dry after laundry day." Because there would – he felt quite sure of this – be a dedicated area for the drying laundry. Just like there would be one for the kitchen scissors - and for the grass clippers – and for empty bottles waiting to be recycled – and for every single teensy detail. (One need only specify that this was most certainly not the case at Mister Nicholas Piberius Wilde's current residence – each article did not have a defined place – which often caused their owner to spend fifteen minutes or so hunting around for a functioning pen only to end up pulling a dessert spoon out of a dusty vase in one of the wall cupboards in surprise. Let us say no more on this painful subject.)
So he would end up forgetting what went where at first, and probably igniting the wrath of Miss Almighty Rabbit Hopps, Nick mused, as he set his now empty cup back on the desk and leaned his elbows on the back of a chair unhurriedly. It had to be endured – and it was well worth it, that was for sure. What with the penthouse – the view – the terrace, the garden – Nick pictured taking breakfast out in the sun every morning, as the sun rose over the metropolis and the city woke up little by little. Yes, coffee – a good espresso machine, he'd invest in one of those – no point drinking muck at such a five-star location – and breakfast. Nick wondered vaguely what his chances were at negotiating that Judy be the one who recuperated the cooking – if he agreed to do all the dishes – and how much he'd have left over to buy a dishwasher (thus rendering his part of the task simple) if he did buy an espresso machine.
He smirked, peering out into the streets below, as he pictured vividly what Judy's reaction to this proposal would be. 'It's not that I mind preparing the food Nick – but you should learn a sense of responsibility instead of being a slob of a flat mate, or else—' Yes, it would be something along those lines, without a doubt. The prospect, far from upsetting Nick, made him feel even more cheerful – he felt surprisingly that he greatly looked forward to these domestic spats that would undoubtedly take place in the little penthouse day in and day out – felt somehow that that part of the deal was even more enjoyable to anticipate than the view, or the garden – or the terrace.
And, as far as our record goes, that was the exact moment. Maybe it was all the fresh spring air that had something to do with it. Oh, it was not the moment when he knew really, let's be clear. What would have happened if Nick had known his own mind – or, more than that, the feelings that ran deeper than his mind – at that moment in time, one can only guess. Things could have played out very differently, that's for sure, because Nick might have taken some key decision at that time, had he known. He could have decided to pull out of the 'moving in together' plan altogether, who knows He could have panicked – feelings were not a very comfortable area for the fox, not one he relished to dwell in. Had he known - that's the critical bit though.
Nope, he didn't know. That is not what that moment was about – he didn't know then, but it will be stated for the record that that was the first moment when he had a small clue. That small thought, that picture of fighting with Judy about the repartition of duties at home – the bemused realization that he was moving in with his best friend – a rabbit – something he could never even have imagined some five years back – and, most of all, the happy anticipation of this event – it set off a tiny warning alarm at the back of Nick's mind. That's all, just the kind of small voice of warning one sometimes gets, a premonition, the 'do this and it could have hefty consequences' kind of sensation.
Nicholas sure had one of those premonitions at that exact point – it distracted him for a second, made him frown and try to grasp at that call of reason to sort out his train of thought – but then it was all cut off by a bang caused by some falling object he heard out in the common room, followed by a muffled exclamation from Clawhauser and a burst of laughter mingling the voices of several other ZPD officers.
Realizing with a jolt that there seemed to be a whole lot of fun going on on the other side of his office door – fun he was missing out on - Nick quickly slammed the window – to avoid any more petals finding their way in, or, heaven forbid, any of the pages of the report he had forced himself to fill in detailing his and Judy's intervention at Aquatica, flying out – and he rushed out to investigate the source of all the commotion. And that is why, that is how that moment of hazy realization that could have led to some important revelation remained just that – a small voice of warning that went unheard. A tiny whisper of an inner voice that tries to point out 'do this, and things might get out of paw down the line."
It went unheard.
And the plan of moving in together proceeded unhindered.
But that tiny millisecond in time – it was really the very first time Nick had a brush, only just a brush with some notion of the truth.
"It seems that being left out of all the fun is my destiny today," was how Nick greeted his colleagues as he arrived on the scene. "Being invited to join in is too much to ask nowadays?"
He shook his head in mock ruefulness at the other animals, who had greeted his arrival in the common room with a general round of excited chatter and laughter.
"Pull up a chair Wilde," Francine the elephant exclaimed heartily.
"What for? Cards have already been dealt, I see," Nick replied, peering around the circle of officers, who indeed each had his or her set of cards at hand. "One can really see this is the day Old Chief Buffalo had to go down to City Hall for his round of reports."
"What Bogo doesn't know can't hurt him," McHorn the rhino agreed happily, readjusting his cards. "Besides, it's Friday and the week's files have been handed in – we're allowed to chill a bit once in a blue moon."
"You're preaching to the choir pal," Nick returned, as he sidled behind Judy to observe her cards, since he had arrived too late to be dealt a hand himself. "How you doing Officer Fluff?"
Judy had been schooled pretty well by Nick as far as poker and the kind went – she could hold her own without shame when they got to have a game with the other ZPD officers. This time however, she clutched her cards grimly and made a small grimace at Nick behind her paw.
"Bad hand?" he asked sympathetically, dropping his voice dramatically so that the others could not hear – luckily with Judy's incredible ears, you could drop your volume as low as it went, and she still heard you perfectly.
The rabbit merely allowed him to have a look, while screening her cards from the other playing animals.
Nick had to hold back a whistle.
"OK. Really bad hand Miss," he confirmed in a whisper, slipping onto the humongous chair next to his partner. "At least you know what the good news is."
"What is the good news?" Judy whispered back, tearing her morose gaze off her cards to look at Nick in surprise.
The fox gave her a cheery wink.
"Unlucky in cards means lucky in love Madam – thought even bunnies knew as much."
"Har har," Judy rolled her eyes in exasperation, turning back to concentrate on the game.
"Come on, you know it's true – you need only call your parents tonight and ask for Mister Harry-the-Hare's number, and I am sure that before autumn rolls in you could be planning your nuptials—"
"If you aren't going to help," Judy hissed, after kicking her friend smartly under the table, "then you can just—"
"I'll help, keep your ears on," Nick returned laughingly.
"Shall we start the bets at a buck then?" Clawhauser asked from the other end of the table, his voice muffled a bit by the ever-present donut.
"Five!" Nick readily shot back, before Judy had a chance to open her mouth.
"Are you nuts?" she asked him in a furious, albeit hushed tone. "I can't afford to throw down challenging bets."
"Sure you can," Nick murmured back, his gaze fixed on her cards in concentration. "You still have a lot to learn Carrots."
"Such as?" Judy asked, rolling her eyes.
"Such as that playing a good hand well is easy, and therefore, no real success. But getting dealt a dreadful hand and playing it out well – now that's about a hundred times more satisfying."
Judy had to smile.
"More of your streetwise philosophy Mister Wilde?" she asked, shaking her head. "Alright then, I am all ears – no pun intended. I get a bad hand, I make outrageous bets – what's the next step?"
"Lay your jack of spades down in the first round," Nick instructed her quietly, scanning all her cards again. Judy had to blink.
"Are you insane? That's the highest card I've got!"
"Exactly," Nick's eyes were gleaming with merry anticipation. "Cards – like hustling – is all aboput successful bluffing Carrots. Lay it down as if you've got a hand full of aces to spare, hold your head up high and shrug like you couldn't care less."
"You're paying me back half if I lose," Judy muttered finally, selecting the jack and preparing to lay it down when her turn came.
"You're buying me sometea cakes with half your winnings," Nick murmured back, rubbing his paws under the table ecstatically, as their turn neared.
"Whatever," Judy replied, smiling a bit at his enthusiasm. "This is how one is always supposed to play then?"
"Bluffing is the only way to play," Nick told her sternly. "Remember that Miss Hopps. Bid like you've not a care in the world—"
"Nor one year to pay back a loan for an entire building before getting kicked out—"
"—especially when playing with animals you know," Nick added. "I am amazed you aren't using what you know about our dear fellow officers to help you out. You're not the only one to have been dealt a bad hand – our donut-obsessed cheetah has one hell of a bad one too."
"How on earth do you know that?" Judy asked him, startled.
The fox cupped a paw to her ear to make sure no one else heard.
"Are you kidding Carrots? He's like an open book, you can read everything on his face. Not to mention the fact that he tried to pull the bets down to a dollar at once – he's worried he'll come out last."
"I hadn't even thought of it that way," Judy said, humbled.
"Observation Miss, it's all in the observation," Nick told her, grinning. "Don't worry, you've called on the expert. Now, pay attention. Here comes your turn. The jack of spades then – and pretend like you're hesitating carelessly first, like you've got so many high cards, you don't know which one to choose."
"Got it," Judy replied, cards on the ready, shoulders squared, violet eyes shining.
"I can't believe we won fifty dollars!" Judy was hopping up and down, as the two friends made it back to their office, elated from their win. "I was dealt such a horrible hand out in the first round – I thought I was a goner!"
"You're welcome," Nick said smugly, throwing himself down in his desk chair and propping his feet up on the corner of their desk. "Like I said, all it takes is attitude. And we only won fifty bucks because we were kind enough to limit the losses of our dear fellow officers – I could have had the lot of them going back home in their underpants tonight, if all betting limits were off."
"You were really good," Judy told him fairly, her ears twitching happily. "Really."
"Experience," Nick replied laconically, acknowledging the thanks with a nod and a smile. "Don't forget, half of those winnings are mine Carrots!"
"I won't," Judy assured him. "In fact, we can pass by a teashop or something on the way back from work – and I'll buy you all the cake you want, as agreed. I did only win thanks to you after all."
"They're supposed to sell some sort of new coconut and white chocolate pie in that delicatessen place out on East and seventh," Nick said brightly, sitting up straight in his chair, his ears perking up at the thought.
"Do you mean Piggish Delight out in Sahara?" Judy asked, as she carefully placed the dollar bills they'd won in her wallet. "Sure, why not? And while we're there – well, it's just next to –"
"Our new home sweet home?" Nick grinned. "Yeah, I wanted to stop by there too for a closer look than we got last time – start figuring out what stuff I'll have to get rid of before moving out of my place and what stuff I'll keep."
"It's settled then," Judy said buoyantly. "Let the week-end begin then! That is – provided the paperwork is done—"
"Ah, that," Nick pulled a face.
"Nick, come on now – it was your turn," Judy said in exasperation. "Don't tell me you've—" she reached for the papers that had remained spread out on the desk to glance over them. "Oh," she said after a pause, "You were just winding me up, weren't you? You actually finished these? Except this one then – what's this?"
"That would be the one detailing our little outing in Aquatica," the fox replied nonchalantly. "I was not sure what you wanted to put down in terms of justification as to why we actually went there in the first place – I thought somehow that 'being tipped off by a mafia boss to go check out another suspected mafia boss and having to comply because we received a money loan from the former to pay for real estate' might somehow risk peaking the ole buffalo's blood pressure or something—"
"Fair point," Judy winced at the observation, and glanced at the small safe in the back of the office. It was where the evidence – in this case, the diamond handed to them by the menacing old walrus – had been stored for the time being. While they waited to have an expert examine it, that was.
"We could say it was an anonymous tip-off," Nick suggested, as he leaned back on the back two legs of his chair experimentally.
"Bogo will want to know whatever made us arrest our attention on this particular tip -off out of the hundreds we get every week," Judy replied, turning the report over in her paws.
"We could say the animal calling had a particularly truthful sounding voice," Nick chortled, "We could say we could just tell from the tremor in their tone that this informer was in earnest."
"Maybe you like getting sent to toilet-cleaning duty every other week," Judy returned dryly. "I however like to dedicate my time to more useful things while at work."
As Nick made some jokey reply, she looked out the window thoughtfully. The cherry petals were still floating around outside, now against a backdrop of a sky that was becoming an increasingly more purplish sort of hue as dusk crept in. The overall effect was very pleasing.
"Ok, enough of this," the rabbit announced, arriving at a snap decision. "I am taking this one to finish at home over the week-end," she folded the report neatly and put it in her pocket. "It's just one report, the rest is done – we can safely pronounce ourselves on week-end and head out for those cakes."
"You're the boss," Nick said jubilantly, shooting out of his seat like a bullet and heading for the door.
"Now I can't believe we spent all our winnings on sweets," Judy commented in bemusement, as the two animals made their way down the street in the fading light.
"Not all of them," Nick shot back, his arms full of boxes with cake. "Just forty seven dollars! That leaves a whole three for essential domestic purchases such as soap and toilet paper."
"I guess we were allowed to splurge a bit," Judy sighed as they turned right and headed over to their new home – the building was visible down the street, the setting sun blinking in the multiple reflections of its many windowpanes. "It's a bit of money we came in that we didn't expect to have – and it's Friday night – and we did finally get our new keys this week—"
"Say, now that's a thought!" Nick exclaimed enthusiastically, jostling the cardboards he was carrying. "We could gamble our way out of our debt to Mister Big – there are a bunch of casinos out in Savanna, at the junction with Sahara Square, and if we only—"
"Don't joke about such things Nick!" Judy raised her paws in horror. "You sound too much in earnest!"
"I wasn't really joking," Nick replied, a bit impatient. "Might I remind you that I know what I'm talking about – I used to earn many dozens of times more than our modest police salaries back in my happy youth—"
"Great. So you're ready to put our careers on the line?" Judy asked stonily. "Could I just ask you to picture what Bogo's reaction would be if he found out about such a maneuver on our part?"
"OK, good point," the fox twitched his nose in annoyance. "I must say Carrots – being on the force is fantastic, that's a fact – but it is just so annoying, being a model citizen sometimes – so many restrictions – no heavy gambling, no fake tax declarations, no hustling folks out of their hard-earned cash—"
"You are very far from being a model citizen Mister Wilde," Judy stated cynically. "So don't worry too much about it yet."
"Right Carrots, if you say so," Nick returned, as they neared the steps of their new home. "Now, if the sermons are done – would you mind getting the door? My paws are full of carrot cake and brownies here."
"Already getting it," Judy replied absently, rummaging in her pockets for her new set of keys. As Nick waited on the doorstep next to her, and the long shadows cast by the streetlamps being lighted behind their backs danced on the asphalt, it suddenly hit her what a big step this was. She had a sudden vision of coming back every night like this with Nick – true, they hung out together most evenings after work. There was a big difference between saying bye after a cup of tea at some diner and heading each their own way as compared to living together though.
"You know what, take your time Carrots," Nick's voice said above her, laden with humor. "The night's warm, we can just hang out here. Not like I'm carrying a bunch of food or anything."
"I said I was getting the door," Judy said, snapping out of her reverie, and inserting the key in the lock. Her spirits were soaring – the prospect she had pictured seemed like a lot of fun.
"The banana bread is a touch dry, and they should have added walnuts," Nick was saying. "The brownies are good, the carrot cake could do with a bit more frosting – the lemon meringue takes the cake – sorry about the pun – and I don't even like lemon tarts. But this one is awesome," and with that, he took another huge bite of the latter.
"What happened to your starting a new and healthy lifestyle?" Judy asked, busily scribbling on a spare bit of paper spread on the kitchen counter.
"I said I'd start one when we moved in definitively," the fox pointed out. "And so long as we have not really quit our previous homes, that's not happening.
"I told my landlady I'd be moving out last night," Judy said, taking a sip of herbal tea.
"Oh yeah? What did she say?"
"She said she'd give me a fine if the set of keys I returned had so much as a scratch on it."
"How kind! Charming lady, no doubt."
"You have no idea," Judy went back to her scribbling. "She did say she hoped I'd be happy in my new home then though."
"Really? Well, better than nothing I guess. You should have told her your new house buddy was a fox though – given her a fright."
"I told her I would be happy," Judy said, reaching for her mug again. "Why else would I have moved anyway? I told her I'd be crashing with my best friend from now on. She said, 'must be a respectable animal, knowing you Miss Hopps.'"
"Argh – what an insult. How dare she."
"I said that yes, my friend was a great animal," Judy replied defiantly, holding her chin up proudly.
Nick opened his mouth, then closed it, at a slight loss for some witty line to answer to that. Judy's continued faith in him was a great source of strength, that much was true. He hardly knew how to put a proper 'thank you' into words though – so he just crumpled the wrapper that had held his lemon meringue up in one paw and said instead,
"What's that you're doodling there anyway? Are you the new Picasso rabbit?"
"Hilarious," Judy replied, huffing over her paper. "If you must know, that's the plan of our future garden and the plants I am planning to put there."
"Nice," Nick replied, smiling despite himself at the earnest concentration Judy was poring over her work with. "Include some berries in your plans, would you? I have a feeling your entire family has a green paw as far as they're concerned."
"I already did," Judy said, drawing away, her pencil hovering over the sheet. "I put some blueberries in, and some strawberries – and a corner for some pansies – and a dwarf apple tree, cause a full size one would clutter the patch—"
"Can't believe you're so into this stuff – didn't you do enough planting back at your folks' farm Carrots?" Nick asked her, lounging in his chair.
"I did, naturally," Judy agreed. "It's much more fun having a garden of your own to plot out than sharing with the nearly three hundred members of your family though!"
"Is it? I'm glad you're having fun then," Nick replied, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"I am," Judy agreed, finally throwing her pencil down in satisfaction. "Let's see – lucky we're moving in in spring – I'll order all the plants I want from a catalogue and by the time they arrive I should be able to have those pesky weeds cleared out, if it doesn't rain non-stop every evening that is. Yes, it is all coming together nicely – let's see, what else should I put down on my move-in to-do list?"
"Finally letting your parents know and sending over money for their hospital stay, for after they've suffered from simultaneous heart attacks from sheer shock?" Nick suggested innocently.
Judy looked at her friend sourly.
"What a buzz kill you are Nicholas Wilde," she snapped. Then she sat up straight as a thought hit her. "Wilde, that's it – what about Mrs Wilde, Nick? Have you told her?"
"Mrs Wilde?" Nick raised an eyebrow at her. "Are you referring to my secret spouse and illegitimate family down in Tundra Town? Or to my other even less legitimate family and offspring out by the waterfalls area?"
"I am talking about your mother," Judy cut off.
"Then don't call her Mrs Wilde," Nick corrected her sternly. "That sounds incredibly formal, and my Mom is anything but that."
"You're avoiding my question," Judy pointed out in some triumph, glad of a chance to turn the tables.
"Fiiiine," Nick conceded. "Answer to question – nope, I 've not told her. I'll pop by her place sooner or later, as usual though – better break things face to face. She'll live it down better that way."
"Live it down?" Judy echoed, a small wave of worry breaking over her. "Live what down? Do you think she dislikes me?"
"She barely met you once Carrots," Nick replied, referring to the rushed meeting Judy and Mrs Wilde had had at Nick's graduation ceremony at the Academy. "And I am sure she liked you plenty, keep your head on. Naw, it's not you – it's all me. The highly doubtful pleasures of being an only child – something you are happily unaware of."
"Especially an only child like you!" Judy chortled. "Who broke the law enough times for a family the size of my parents'!"
"She doesn't even know the half of that, Mom I mean," Nick shook his head somewhat ruefully. "Tragic, being unable to share the finer glories of one's profession with one's parent – but that's the way when you work on the other side of the law. She had her suspicions though – and she was mighty pleased when I turned a leaf and took to the straight and narrow path finally."
"Oh," Judy said, touched as she perceived that she was at least partly to thank for this transition Mrs Wilde had been so thankful to perceive in her son.
"Yeah," Nick stretched his paws up in the air and yawned hugely. "That's the down side of turning all respectable again – your triumphant mother starts hanging all her old hopes and dreams on you again."
"You must have done pretty well, so far as parental dreams go," Judy replied, looking at him. "Look at you – you've redefined the reputation of foxes in society everywhere!"
"And all in a day's work," Nick agreed, grinning. "Yeah, that's why Mom let's herself hope for the best as far as the other part of her motherly hopes go."
"Which would be?"
"What every mother hopes for, if she is to be believed," Nick grimaced a bit.
Judy looked at him for a second nonplussed, before bursting out laughing.
"Sorry," she said after a moment, once she'd caught her breath. "She wants to see you happily settled down? Organize her son's wedding? Cut the cake at the ceremony?"
"What terrifying images your rabbit brain conjures," Nick looked at Judy, aghast. "You'd get along very well with my mother, I can see that now. It goes somewhat like what you said in my Mom's head, I'm sure – except that it doesn't stop at that, but at her becoming a happy grandma of a litter of several red furred grand-kits."
Judy had to go into a fit of giggles all over again.
"Nick the happy father!" she gasped, wiping away tears of mirth.
"We have the same opinion about that notion, Carrots," Nick agreed gravely. "It's a shame my Mom can't see the stark truth like that."
"A mother can always hope," Judy said, her laughter fits subsiding.
"No doubt," Nick agreed dryly. "I would have loved for her to hope in silence though, rather than pestering me every time she lays eyes on me. Still, you never know – once I tell her that I've finally moved in with someone – who happens to be a rabbit, and a friend, not a fox and a potential mother for my offspring – she might just let that remaining hope shrivel up and leave me be."
"What a thoughtful son," Judy said brightly. She jumped up, full of energy. "I'll get another tea – want another drink Nick? Shall I make you a decaf, seeing as how it's getting late?"
"Please," the fox replied, surprised by the sudden offer. "Thanks Carrots."
"No biggie," Judy replied, her mood about a zillion times higher than a minute before, if it were possible, and her spirits soaring.
Nick was hard to get to talk on serious subjects, or to talk about himself – and when he did, it was often rushed and short. The trick she had learned along the way was to keep the conversation would-be casual and fish for information in such a way, keeping the chatter flowing. See, then Nick ended up letting pieces of his background slip without even realizing it – and Judy's sharp rabbit ears were only too ready to pick those relevant tidbits out.
Like just now, when he was jokingly complaining about his Mom – Judy had heard the phrase he'd used exactly. 'Once I tell her that I've finally moved in with someone'. That meant what it meant – that Nick had never lived with anyone before. It would hardly have mattered if he had – it's not like friends were supposed to be demanding or exclusive. But all in all, Judy felt extremely uplifted to know that it was a first for Nick, just like for her, sharing a roof with someone.
"One lump of sugar or two Nick?" she asked joyfully, pouring out the steaming drinks.
"Where do you want this one then?" Nick asked, holding a flower pot up experimentally. The pot was the kind one had to hang up – it had two thin chains that connected at a small hook one was supposed to suspend it by.
Judy pursed her lips thoughtfully and cocked her head to one side, deliberating.
"The ivy is going to hang right over the edge after a few months," she said finally. "So better not put it next to any of the living room's windows, it would obscure the light. I know – put it outside the bathroom window! That'll add a touch of color to that corner of the house."
She nodded to herself as Nick obeyed, pulling the small step ladder along to the spot she'd indicated. Judy had ordered most of the plants she was planning to put in the garden online, just as she'd said the previous evening – but she had stopped by a florist's downtown to pick up a few of those ready-to-hang-up decorative flower pots on Saturday morning. Choosing out live flowers in an actual shop was more fun than in a catalogue, she felt – and the bonus was that you took them at once, not having to wait until they got delivered. So that afternoon found her and Nick putting them up outside the penthouse – along with clearing out the general rubble left over from the previous owner. Judy took her time choosing which flowerpot went where – she had selected them based on what caught her eye in the shop, without specifically deciding the exact location of each beforehand – she found it more fun to deliberate on that once actually at home.
"Like this?" Nick asked, popping the hammer he'd used to put the nail in the windowpane back in his trouser pocket, and hanging the suspendable flowerpot up.
"Yup, that's pretty good," Judy said happily.
"Ok, you're the expert on the nature bit Carrots," Nick returned cheerfully, hopping off the ladder and folding it up.
"Wait, there's still one more!" Judy said hurriedly, holding up the remaining pot. A cluster of delicate white buds, ready to burst open any day now, winked in its depths. "And it's lilies of the valley – my favorite," she added fondly, cradling the pot.
"I know, you've told me that already," Nick called over his shoulder, storing the ladder away in the far corner of the garden. "And that's why I figured you'd want it outside your room – cause it's your favorite I mean. I can reach high enough to put it over your window without the ladder, no sweat." He waved an airy paw in the general direction of the bedroom that faced southeast.
Judy hesitated a bit.
"We haven't pulled straws yet to see who gets which bedroom like we said we would Nick," she reminded him finally. "So it's not like it's really my bedroom," she elaborated, trying to keep the wistfulness out of her tone. She really did prefer the east-wing bedroom – the space for the bed had a four-poster frame that had been left behind. Judy could just imagine hanging some drapes from them and pulling them open every morning as the sun shone through her window.
Nick chuckled good-naturedly.
"We're not pulling straws anymore Carrots – I've seen how you hover around that room, picturing what piece of furniture you'll put where. You can have it since you obviously want it that bad."
"Really?" Judy squirmed happily. "You don't mind?" she added, trying to be fair.
"Really," Nick was already hammering the last nail in above the window of what was now Judy's bedroom. "Now bring that pot over Carrots."
"OK!" Judy rushed over gleefully, brandishing the flowers. Nick smiled at her enthusiasm.
"Care to do the honors Carrots?"
"Yup!" Judy said, and stepped forward. Nick caught her around the midriff and lifted her up, so that, stretching her paws out; she managed to reach high enough to hang up the flowerpot.
"And done!" she proclaimed.
Nick set her down carefully, and they both stood back a bit to admire the effect.
"Like it?" Nick asked after a pause.
"Yes," Judy admitted. She felt a bit caught-out – she had not expected Nick to be good at this kind of thing – gardening, or repairs or anything of the sort. In her mind he was very much a city fox and she had been ready to hop in with suggestions. It transpired though that he was very much used to tinker with tools when needed, so her advice was rendered unnecessary. Judy marveled inwardly, as she often did, at the extensive experience Nick's previous lifestyle must have afforded him – and whether there was any area of expertise where she could excel in comparison and be the one to teach him a thing or two. Well, in actual serious gardening she was probably better – but she hardly felt like coming out top in such a rabbity skill.
"You're welcome then," Nick was saying, pulling the suspended flowerpot a bit straighter critically.
"Oh, was my gratitude insufficient?" Judy struck a curtsey-esque pose. "Thank you Nicholas Piberius, for your amazing act of friendly kindness."
"You're milking the moment now Carrots," the fox laughed. "Anyway, that's done with. What time is the mother of shrews popping by?"
"Any minute now," Judy replied, after a hurried glance at her phone to check the time.
FruFru had begged to come over for a quick peek at their new place – despite the fact that it was hardly set up yet. Having assisted in such a very front-row manner to the deal they had struck with her father, the shrew was rather curious to see what the actual outcome of the whole affair was now.
"Be sure and go pick her up downstairs when she arrives Carrots," Nick was telling her. "You know that elevator isn't rodent-friendly."
"I will, I will," Judy was saying. "She's supposed to call me as soon as –oh! That'll be her." The rabbit said as her phone went off. "FruFru? Yeah, be there in a second. Any cake left?" this last question was addressed to Nick, as she turned to hurry downstairs.
"A bit of the tart, not much," the fox answered. "But then you know – you hardly need much when entertaining squeaky guests – that's the up side. The tart was the best too, like I said."
FruFru agreed heartily with that last statement.
"Delicious!" she piped, as she wolfed down – or shrewed down, as the case may be – a minute share of lemon tart, seated right on top of the kitchen counter a few minutes later, tiny JuJu eating a small crumb, lounging in her mother's lap. "At that new place you say, that's where you got this? Piggish Delight? Yes, I'd love to go there myself – it's not really adapted for accommodating rodent clients though."
"I know," Judy was sipping her rasberry tea and tickling JuJu behind the ears. "It's really rare though, isn't it? A building that can accommodate mammals of all sizes. Nick, what in the name of cream cheese puffs are you up to?"
"Rather down to," the fox replied, from the floor as it were. "Just trying to wedge something under this blessed sofa so that it stands straight."
"Yeah, where did that come from?" Judy asked, raising an eyebrow.
"Oh, Finnick dropped it off late last night. He used to have it over at….*ahem*. It's a piece of furniture he no longer needed, so I thought, hey, free couch. I should have consulted you first though, no? Not what you had in mind maybe?"
Judy observed the couch critically. It was rather big and looked comfy enough, like it could accommodate half a dozen medium sized animals easily. The cheerful plush looked nice to lounge on.
"No, I like it," she conceded. "Provided it does stand still. And you will run all future furnishing decisions by me – for the shared rooms that is."
"Right-o Carrots, you're the boss," Nick agreed, grinning, before bending over to complete his task again.
"I am serious you trickster," Judy admonished. "Don't go trying to sneak anything in past me."
"Thought I was a dumb fox," Nick called back. "How would I ever get anything past such a sly bit of fluff?"
"I'm the sly one now?" Judy asked rhetorically, raising her paws heavenwards. A small couch alerted her to the fact that FruFru was there – a fact easy to forget for a second when your guests are so much smaller than yourself. The rabbit looked back at the shrew, and caught the bemused expression on the latter's small face.
"Oh, don't mind us FruFru," Judy explained hurriedly. "We always go on like this."
"I see," FruFru said after a small pause. "Well, I have to say, your new home is lovely Judy."
"You think so?" Judy beamed down at her. "Wait till you see the flowers we put up just now."
"Better take your friend on a tour of the lower floors too Carrots," Nick supplied, now bouncing up and down on the couch experimentally (apparently to check its solidity or something). "That thing Mrs Grande mentioned – you'll find it here Madam. There's a whole floor that's actually all adapted for rodents like yourself."
"Is there?" FruFru squealed excitedly, as Judy exclaimed simultaneously,
"When did you have time to see that Nick? I haven't even been on any of the other floors!"
"This morning while you were out picking up your flowerpots," Nick replied. "And you're allowed to go anywhere you want Carrots – the whole place is ours, remember? And it's all empty so far."
"So a whole floor adapted for rodents?" FruFru repeated.
"Yep – two levels down. It's pretty neat. Shame there's no lift to bring the small mammals up – but I guess the architect was planning to put a rodent lift in later. That's the kind of small adjustment you can slap on anytime."
"Can we go see?" FruFru asked, turning to Judy and folding her tiny paws in a gesture of request.
The rabbit smiled at her friend.
"Sure thing," she said, holding her paws out carefully to pick FruFru and JuJu up.
It was conceived rather ingeniously, Judy had to admit, as she let the shrews down again once they'd reached the rodent-floor. The height of the ceiling was equal to that of every other floor – so large mammals could easily come in. But a myriad of small staircases led up to an extra mezzanine area that by its height suggested clearly that the usage of that level was meant for rodents. FruFru sped up the steps happily to look out the long windows that ran the length of the huge open-space area.
"It's meant to be some kind of restaurant or café," Nick observed.
"Or a shop?" Judy suggested, noting the small counter in one corner of the room.
"A hair salon!" FruFru squeaked excitedly. She blushed as the two friends turned to look at her.
"You'd be an ace at running one FruFru," Judy commented, smiling at the shrew.
"Well, I've always wanted to open one," the latter replied gloomily, turning to look around the empty floor once more.
"Then why didn't you?" Judy asked in some surprise. "You'd never lack ideas for hairstyles, knowing you – and, for starting a business, well.." she trailed off delicately, unsure of how to phrase the idea that Mister Big definitely had enough funds and contacts to establish any business his daughter chose to go into.
"I wouldn't use Daddy's money," FruFru explained stubbornly, obviously guessing Judy's line of thought. "Not seeing how he comes by it. And I would definitely not open shop in one of Daddy's buildings down in Tundra Town – a fine example I would be setting for JuJu, her Mommy known as the hairstylist out in the shady district."
"Well, you should feel free to try your paw out at opening a hair salon here anytime you feel like it," Nick said, nodding at FruFru.
"Really?" FruFru and Judy both exclaimed simultaneously. Judy looked at Nick in surprise.
"Is that a good idea?" the rabbit questioned.
"Why not?" Nick shrugged. "Mrs Grande would be working for free at first, until she starts making cash – but at least we could let her off without paying any rent at the start. No worries," he added, raising a paw to stop FruFru from protesting. "It'd be doing us a favor – we need animals to start frequenting this place. A salon on one of the top floors could go a long way in helping us out. And you can bring your kid into work with you – landlords say it's OK," he winked at the delighted shrew.
"So, we already have a business that'll be opening its doors in our building," Judy said, a bit dazed. "Whew. And then there are the flats to be sold or let."
"Yeah," Nick agreed, "about that then—"
"We should start putting announcements out?" Judy asked. "It will take a while I guess?" Her heart sank a bit at the thought of all the extra work she would have to somehow go through – work added to her already time-consuming career – work she had no expertise in. Nick's voice broke in on her thoughts.
"We are not doing anything Carrots – how exactly are you planning to juggle real estate with working on the force if I may ask?"
"I'll get it done in the evenings?" Judy asked hopefully.
"It's a full-time job," Nick told her, not unkindly. "You'd soon see that. No, we're getting help Carrots."
"Help?" she echoed.
"Yup," Nick confirmed nonchalantly. "I talked to Finnick about it last night. He's been rather off lately – no wonder, losing the best hustling partner in Zootropolis history. He'll take care of finding tenants for us – we'll give him a percentage on the margin we make – everyone wins."
""Really?" Judy felt a bit relived at the idea of experienced paws at hand – but the relief was paired with a slight qualm at the idea of just what the paws in question were experienced in. "Are you sure he would find… reliable tenants?" she asked tentatively.
Nick affected an offended pose.
"Carrots, now don't go suggesting that just because—"
"I'm asking because it's our necks on the line," she said hurriedly. "But if he could help out – I'd be very grateful, make no mistake, and of course he deserves his share in the matter. So – we'd have to declare this officially, right?"
"Ah yes," Nick said after a pause, grimacing a bit. "Good point Carrots. It was the next thing on my mind. Really."
"Riiiiight," Judy agreed cynically.
"This sounds so exciting," FruFru chimed happily, dancing little JuJu around. "Quite the venture! Is the building to have a proper name then?"
"You're right, it should," Judy agreed. She hesitated, deliberating. "I'd almost call it a zoo, seeing as how so many different mammals of all sizes are going to be regrouped here altogether."
"More like some sort of utopian myth," Nick chortled.
"Call it Zootopia!" FruFru waved a paw theatrically.
"Zootopia! I like it," the fox proclaimed.
"Me too," Judy nodded. "Well, here's to Zootopia! Chin Chin!" she raised an imaginary glass of champagne.
"Amen to that," Nick said, copying her gesture. "And here goes nothing."
"To Zootopia!" FruFru piped shrilly, bobbing her toddler up and down in glee.
Ouf.
Here we are, end of chapter seven :)
As usual, a new sketch is available on irina-bourry dot deviantart dot com - and the same one on irina-bourry dot tumblr dot com - FruFru and her daughter (who we're calling JuJu in this fic to avoid always calling her 'Judy' too) for you guys this time!
Question of the day, if you feel like it - friends before becoming a couple? What do you think? Is it always the way, like what is happening for our heros - I mea, ahem, *cough cough* not that it has been establisghed yet whether anything will happen - but do you think people (or zootopians) always become pals before falling for one another, or are you a believer in love at first sight? :)
As usual, leave us your thoughts, comments, let us know what you did and did not enjoy about the story.
We are glad to keep up the writing and thank you all for follwoing our story :) See you all May 30 with the next chapter! :)