We are so very excited to post this new chapter! Things are starting to happen, and, hopefully you will all enjoy following our heroes' latest adventures and misadventures :)
So many thanks need to be given before charging onwards into the plot, so here we go:
- Thanks as ever to the greatest beta and pal Pauline,
- Thank you again NextGeneration18 for the prompt and super idea for the one-shot 'Time and Time Again' that filled up the wait for this latest chapter – check it out if you haven't yet, back on my profile,
- Thanks 15delgizzij and Orieon for the great (and useful) discussions,
- Thank you Pluto for your remark in the reviews, I had not even realized that the plot summary had become so outdated. Hopefully the new one does the story a trifle more justice.
- Thanks all for your ideas, feedback, comments! Virtual truffles and bonbons for all!
On to the chapter!
There is a certain sparkle in everything she says and does…
- Anne of Windy Willows, Lucy Maud Montgomery.
All in all, Judy decided, it was turning out to be a really superb week-end, if a bit unusual. True, she had hardly imagined when leaving work on Friday evening that she'd be dining with her parents - and Nick! - at the Yorinori maki and sushi joint downtown the following night. But it had turned out to be rather a pleasant, albeit unexpected, turn of events.
"So this is a maki roll?" Mrs Hopps was studying her plate curiously. "We don't really have restaurants that are quite so cosmopolitan back in Bunnyburrow, I'm afraid."
"We hardly have any restaurants out in Bunnyburrow, Mom," Judy conceded, rolling her eyes.
"It's called a California roll Ma'am," Nick put in helpfully, addressing Judy's mother. "You have different kinds, you see."
"Really?" Bonnie Hopps turned to face the fox earnestly. "Goodness Mister Wilde, how many types of these little things are there?"
"Dozens," Nick returned gravely, nodding his head. "You have the Hawaii roll, easily recognizable by its little hula skirt. Then there's Alaska, only available when the waiters manage to pry it out of a block of ice. The Texas roll is good, but there are sometimes grains of sand stuck in -"
"You'll learn to kind of ignore Nick after some time Mom," Judy said in a bored tone, taking a sip of her Sencha green tea. "How's the food Dad? Like it?"
"Oh, it looks great," Mr Hopps replied heartily. He studied an avocado roll for a second before spearing it with a chopstick as if he were stabbing it. "Though why they can't give us forks and knives is beyond me," he added cheerfully, chewing on the roll.
"Um, it's kind of a cultural thing," Judy said, hiding her smile behind her cup as a scandalized waiter threw her father a look.
"It is indeed," Nick was saying happily, picking up a chopstick of his own. "It's much easier to borrow something from your neighbour's plate with these long sticks Mister Hopps! Let me demonstrate."
Down came Nick's chopstick, fast as a flash, to puncture one of the makis on Judy's plate.
"Will you cut it out!" Judy huffed angrily, quickly grabbing a chopstick of her own and attempting to stop the progress of Nick's in midair.
"On guard Carrots!" the fox exclaimed jubilantly, countering with a second chopstick held in the other paw.
"Goodness," Bonnie was watching the two young animals, her eyes as round as saucers. "Eastern table manners are rather violent, aren't they Stu?"
"Well, we needn't come back here anytime soon Carrots," Nick commented in Judy's ear as the same waiter (a well-groomed porcupine) passed them again, shooting Mrs Hopps a glance this time, after hearing her last remark.
"Too true," Judy grumbled. She faced her parents. "So where did you guys want to go for brunch tomorrow?" she asked.
"Oh Honey, it's going to be a rain check for us after all I'm afraid," her mother shook her head, wiping her mouth with a napkin before laying it down on the table neatly.
"What? But you said you'd be leaving Sunday afternoon?" Judy looked from one of her parents to the other, perplexed.
"I know, I know," Mrs Hopps reached a paw out to pat Judy's hand. "But your uncle called, Sweety, and it seems that little Ginger and Bobby are coming down with something. I'd just as well your father and I change our plans and catch an early express tomorrow morning."
"Oh," Judy felt her ears droop a bit.
"We'll be back sometime soon though Jude, just you wait and see," her father added brightly. "We'll swing by and see how your place looks after you've got it all fixed and furnished, ey?"
"I guess," Judy smiled at him, twisting her napkin in her paws. "Still, you know how it is; one of the kids is always coming down with something. Maybe you could stay tomorrow morning at least and head back after noon-?"
"Now Sweet Pea," Bonnie said soothingly. "Remember how we used to nurse you day in and day out when you had the measles and the pox? It's the younger ones' turn now You'll understand someday when you have some children of your own."
Judy ignored the snort that emanated from her right, where Nick was sitting, at this statement. Well, she almost ignored it; her attention was still focused on her mother, and no one saw the kick she gave Nick under the table. A small 'ow' informed her that it had met its mark though.
"You come and see us anytime Jude!" Mr Hopps was saying. "Any old time, you don't need to warn us or ask permission or anything! Home is still your home, remember."
"Thanks Dad," Judy replied, touched.
"You're welcome whenever too Mister Wilde," Bonnie added, nodding at Nick. "The little ones had taken quite a shine to you after your brief visit the other day. They're always asking when Mister Fox will come to play!"
Nick looked rather startled for a moment, then he laughed as if amused, though Judy felt quite sure he was genuinely moved.
"Madam, I'd come in a flash," he said courteously, addressing Mrs Hopps. "Let me assure you that the memory of your pie and strawberry jam lingers in my mind like a beacon of hope."
"Funny chap, isn't he?" Stu was saying in a whisper to his daughter. "He's just fine though. 'Specially for a fox."
"Cheer thee up Fluff," Nick said about an hour later, as he and Judy made their way down the street leading away from Mr and Mrs Hopps' hotel in the waning sunlight. They had bid their goodbyes, and headed off. Judy had been somewhat quiet as the pair walked along.
"Oh, I'm hardly sad," Judy replied, coming to with a bit of a start. "I'm just sort of abashed altogether. I never expected to see them today, then they arrive - and the famous taser scene takes place - and we have a lovely meal - and they're off again! It's been a whirlwind day!"
"It has, but it's been a hell of a fun day too," Nick agreed. "Seeing your father eat those rice noodles with his chopsticks alone made my night."
"You are the limit!" Judy punched him playfully on the arm. "Why did you have to encourage them? You're the worst."
Nick smiled down at the rabbit, his shining eyes showing very plainly that he knew these would-be insults were not meant to actually hurt his feelings.
"Sticks and stones, Carrots. Now, how exactly will your rabbitness be getting home? Subway?"
"Oh I rather, I actually thought of sleeping at Zootopia," Judy said a bit sheepishly. To her pleasant surprise though, Nick merely nodded.
"I was going to do that myself Carrots, it's way more practical seeing as how we're downtown anyway. It sure is a change, having a place to crash at in the centre of town for once. It's going to be full-on camping mode if we want to sleep there tonight though, remember the beds aren't ready or anything."
"There's the couch!" Judy supplied eagerly. "One of us can take that! And the two bean bags can make a sort of camp bed if you squash them together. I maybe have a duvet among the things I already brought over, you can have that; I've a kind of shawl thing my Mom brought that would be enough for my size, a sort of make-shift blanket."
"No pillows though," Nick pointed out. "Are you capable of sleeping with your head horizontal Miss?"
"I'll roll a sweater up and put it under my head," Judy shrugged. "Big deal! We've been through much worse during our Academy training, haven't we?"
"We have," Nick agreed. He clapped his paws together as if finalizing the decision. "Zootopia it is then Carrots! Let's hustle," he turned into the side street that would eventually end up taking them to their new home.
Judy quickened her pace to keep up with her friend. The rabbit did not possess excellent night vision like the fox did, but there was little need for it in Sahara Square, where the many lamps and neon signs kept the environment nearly as light at night as it was during the day. Looking up at Nick at some point, Judy noticed he was smiling. She found herself beaming too, for no reason. It was a fun thought, sleeping at the penthouse for the very first time.
"All good?" Nick asked, from his position stretched out on the couch.
"Almost!" Judy replied, still punching the bean bag to make it more comfortable.
It had been very easy to decide who got which of the only two available sleeping spaces. Nick being much bigger than Judy, he had no chance of fitting on the bean bag without having either his head or his legs hanging off the side. So on the couch went the fox, and on the bean bag went the rabbit.
Judy had no pyjamas with her, but she substituted them with a T-shirt and sports slacks; Nick had done likewise. The fox had jumped on the couch as soon as he was done changing, paws behind his head. Judy was fussing around though, arranging her would-be mattress first, then fixing an infusion, and then switching the radio on on her phone.
"Are you preparing a slumber party bash rabbit?" Nick asked, observing her from his spot.
"Nope," Judy carefully lay her phone down to be able to hear the music spilling out of the speaker clearly, before lighting a small candle and placing it next to her bean bag. "It's just that I had thought out exactly what my first night at my first own home would be like, and so I'm sticking with the plan."
"Right," Nick agreed, as Judy climbed on her makeshift bed finally and started sipping her infusion. "I guess I wasn't in your original imaginary sketch of that first night though, huh Carrots?"
"Well no," Judy agreed. "When I'd imagined it as a kid I was either alone and independent or, worst-case scenario, with my future hubbie. I'll take you though, if you promise you don't snore."
"You sure know how to sell someone on a deal Officer Fluff," Nick commented, the corners of his mouth twitching.
"Hush, I'm trying to listen to the radio and enjoy the moment," Judy commanded, turning the volume up.
"Who is that?" Nick asked, ignoring Judy's request for quiet. "I thought you only listened to your horned idol."
"It's El Lamo," Judy replied, after a glance at the name of the singer that was blinking on the screen of her phone. "That new pop singer, the white llama guy, you know? He is supposed to be getting quite famous, almost as much so as Gazelle. They're supposed to have a kind of show-down concert in the fall, it's already been announced."
"Not interested in that kind of thing Carrots," Nick commented lazily. He did look at her phone obediently when she shoved it under his nose though. The fox studied the shot of the new pop singer for a second before commenting dryly, "I wouldn't worry much about him if I were your Gazelle Carrots. Not much in terms of competition."
"You don't think he sings well?" Judy asked in surprise, lowering her mug.
"I don't know enough about singing to judge," Nick replied easily. "One glance at his album cover photo is enough to see that he's just copying off a more successful artist though. And animals who just copy ideas and don't have any new ones of their own never go very far Carrots."
Judy looked at her phone thoughtfully. It was true, she figured, what Nick had said. El Lamo was featured singing in a bright red suit sparkling with glitter. His slim white frame was silhouetted quite effectively against a background of dancing lionesses, their golden fur standing out prettily. The whole image was very reminiscent of Gazelle's signature look, when one stopped to think of it though. Judy wrinkled her nose in distaste and switched the channel, putting 'Try Everything' on instead.
"Aren't you bored of that one yet?" Nick asked.
"Nope!" Judy drained the last of her infusion and lay back on her camp bed contentedly. "Like you said Nick, it's an original hit, so it doesn't get old."
"That's not exactly what I said," the fox grumbled. He didn't argue further though, letting Gazelle's lovely voice finish the song in peace. As the song ended, a silence descended on the small sitting room, and Judy's candle flickered brightly, providing the only remaining source of light in the penthouse.
That was unless one counted the numerous stars that were starting to peek out overhead. The reader will remember that the penthouse living room was noted for its huge oval window carved out in the ceiling. Soft starlight was pouring in through this opening, casting shadows that got mixed up with the jumpy reflections produced by the candle's flickering flame.
"This sure feels like home," Judy commented.
"It will feel even more so when I can sleep in a proper bed," Nick added. "But yes, yes, this works just fine."
"Yup," Judy agreed. "What happens after the coffee then Nick?"
"Beg your pardon?" The fox turned on his couch to look down at her in bemusement. "What are you on about now rabbit? Did you put something weird in your drink? You're not making much sense."
"I am too, if you just listen," Judy replied patiently. "I was talking about your perfect day Nick. You'd said that it would start by you drinking a big cup of FruFru's super coffee. So I was just asking – what would you do afterwards?"
Judy's friend surveyed her for a moment in silence, before settling back down on his back.
"You're like the proverbial dog with a bone Carrots, you know that? You never let it go. I swear I heard chief Buffalo Head commenting on it at some point."
"And you're like the proverbial weasel, always trying to avoid giving a direct answer," Judy parried evenly. "It's not like I'm trying to pry a full description out of you. I just asked what happens after the coffee. That's all."
Nick didn't say anything for such a long stretch of time that Judy was beginning to wonder whether she had not indeed crossed some sort of line. Her friend's next words reassured her though.
"I hadn't thought about it much Carrots," the fox replied, shrugging. "I'm not in the habit of walking around, planning some sort of fantasy lifestyle."
"Well, if you were to think about it now," Judy persisted. "What would you do? After drinking the coffee?"
Another pause stretched out for several minutes. The candle was burning down and the light from it dying away. Judy was actually all but starting to snooze when the fox replied finally in a rather soft tone of voice.
"I'd go for a stroll in the Rainforest area I guess," Nick said. "I've always rather liked to swing by there, even if one tends to get wet."
"Really?" Judy was taken aback. She mostly only associated Nick with such areas in town as Sahara – the fox was much more one for taking a drink in a café and relaxing than trekking it up and down the jungle. "Whatever for?"
"I've always kind of liked it there," Nick answered a touch defensive. "Back from when I was a kid. My Mom would take me there sometimes so I could pretend I was a real scout, sniffing about for clues in some vital life and death case. Pretty dumb, huh?" he finished, with a self-deprecating laugh.
"No, it makes a lot of sense," Judy replied immediately, her voice serious.
"Count on you to uphold the temple of childhood dreams Carrots," Nick said wearily. "I forgot whom I was talking to back there."
"Well, don't forget," Judy said decisively.
"Got it," Nick sounded amused. "How about some shut eye Fluff?"
"Night Night," Judy agreed, blowing the tiny remaining candle out. "And Nick?"
"Hum?"
"Thanks for telling me," Judy said.
"Whatever," Nick replied, in a voice that was supposed to sound grouchy. Judy knew better though, and she smiled and fell asleep still smiling.
The week-end seemed destined to be full of surprises. Sunday appeared to have decided to take revenge on Saturday with a vengeance in the competition for the day that brought a majority of unexpected events.
It all started out rather innocently. The two young animals woke up from the bright spring sunshine pouring in through the window in the roof. After rubbing the sleep out of their eyes and saying their 'Good Mornings', a short debate followed as to whom was responsible for getting up and heading out to get breakfast.
Finally deciding to flip a coin to settle the matter, Nick seemed sure to wriggle his way out of being the one whom had to do it. One can not be sure, but one rather suspects that the only reason he was ultimately the loser in this bet is that Judy made him cross his heart he wouldn't cheat; promising on his mother's life (which might sound drastic, but Judy had enough experience with the fox's hustling skills.)
So it was that Nick found himself out of bed with much grumbling, while Judy settled back on the bean bag happily for a little more time.
"Enjoy it while it lasts, this won't be some sort of regular thing," was the fox's dark parting remark.
"Extra froth on the chai latte, don't forget!" was how he was answered.
"Why did I ever agree to this housemate thing?" Nick asked rhetorically before closing the penthouse door with a small click.
Thus Judy had a full extra ten minutes to nestle in bed, before sitting up, stretching her arms happily and hopping out of her camp bed, heading over to the kitchen corner to pull out some plates and such.
The two animals found themselves seated in companionable silence, munching on their breakfast pastries and drinking their respective beverages another five minutes later, once Nick was back.
"Sleep well then?" Nick asked, after taking a long gulp of coffee.
"Oh yes," Judy nodded vigorously. "You don't snore," she added charitably.
Nick snorted into his cup.
"So good to know," he laughed. "And as for you Carrots, you snore very softly, so it's almost unnoticeable."
"I do not!" Judy exclaimed, shocked. "How can you suggest such a thing? I breath deeply and evenly!"
"With small honking sounds," Nick added gravely.
"You're just a-" Judy was starting in exasperation, but at that precise second her mobile phone started ringing, and so Nick never found out what it was he was exactly.
"It's work," Judy said in surprise, checking the caller.
Nick groaned.
"Don't tell me we have to come in because Weaselton has stolen a batch of DVDs or something," he muttered. .
Judy was holding the phone up to her ear.
"Yes Benjamin? It's Clawhauser," she mouthed to Nick. "Bogo wants to speak to me? Oh, put him through, of course," she agreed, with a pained look at Nick.
"Sounds serious," Nick sighed.
"Yes Chief. Not at all Chief," Judy was saying in her crispest voice, in answer to Bogo's asking her whether the call had woken her up. The chief of the central ZPD precinct had such a loud rumbling voice that Nick could easily hear him from the other side of the table.
"It's unfortunate business Hopps, a shame to be pulling you out on a day off duty," Bogo was explaining over the phone. "You can recuperate the extra hours as time off later though."
"You need me to participate in a TV interview?" Judy gasped, after listening to the chief's explanations.
"It's the central news channel," Bogo was booming on the other end. "I'd send them on their way normally, such short notice, but the Mayor and City Council are all het up and right up my tail about this one. They requested a ZPD Officer as representative to explain about security measures at concerts and other public events," the way Bogo said 'concerts' suggested it was a meeting of animals who ate garbage. "You are very well briefed in being in the public eye Hopps, I'm assigning the task to you. The news anchors are preparing their interviews because the public wants to be reassured as there will be a lot of mass events at the close of the summer it seems."
"Oh yes," Judy piped excitedly. "There's going to be a huge Gazelle concert in a kind of showdown with a new pop singer and—"she petered out, realizing that there was nothing but stony silence on the other end of the line. She mentally kicked herself for rattling on about Gazelle to Chief Bogo, as Nick gave her a mocking 'thumbs up' sign. "I mean," she carried on hurriedly. "I'd be honoured to represent the Force on this occasion. Sir."
"Very Good," Bogo barked. "You'll file a short feedback report next week, detailing your intervention and hand it in to have the supplementary weekend hours taken into account. Clawhauser will give you the rest of the details."
"Thank you Sir. Very good Sir," Judy said quickly, before Bogo switched her back to Benjamin.
As the cheetah squealed in excitement over the fact that Judy would be appearing on TV, and to speak about a (remotely) Gazelle-related topic, and eventually calmed down sufficiently to give Judy the details of where and what time her intervention was to take place, Nick drank his coffee, shaking his head in amusement.
When Judy finally ended the call, the fox smiled at her, raising his eyebrows.
"Congratulations Miss Public Image of the ZPD," he said, only slightly teasing. "That's great."
To his vague surprise, Judy threw her phone down on the table top and grabbed her ears in panic.
"Cheddar puffs and frosting Nick!" the rabbit exclaimed in horror. "What'll I do?"
"Go through with it of course," Nick replied. "What's there to worry about? You've been on TV before. Don't tell me you have stage fright at this late date Carrots."
"No no no, it's not that," Judy was drumming her foot on the leg of her stool, agitated. "It's just – you heard Clawhauser – the interview is today at seven PM, live, and on ZNN. That's like the central TV channel."
"So?" Nick looked on at her in amusement.
"So, Clawhauser said they requested I come in civilian!" Judy said heatedly.
Nick stared on at the rabbit, uncomprehending. Judy threw her paws up in frustration.
"Oh Nick, what in the world will I wear?" she cried.
"Any old thing? Who cares?" Nick asked, shrugging.
"Who cares?"Judy goggled at him aghast. "Everyone will see me! My parents! The animals at work! FruFru and her family! Everyone! And the news anchors on ZNN are always dressed in the last word in fashion! What will I look like next to them?"
Nick just eyed her, clearly not grasping the depth of the problem.
"Oh cream cheese," Judy said, exasperated, catching a glimpse of the shirt Nick had been wearing the previous day, that he'd left on a nearby chair. The bright green shirt clashed terribly with the striped tie slung over it. "I forgot whom I was talking to. You can't understand me."
"Clearly," Nick agreed, grinning. "I can see you're greatly disturbed though Madam. Well, see it this way – this is your payback for refusing to go get breakfast earlier on. Karma, you know. "
"Har har," Judy replied, far from amused as she slumped in her seat.
The funny thing was that she was more than confident about the subject matter itself, Judy thought, as she walked up and down her room that same afternoon. By 'her room' we do mean the room in the penthouse. The rabbit had gone by her flat in the day, picking up several possible outfits, before bringing them back by the penthouse at Zootopia. She had done so because it would be much more convenient to head over to the ZNN headquarters from Zootopia, as both were downtown. Plus, Nick had stayed at the penthouse himself and had promised her that he'd walk her to ZNN before going off to visit his Mom in the evening. It was more or less on his way, he told her. Judy rather thought he had somehow seized how nervous she was and she felt grateful for what was probably his attempt at providing moral support.
And boy, was she nervous. Yes, the topic was familiar; she could read a lecture about security in public places. A series of lectures for that matter. But what to wear? It all seemed a bit unreal, the interview falling on her head out of the blue. But she had received a phone call from the lady who was supposed to interview her, a Miss Margaret Frost, and the lady had confirmed all the details.
"Just come over to our headquarters some thirty minutes before the airing Officer, would you?" the journalist had requested over the phone. Judy found her voice rather soft and purr-y and wondered whether Margaret Frost was a feline animal. "We'll have plenty of time to set everything up that way. And thank you for accepting the shooting at such short notice, and on a Sunday evening besides."
Which was all very well, Judy thought cynically, but this Margaret girl sounded like she slept in silk and diamonds, so what on earth was she, Judy Hopps, to put on so as not too look provincial and dowdy in comparison?
"How's it going Carrots?" Nick's voice called from the living room.
"Oh, give me a break," Judy replied, raising her voice.
"If you want everyone to notice you and not the interviewer, you know what to do," the fox called back.
"Wear a super-expensive and classy outfit I don't have and can't afford?" Judy asked sarcastically.
"I was going to say 'go naked'," her friend shouted helpfully. "But you know. Whatever works for you."
"I'm just brimming over with options here," Judy grumbled, not even bothering to make an angry retort.
She turned back to the clothes strewn out in front of her and tried to focus. OK, nothing dressy, not like a flowing skirt or anything. She wasn't used to parading around kitted out in some look – well, some look someone like FruFru could pull off, frankly speaking. It would only maker her, Judy, feel twitchy and nervous on camera. And that would show.
So, trousers! She had a smart pair of black trousers and a matching short-sleeved cotton blouse. She had worn them for her entrance exams at the Police Academy some years back actually, and not much since then, so the garments were in excellent condition. I look fine, Judy decided, as she pulled them on and stood back to survey her reflection.
Except… it was a little monochrome, wasn't it? Like she was the Bunny in Black, with the 'B's' capitalized. Judy scowled a bit and cast her eyes over her narrow selection of 'fine' clothes again. There weren't any other blouses that looked half as sharp as her black one though, so she'd have to stick with that. A paper parcel caught her eye suddenly. She picked it up, grasping at the memory. Yes, this was from a shopping spree with FruFru and JuJu some ten days back.
FruFru loved shopping in general and going over to larger mammals' fashion boutiques too. The latest fashions always came out in larger mammal size first, FruFru told Judy, the smaller tailors always needed extra time to adapt the dress patterns and sew them in rodent-size. So FruFru got a head start in figuring out what was going to be 'in' for the new fashion season when she trekked through bigger-animal clothes stores.
Judy found this amusing and willingly took FruFru and JuJu (who was becoming every bit the fashion addict her mother was) on jaunts to look at clothes. The rabbit rarely bought anything herself, but on that last spree FruFru had convinced her to buy the item that now found itself in Judy's paws, still in the paper it had been wrapped in by the clerk at the boutique.
It was a tailored white blazer, the sleeves of which were neatly cut and finished in a three quarters fashion. It had been FruFru who had insisted that Judy consider buying it. The garment was rather classier and more expensive than anything Judy would have looked at of her own accord. But her tiny friend had pointed out that if she wanted to move ahead and climb the career ladder (Judy had confided a bit about her ambitions to FruFru) she would have to 'start dressing sharp at some point'. When it would become necessary at work Judy hardly knew, for she was in uniform when in the office of course. The blazer had been purchased however, and she was fervently thankful for it at the moment, as she tore the paper parcel hurriedly.
She tried it on over the black blouse and trousers and stepped back to look at the effect critically. Much better, she decided, nodding to herself, much better than the 'all in dark' modus. She looked a bit like some upscale secretary or first-level office manager now.
"Please Sir, the meeting is about to start, in this conference hall if you please," she muttered experimentally, gesturing to an imaginary colleague with her paws discreetly, before cracking up at her reflection.
This was all in order – was she done and ready to go? Something made her pause; Judy went over her outfit one last time, musing. It was neat and looked smart enough, no problems there. It did however lack some colour, perhaps. 'A focal point creates interest!" FruFru said inside Judy's head.
It was all very well for the shrew, Judy told herself. FruFru had an impeccable head of hair that she was forever accessorizing. Judy knew very well that in her own case, she would immediately look ridiculous if she were to try pinning any of the elaborate hair clips FruFru used to the fur on her head. Or tying any of the flimsy scarves the arctic shrew was prone to wear. Or clasping on any of the bracelets or multiple necklaces that were always jangling on FruFru's neck and wrists.
"Jewellery and such isn't my thing," Judy thought, shrugging.
Still, she poked around the little bag that contained her small stock of accessories out of a perfunctory feeling of duty. The pieces of jewellery Judy owned had hardly ever been worn by her. They were mostly courtesy of her parents, given on such occasions as her eighteenth birthday or her graduation from the Academy. Judy prized the (often somewhat elaborate and 'loud') bangles and pearls she had received from her family, but more out of sentimental value than as actual accessories to be worn out.
There was one smallish oblong box that Judy opened with a smile. It had been given to her by her grandfather and contained a single simple piece that had belonged to her grandmother – a handsome little brooch that was shaped as a cluster of three blueberries framed by several dainty leaves. The blueberries were represented by precious stones, their violet-bluish hue very dusky and pretty, and the leaves were crafted out of silver and painstakingly finished to perfection. Judy rather liked the brooch because it reminded her of her Nana – and home, the farm and Bunnyburrow, with the blueberry theme.
"Perhaps this once?" Judy told herself, pinning the brooch on to the breast pocket of her blazer carefully, and studying the result. She found to her surprise that it was apparently the 'missing touch' – the brooch stood out very nicely against the black-and-white fabric, and, as an extra bonus, brought out the purplish hints in Judy's eyes marvellously.
"What do you know, I may have picked a thing or two up, hanging out with FruFru," Judy thought, laughing a bit.
"Not to rush you or anything Carrots," came a voice that was starting to sound impatient, from behind the door. "But some of us have gotten grey fur, waiting around for you. You'll be late if you don't watch it."
"I'm ready, don't nag!" Judy called back, coming back to the present with a jolt.
With a final quick glance at her reflection, the rabbit brushed her sleeves down and stepped out into the sitting room.
"Ta-dah!" she exclaimed, more to justify her being enclosed in her room for so long than to demand any actual reaction.
Nick, who had been lounging on the couch, drinking yet more coffee and flicking through some magazine, looked up at her. The fox's reaction to Judy's appearance can be summarized thus: his eyebrows went up, his hand bearing the coffee mug remained suspended half-way to his mouth. A short pause ensued, during which Judy patiently waited for Nick to deliver some jokey comment about her appearance. To her surprise, no such remark came. The fox merely said, after a moment, his face never changing,
"Well, you seem to be ready Officer Fluff. We should be going then, I guess?"
"Yes, let's," Judy agreed, picking up her phone and rummaging around for her set of keys; "Thanks again for dropping me off, so to say! I'm a bit jittery as you can tell."
"Relax, you'll do fine," Nick assured her, jumping off the couch and stretching his arms. "Just remember 'press conference 101' if you're in a pinch."
"I will," Judy chuckled at the memory. "I just hope the ZNN headquarters building won't be too imposing. Let's go!"
The ZNN headquarters were way imposing. The monumental squarish building rose at least thirty stories high and glistened in the rays of the setting sun with a kind of metallic sheen that felt like steel.
"Please come inside with me," Judy begged.
"Don't be a baby bunny Carrots," Nick admonished her.
"Just as far as the reception desk and until the journalist comes down to fetch me, please," Judy reiterated.
"Nuh-uh," the fox shook his head.
Judy knew her friend well enough to be able to immediately employ the good tactic of negotiation.
"I'll do your dishes for three days," she proposed briskly.
Nick's ears shot right up at the offer.
"Five!" he countered.
"Four!" Judy held her paw up. "Final offer."
"You're on Carrots," Nick clapped his paws together happily. "Let's hustle."
The two animals made their way to the enormous revolving doors leading into the ZNN building and found themselves inside the spacey entrance hall, at the centre of which a clerk was seated at the reception desk, busily clicking away at a computer and taking calls. Judy approached the desk hesitantly, fervently grateful for Nick at her side, who seemed as unruffled as ever.
"Sir-Madam?" the clerk (a very agile and quick chimpanzee in a buttoned-up crisp shirt) addressed them questioningly, the moment they were in front of him. The chimpanzee held two receivers away from his mouth as he spoke, placing the calls on hold.
"Officer Hopps Sir," Judy presented herself, shooting for her 'no-nonsense' professional tone to hide her little qualm of fear. "ZPD. I'm here for an interview with a Miss Margaret Frost."
"Indeed," the clerk confirmed, after tapping hurriedly on his keyboard and checking the information that popped up. "Miss Frost has been expecting you, Officer. I'll buzz her to come down and get you, if you just wait here a second."
As the chimpanzee paged the message up to Miss Frost and immediately turned back to his calls, Nick faced Judy and smiled down at her.
"All good now Carrots? I'll leave you?"
"No!" Judy hissed. "You agreed to stay until the reporter came and got me."
"You're like a kit on the first day of kindergarten," Nick shook his head.
"I'd like to see you in my pawprints right now," Judy whispered furiously.
"Be professional for Pete's sake," Nick reprimanded her. "You're here representing the Force. Now look sharp Carrots, or rather, Officer."
"Officer?" came a voice from behind them, echoing Nick's last word, and the two friends turned simultaneously.
Judy had, in retrospect, spent so much time worrying over what clothes to wear, that she noticed the outfit of the journalist before actually noticing the animal herself, if that were possible. The rabbit's immediate reaction was relief, for the lady who had just arrived was dressed in a very similar fashion to what Judy had selected, in a navy tailored suit with blazer and pencil skirt, and a cream-colored shirt underneath.
It was after the shirt, because Judy had to look up at the taller animal, that the rabbit was a bit surprised at the familiarity of the shape of the newcomer's head, ears and nose and all, which were decidedly not feline. With a jolt Judy realized that Miss Frost was a fox, though her neat white fur tipped with black and eyes of pale grey obviously indicated an arctic fox. In everything except fur colour though, the newcomer resembled Nick, if she was a trifle smaller and slimmer and more feminine all in all. Judy wondered why it should surprise her that the reporter was a fox, but it did.
"Officer Hopps?" Miss Frost repeated, extending a paw to shake Judy's.
"You must be Miss Frost," Judy replied, snapping out of her reverie and accepting the paw for a shake. "We spoke on the phone earlier today."
"True true," Miss Frost showed almost all her teeth when she smiled. That was different from the way Nick grinned. "And once again I can not emphasize enough how grateful we are at the ZNN that you've accepted to come by! This is lovely."
"No problem," Judy replied, wondering why she had no trouble remembering with Miss Frost that the latter was a fox and that foxes and bunnies used to be enemies way back in the day, while with Nick she never had this effect. "Oh, Miss Frost – my partner, Officer Wilde. He was just seeing me off."
"How kind," Margaret Frost turned her attention to Nick, giving him the same even smile and pawshake. "Your introduction is quite unnecessary though Officer – as a fox, I of course am familiar with Officer Wilde's history. You opened quite a lot of doors for our species Officer, quite the opportunity to thank you for it in person."
The reporter laughed after having delivered this remark in a would-be joyous way, that made Judy think of ice shattering on a frozen pond for some reason. She glanced up at Nick, who had remained strangely quiet except for saying 'Pleasure' when he shook Miss Frost's paw. To her surprise, Judy saw Nick giving her a furtive but very intent look, that was obviously meant to convey some message. Judy was quite at a loss as to grasp its meaning though, and she stared back up at her friend, perplexed.
"Shall we then, Officer?" Miss Frost was saying, turning to walk to the elevators.
"Yup! See you then Nick?" Judy replied.
"Sure thing. I'll catch your interview at my Mom's," Nick answered. He caught Judy by the sleeve of her blazer as she was turning to follow Miss Frost though, and urgently whispered in her ear, while the unheeding reporter advanced further away, her back to them.
"Don't trust foxes Carrots. They can be real slippery, remember that, kay?"
Judy looked at him in surprise.
"You're a fox Nick," she pointed out.
Her friend gave her a wink.
"Don't trust other foxes Carrots," he corrected himself. "Good luck."
On this cryptic note, Nick turned on his heel and left her with a small wave, as Miss Frost called 'Officer?' over her shoulder, holding the elevator door open.
"Coming," Judy said, hurrying after Margaret.
Nicholas Piberius felt rather unsettled all the way over to his mother's. He walked leisurely along the street, heedless of the children kicking a soccer ball in the park nearby and the old ladies gossiping over picket fences, his feet taking him automatically to the well-known house.
Maybe he was becoming paranoid. It was gut feeling though, he had always trusted his gut and it had rarely let him down previously. He had not much liked the look of this Miss Frost at first glimpse. Prejudiced against your own kind, he told himself, shaking his head cynically. But he had reason to be so – most foxes he had met had been plotting, clever, sly animals. Well, with the exception of Mrs Nicholas Senior, his mother, whom he faced momentarily as she threw the door open upon hearing the doorbell.
"There you are Nicky," was how she greeted him, enveloping him in a hug. It was funny how she was shorter than him now, Nick thought, returning the embrace.
"Hey Mom, been doing OK?"
"Oh, fairly well, you know," Mrs Wilde replied, ushering him in and predictably heading to the kitchen. "Happy to see you Nicky, I've just put the pie in the oven, we'll be able to sample it in half an hour or so. I'll get the kettle on in the meantime, I have this very nice new Darjeeling—"
"No tea Mom, coffee please," Nick countered hurriedly.
"I thought you'd started to take tea sometimes?" his mother asked in surprise.
"Not me Mom, Hopps does," Nick corrected her. "The rabbit," he added, as if his mother still needed telling who Judy was.
"Oh yes, dear Judy," Mrs Wilde smiled, pulling a pot for the coffee out of a cupboard. "How is she doing then?"
"Fine fine," Nick settled down in the squishy armchair that had been his Dad's and that he always sat in when he came for a visit now. "She's going to be on TV tonight in fact."
"No," his mother looked at him, round-eyed. "Are you pulling my leg Nicky?"
"Nope, she's been pulled in for this interview for the ZPD and everything. She's going to be on ZNN."
"Goodness, I must record this!" his mother exclaimed, bustling about. "How exciting."
"Keep your fur on Mom, it's not for some time yet," Nick told his mother, laughing at her enthusiasm.
His mother was taking no chances though, so by the time the famous interview was finally about to start, the TV in the Wilde household had already been tuned in on the ZNN channel for at least forty minutes, and mother and son were seated in front of it, Nick eating a third helping of pie, and his mother watching the screen intently.
"Exclusive interview with ZPD's Offcier Hopps about public security issues!" Mrs Wilde exclaimed gleefully, pointing at the screen. "Here it is!"
"Cool it Mom, you'll be bouncing up and down like Hopps in a minute," Nick commented, though he was really rather curious to see the show himself.
It was rather amusing to see Judy appear on TV, ushered in by Miss Frost. The two animals seated themselves on the couch in front of the camera, the little sign on the screen indicating that the interview was being aired live. Nick was somewhat relieved to see that his partner appeared composed and relaxed.
As Margaret Frost started speaking, presenting herself and Judy and describing the issues that would be addressed, Nick's mother studied the scene carefully.
"I must say," was Mrs Wilde's comment. "She certainly looks very pretty."
Nick felt ridiculously pleased at this praise for no reason, and laughed uproariously to cover it.
"She'd sure be happy to hear you say that," he told his mother. "She all but tied her ears in a knot earlier today, trying to pick what to wear."
He turned to his Mom, and found her giving him a rather odd look.
"I was talking about the interviewer," Mrs Wilde explained after a moment's pause.
Nick felt rather silly.
"Oh," he said, unimpressively. "I thought you meant Hopps," he added unnecessarily, because he could think of nothing else to say on the spot.
"Yes, I got that," his mother sounded amused; She looked at the screen again, and turned back to her son. "Dear Judy looks very nice too," Mrs Wilde confirmed gravely.
If it were anyone else but his mother, Nick would have heartily said 'Oh shut up' at that point. As it were, he was forced to search for another more elegant escape from the sudden turn the conversation had unexpectedly taken, while his mother watched him evenly in a way that made him remember for some reason that she was the only fox he could never hustle successfully. It was unnerving the way she seemed to see into his very inner thoughts, ones he could not even see himself. Mrs Wilde was sharp you see, Nick had most definitely inherited her brains. He had trouble using them in a showdown against his Mom though.
"Can I have more pie?" was the next attempt he made at switching the topic.
"You still have a whole slice on the plate in front of yoru nose Nicky," Mrs Wilde replied, sounding rather entertained.
"Right," Nick agreed, after looking down at it. "I'll just.. eat this first then," and with this lame finish he sunk a bit into his seat, vowing he would take every precaution to make any further comments he uttered as non-committal as possible.
"Then hush dear, I'm trying to listen," his mother told him, turning the volume up.
The interview was going really well, and Nick wondered if he had warned Judy in vain. Miss Frost had a somewhat haughty manner, but she was definitely not trying to trap Judy in some verbal battle of wits, but taking her through questions they must have gone through before the camera started rolling. The rabbit replied readily and professionally to Margret's interrogations. Nick had to smile when Judy used the 'press conference 101' tactic from time to time, he could swear the bunny was holding back a grin herself on such occasions.
"We have covered security of the arenas and performance stages pretty well, haven't we Officer?" Miss Frost was saying, shuffling her papers and consulting her notes. "Your precisions about the sweeps the Force realizes in the days leading up to a public event were particularly insightful."
The arctic fox paused to allow Judy to comment. The rabbit was rather obviously enjoying herself at this point.
"Well," Judy sat straighter, addressing Miss Frost. "Is our top priority at precinct one the safety of every citizen of Zootropolis? Yes, yes it is."
Nick chuckled heartily.
"What is it Nicky?" his mother asked, shooting him a look.
"Hush, I'm listening," Nick replied innocently.
"What about all of the commerce and business owners that set up stands on the areas surrounding a public hall on the day a concert is to take place?" Miss Frost was saying. "It is a well-established fact that souvenir and food sellers make extra profit on such occasions too. But their stalls are often set up outside the space that is actually secured for the concert or show itself. What would you say about the risks these vendors are facing? And, if you please Officer," Margaret was holding a paw up, for Judy had already opened her mouth to reply. "Before you fill us in, I would like to invite another guest to join us who is concerned about precisely this same issue. Ladies and Gentlemamamls, if we could have a round of applause to welcome Mister Harry Henderson, who has exclusively informed us here at ZNN that his newest line of luxury chocolate figurines will be first sold at the upcoming autumn concert battle between pop singers Gazelle and El Lamo—"
It was him. Nick stared, forgetting to swallow his mouthful of pie, as Jack Savage glided onto the stage, greeted by polite clapping off-camera. The would-be-hare, actually rabbit, was nodding curtly at this welcome and taking a seat right next to Judy on the couch, his black suit very prim and sleek. It was obvious by Judy's slightly startled reaction that Miss Frost had not warned her of another guest that would be appearing during the interview; the rabbit officer was taking things in stride though, shaking the newcomer's paw civilly.
"For the love of – it's him Carrots!" Nick exclaimed, running his paws through his fur in agitation, as if Judy could hear him.
"Nicky, what is it?" his mother asked, startled.
"Oh just, nothing much, you know," Nick gabbled. He had seen Judy's eyebrows suddenly shoot up with shock, as Miss Frost continued with the introductions. Clearly the rabbit police officer had put two and two together, as the elements of 'hare' and 'chocolatier' and the physical appearance of Savage that fit so closely with what Nick had told her all clicked into place. An outsider would hardly have noted any change, but Nick observed very well the cool, even (and threatening?) look Savage gave Judy, and the stern look she returned as if to channel the fact that she was not intimidated so easily, but her paws were clasped together in her lap in the way she always clasped them when she was becoming nervous.
"Right," Nick was getting up quickly, discarding his plate of unfinished pie. "I had a ball Mom, sorry I can't stay any longer, but I just really have to head off now—"
"What, right now Nicky?" Mrs Wilde exclaimed. "But why on earth—"
"Something came up, I'll drop by again soon though," Nick was hugging her hurriedly and heading to the door. "I love ya, you're the greatest, I'll see ya soon – I brush my teeth – and my fur – most days – see ya Mom—" he was out the door.
It was only when he was half-way down the street, going as fast as he could to make it back to the ZNN headquarters, that Nick suddenly thought that, for once, his mother had not nagged him at all about settling down and starting a family of his own.
"She's given up hope," Nick thought in mild amusement. Part of him was fervently grateful for this realization, but the (far greater) part of him was busy on the task at paw – hurrying along, as it were - and feverishly praying that he make it to the other end of downtown before the live interview were over and Judy found herself at a risk of being cornered by Savage.
"She really has given up all hope, that's got to be why she didn't even mention any new sock patterns," the first part of Nick's mind, the one that had been going over his visit at his Mom's, concluded with relief, before switching off that line of thought so that the fox could focus all of his attention and mounting panic on what lay ahead.
A word is necessary here to explain this 'sock pattern' business.
Mrs Wilde, you see, had her own dreams and hopes for the future, like most animals did. Oh, they had nothing to do with her own person (or creature more accurately). Mrs Wilde had everything she had ever wished to have. She had had a pleasant childhood and youth, uneventful perhaps to the outside observer, but richly full of detail in her own opinion, enough to satisfy her amply. She kept many cherished memories of those days when she was a small kit, playing dolls with her sisters at her parents' home, or of when she was a young vixen, moving downtown, attending college, making friends, gossiping, flirting, going out on Friday nights.
She had married Nicholas senior, whom had been the love of her life. There was an ache inside her since he had gone that could never be quite vanquished. But then, there was Nicholas Junior, Nick, Nicky. She had only had the one kit, but he was, in her opinion, all any mother could ever wish for, and more than enough.
Well, there had been that harrowing period when she was more than certain that (though he did not tell her much about his everyday comings and goings) her son was following in the somewhat doubtful pawprints of her husband. Like father like son, she had mused cynically. And despite her best efforts, one could add. A fox was a fox after all, her sisters and cousins would say; and heaven knew, many of their children were involved in business that seemed as shady, if not more so, than that of her son's.
And then, miraculously, gloriously, it was all over in the most wonderful of ways. Nick was done with his hustling scams, of this she was certain, and he had lived up to his childhood dreams by enrolling at the Police Academy, graduating with honours, and pursuing a career at the ZPD. Not to mention, it now seemed that he had acquired several friends that seemed to be perfectly lovely and reliable folk. And that, from one of the most clichéd fox occupations possible, he had risen to something that had never been associated with their species before.
Yes, Mrs Wilde was proud of her son, and pleased with how her life had turned out all in all. She would not have changed anything, not have gone back and 'lived it out differently this time', and she was positive that she would not have her son be an iota different from whom he was for the world.
And yet... though she didn't want to take anything out of her life, there was certainly something she had always dreamed of adding to it. A rosy dream that came and went on sunny mellow afternoons. And that was where the sock-knitting came in. Mrs Wilde had quite a knack with the knitting needles, and sock patterns were her particular pride in that respect. (Socks used by the cubs and kits in that world were a tiny bit different from those we know, in that they were more like muffs for one's paws, protecting the ankles, but leaving the paw itself open for comfortable walking. They resembled small woolly tubes to be pulled on over one's paws.) She had adored making Nick any and every kind of imaginable pair of socks he had asked for while he was a kit. When he had grown too old for soccer ball patterns, Mrs Wilde had been quite undaunted, convinced that her talent would be further required a decade or two along for a new youngster, or maybe even several.
So sure of this eventual outcome was she, that she had never stopped knitting and improving her skill over time and increasing the complexity of the patterns she mastered. There was nothing she liked more than to settle down in her favourite worn-out squishy armchair on a rainy Sunday afternoon, with chipped cup of tea at her elbow and the radio tuned in to a review of the classics, and pull her knitting gear out. As the notes of Cheetahkovskiy would spill out and whirl around the small sitting room, Mrs Wilde would take a sip of her hot drink and frown thoughtfully over the sketch of the newest pattern she was attempting to master. She'd map it out as a sketch on paper first, nod to herself, mutter a bit, drink her tea, hum absently along with the music and only then would she start clicking away with the knitting needles unhurriedly She enjoyed the process as much (if not more) than the actual outcome of her labours.
That is, as our learned reader will probably know, one of the great secrets to human - and animal - happiness. So caught up do we sometimes get in 'reaching the result' in one endeavour or another, that we forget to actually wallow in the delicious pleasures of the getting there. This is quite dangerous, as the very zest in life is in that pleasure of the effort of achieving, more even than in the fruit of achievement.
In not fully tasting this pleasure, no one could accuse Mrs Wilde. For she not only went about this business of sock knitting in such an agreeable manner as had been described, but she accompanied her work with little daydreams that would waft around a vision of herself, perhaps some not many years from today, walking a small red-furred kit, who would have perhaps inherited the green Wilde eyes, down the street, the socks she had made warming his little feet, a popsicle in one paw and her hand clasped tightly with his other paw.
Her chest would swell with pride and her breath catch happily at the image. She could just picture herself stopping patiently at all of the toyshops, the windows of which the youngster would like to peek into, standing on his toes She could also imagine being stern when he begged for another popsicle, the way she had always been with Nick. (She was certain that any offspring of Nick's would inherit his sweet tooth.) And of course she could imagine only too clearly meeting her various friends as they strolled along, their enthusiastic cooing over her grandkit, and the casual remarks she would make in reply. 'Yes, this is Nicky's youngest. He is already turning four next month, can you believe how the time flies? I know, he'll be outgrowing that pair in no time, but I'll make some more socks of the same pattern, he does like them so much. His eyes you say? Yes, he did inherit Nick's - third generation of Wildes with the emerald eyes! I knew how it would be; why, I was joking with Nicky's wife about it while she was expecting junior here.'
Well, she did not mind so much about the eyes, or the appearance at all, Mrs Wilde admitted to herself. It would be lovely if the green eyes kept popping up in further generations of Wildes, but it did not matter in itself, all that mattered was that her grandkit grow up to be happy. Perhaps Nick's wife would have lovely eyes of some other colour and the kit would inherit them? What kind of vixen would Nick marry? Mrs Wilde wondered a lot about this, idly at first, and more urgently as the years crept by and no such vixen appeared on the horizon.
She had kept on knitting the socks resolutely over the years, and storing them in a handsome carved oak chest that stood in the corner of the sitting room. Nick had opened the lid once idly while visiting her, and asked in amusement if she was planning to open a sock shop when he witnessed the contents. Upon learning that these garments were meant for her future grandkits (the quantity of hosiery in the trunk suggested indeed that Nick would father a small legion of kits at least) Nick had given his mother a look of such pure abashed terror, that she had had to smile.
"Mom," he had said, covering his eyes with a paw. "Hate to break this to you but - not - going - to - happen - ever. So why not donate the lot to Oscar? He'll surely have ten kits or something, and you can be their fairy grand aunt of the magic clicking needles and wool. That sound about right?"
It sounded all wrong. Particularly when her sister had told her that her son, the afore-mentioned Oscar, was expecting his firstborn child within the month. Three years had passed since that day, and Oscar had fulfilled Nick's prophecy thus far, him and his wife having a new kit year after year. Mrs Wilde was understandably happy for her sister but she could not help feeling a bit resentful as each spring seemed to bring fresh happy news on that side of the family. She faithfully made socks for her grand-nieces and grand-nephews, but one gets a sneaky suspicion that she did not put quite so much effort into the patterns she designed for those pairs, as she had put into the ones still faithfully stored away in the wooden chest. Nor had she derived as much pleasure from their making.
On that fateful week-end when Judy was called in for the interview, it had been indeed quite a few months since any new sock had found its way to the inside of the chest. It would seem that Mrs Wilde had really lost hope, just as Nick had suspected. Her little images of strolling down the street paw in paw with her grandchildren had seemed hazier than ever at the time.
And yet, hope is a funny thing, especially when it is coupled with a mother's instinct. See, there had been nothing particular said or even hinted during Nick's brief visit at his mother's. And yet, she felt surprisingly chipper as she saw him off, though he was dashing off to aid a friend apparently in great need. Mrs Wilde disregarded this alarming event with the calm confidence that her son would handle the situation efficiently, as he was prone to do, and went about her house humming a happy tune. She had had vague plans for the remainder of the day - she was supposed to go over to one of her sister's to bring her a jar of freshly made rasberry jelly, and drop by at an old friend's who was poorly enough to keep to bed for a couple of days, but by no means too poorly to be unable to engage in gossipy chit-chat. All those pleasant plans were cast aside however, and Sunday evening found Mrs Wilde as it had not found her for many a month: brewing a pot of tea, putting the radio on and fetching her knitting needles. The mother fox was incredibly cheerful as she set about fixing the pattern of a tiny sock she had started many moons ago.
It could happen, she told herself firmly, unravelling some jolly straw colored wool to put in a star design on the top of a dark blue background. Goodness knew how it would come about. But it could. She had found her son different somehow. Different in a way she could not quite put her paw on, but in a way that, she felt in her gut, made her dream of showing her grandkits off a touch closer to reality.
"It could happen," she repeated to herself again, laying the first peak of the yellow star into the pattern. "Don't ask me how, but it could. And, if it ever happens..." she cast the oak chest a fond look before turning back to her work and focusing on the woolly star, a tiny smile playing on her lips and lighting her features.
Her son Nick was at this same instant turning into the lane leading to the huge glossy ZNN building, blissfully focused on his own urgent business and unaware of his mother's preoccupations. Had he known of them, one can only guess what he would have had to say.
The moment when Nick was catching a first glimpse of the revolving doors at the entrance of the ZNN headquarters was the exact moment when Margaret was making a cutting gesture with her paw, signalling the operator in charge of the main camera.
"And done," she was announcing in tones of relief. "But isn't it charming to have that one be over and wrapped up with! Yes Artemis, what is it now?" and the young arctic fox was turning her attention to her assistant as he came scurrying over, his paws overflowing with notes apparently pertaining to a certain segment of the footage that had just been recorded.
And Judy was blinking as the sudden bright lamplight was dimmed, the cameras rolling no longer, and taking deep breaths to steady her suddenly racing heart as somewhere at her elbow she heard Jack Savage pronounce in a quiet even tone meant only for herself,
"I wouldn't go so far as to say it was quite wrapped up now."
Judy turned to face the other rabbit head on, figuring that fear and cowering solved nothing.
Savage was staring at her, his ice blue eyes so cold and empty of any shred of compassion that it made her flinch.
"Would you agree Miss Hopps?" he added, his lips parting in a mock-friendly grin that held no sincerity of feeling.
Though phrased as a question, Judy felt that his remark was really more of an affirmation.
She could feel the fur on the back of her head and neck stand on end and prickle. Her mouth was quite dry, making it all but impossible for her to answer even if she could have thought of something good on the spot after surviving the bombardment of interview questions.
Judy realized suddenly that she was afraid, and on the heels of that realization her mind whispered inconsequently and pitifully in the back of her head, "Oh, Nick."
Nick was not, of course, there to help her (as far as the rabbit police officer knew at least).
The bunny felt very alone in that second suspended in time.
Dun dun duuunn! Oh no, what's going to happen now? I'm on the edge of my seat!
Well, not so much actually, because I *do* know what will happen ;) But the rest of you will have to wait and come back in two weeks' time to find out.
Thank you for reading, leave your thoughts if thus inclined as usual!
New sketch up on Irina-bourry DOT deviantart DOT com and irina-bourry DOT tumblr DOT com, this time portraying what I imagined Judy's outfit for the interview to look like.
And a question if anyone feels like musing over it – What do you think of Jack Savage? Do you think it a shame that he never made the final cut in the film and do you think there is any chance he'll appear in the second movie?
Later everyone :)