Chapter 6: A clean… cut?

'White'—the first thing her mind told her upon waking. She was staring at the white ceiling, drenched in sweat. She had had that dream again. Her dream…. Wouldn't they ever end? Maybe someday. Maybe.

A stray thought entered her mind and was cast upon the spotlight of her mental focus. 'Do you want them to end—though?' Where had that thought come from? It was true that she enjoyed those dreams in more ways than one. Not dreaming of Nick would mean Nick wasn't in her life anymore. Oh no—she wouldn't ever separate from the tod again! Groaning, only now did the rabbit notice the reason why she had awoken in the first place: her daily 5 AM alarm.

Awkwardly removing the blanket draped about her, Judy proceeded to sit up against the couch, fumbling for her carrot-phone that still resided within one of her pant pockets. The dimmed light that shone through Nick's black curtains affirmed that it was—indeed—morning—or at least day.

Upon getting up from the couch, the well-memorised morning routine of the doe flashed to life in her mind. She usually went for a jog right about now and considered fetching her running shoes. That was when she remembered where she was.

Nick.

Nick needed to be at work in a bit less than two hours. If she left now, she might get in the way of his preparations. To be fair, she could do both, but, honestly, what she had in mind for the fox was more important to her than her morning run—as much as she did love it—and she wanted to take her time today to make sure everything was perfect.

No—she'd show him how much she valued him. Although the doe didn't think he doubted her intentions, she knew that actions spoke louder than words. Smiling, Judy stretched and headed off.

It was rather dark, still; subsequently, she went about opening all the curtains of the main room, opening the windows inwards for good measure. Powerful rays of sunlight blasted her as soon as the first was uncovered, causing her to squint against the stark contrast that was the radiance that now illuminated the apartment. Outside, the aftermath of yesterday's storm could be seen: littered sidewalks, uprooted vegetation, and ripped-up trash bags. Judy opened her eyes a bit further; had she already forgotten about that? Thinking back on it, she didn't actually remember hearing about a storm. How could that be? Anyway, she shook her head; that was in the past—the present required her full attention.

Finally able to properly make out her surroundings, the doe headed towards the bathroom to switch her clothes. A bright-red long-sleeved shirt and black sweatpants now replaced her worn apparel. Considering, this could have been her running wear—that was no longer her priority, though—Nick was her priority. Nick was always her priority.

Again in the main room, the rabbit took note of her surroundings. What was most obvious was the general mess his place was: nearly everything was out of place, and his paintings hung askew. On his coffee table stood several dirty mugs, and his kitchen was littered with further unclean dishes.

Lifting one of her hind paws, Judy noticed the dust and dirt stains that had accumulated from walking barefoot across the dark wooden panelling, promptly swiping her paw across it several times to clean it. Unfortunately, it would get dirty again soon. Quirking an eyebrow, the lance of sunlight that shone through the window caught her eye next. There, innumerable particles of dust were revealed to be swirling about chaotically.

If that wasn't enough, Judy took a good smell of the air. While her nose might not be as acute as the one of her canine—lover? Partner, at least—even she recoiled from the sharp smell present. Of course, there was the smell of his musk, the smell that made her nerves go numb and projected unwholesome images in her mind, but that wasn't it; the air smelled… old and grimy. The windows were open now, so at least that would be alleviated sometime soon.

Truly, his place was a mess; she was prepared to do something about that later that day. But, as it was now, it might wake the sleeping beauty that could be heard snoring throughout the apartment.

'I wonder if he is sleeping well….'

She certainly had her work cut out for her that day. Anyway, she stepped closer and closer to the converging point of every household: the kitchen. Arriving there, Judy found the countertop to be equally caked in dust; her paw that had trailed over said surface accumulated a considerable grime stain. In response, she rubbed the two paws together to rid herself of the copious dust.

Nick wasn't a messy mammal, that much she knew, but, on the other hand, he barely seemed himself yesterday. The state of one's appearance and housing spoke loads about one's personality, she knew; therefore, he must have really been out of it the last couple of days.

Judy couldn't help but smirk at the thought of him missing her that much. Truth be told, she had missed him as well. She was confident they shared the sentiment of being united once more.

Where was she? Kitchen—right.

A smile overtook her muzzle as she glanced at the double-doored fridge. There, several photos were attached to both doors by magnets. She had seen the images before, but they made her ears perk up every time. In one, his ZPA graduation could be seen. She had given a speech and pinned his badge to his chest, all thanks to chief Bogo, who had been nothing but kind to her after the Nighthowler case. All other graduating officers had been given their badge by the chief himself, but he had made an exception for her when it came to the first fox police officer. It had been a sunny day—though a bit windy, the doe recalled.

In another picture, they sat on a park bench together, with Nick casually holding her in a side hug; he had taken the photo as he has significantly longer arms. They were both smiling goofily into the phone. And, on yet another picture, she saw only herself, dressed in her police blues, hands on her hips, staring fearlessly into the camera; the illumination came from behind by the waning light of dusk. That was taken at her apartment, she remembered—he must have printed it out.

"Let's see…," the doe muttered after her short reminiscing, opening the fox's fridge and taking stock of the available items. The cold light of it painted her face further and further as she opened the door slowly before it stood fully open.

'Great, nothing.'

The scent emanating from it made her reel, and, to her dismay, the fridge held very little. Luckily, the odour of meat was weak: the one item she hoped not to find. Tapping her digits on her chin, the doe considered again.

"Opened tins… half-used condiments… aaa~nd no vegetables as far as the eye can see…" she uttered aloud.

Was there nothing she could use? His fridge needed to be restocked desperately. Disregarding the adjoining freezer, as she had no time to thaw anything, the doe inspected the fridge anew—there had to be something.

Her eyes lit up; the inside of the fridge door held half-a-dozen-or-so eggs—they were all brown. The fox had made pancakes for them earlier that week. So, while it was one thing to be served pancakes, it was another to actually cook with eggs herself.

Reaching inside and up, she took hold of an egg in her paw and withdrew from the fridge. But, just before she could place it on the chest-high counter, it cracked from the pressure of her paw.

"Cheese and Crackers! Why are they so fragile?" she bickered. The two substances, one white, the other yellow, felt funny against her fur. Cold—mostly. They quickly proceeded to drip to the floor, staining the boards further.

The memories of those predator cooking shows came rushing back; she'd slapped herself in the face if her paw weren't egg-stained: of course, they were fragile! And that weren't just two nameless liquids that wetted her fur—those were clearly the egg-white and the nutritious yolk.

Shaking her head, the doe regarded her phone. Too much time had already passed; she needed to pick up her pace if she were to surprise the tod. Reaching for a wipe, the mess was quickly cleaned both from herself and the floor, and she could let her cooking commence.

'At least there are a good amount of eggs….'

With several of them now lying on the counter, Judy went about locating a pan, which she quickly found tucked inside the oven. About to pour oil into it, her brain pointed out an immediate problem to her: what would she even cook? Surely she can't just prepare pancakes again; he had made those recently. Furthermore, how were they even prepared? Oh well, that wasn't the problem—her phone held all the information regarding that.

'Scrambled eggs, maybe?' she considered.

Oh, yeah. Those were quick and easy. At least, that was what the cooking shows had always told her. Grabbing the short wooden step stool nearby, Judy placed it in front of the stove and stepped onto it, giving her the small extra height she needed to work the roundabout fox-sized kitchen. Pouring the oil into the pan at last and turning the dial on the hotplate to its limit, she waited for it to reach the proper temperature.

Mere minutes later, her testing paw, hovering centimetres over the pan, deemed it sufficiently heated, and she proceeded to crack the eggs inside—one after another.

"Dammit!" she cursed.

She had cracked the first egg with too much enthusiasm, leading some of the shell to land inside the pan. Without thinking, Judy reached out and took the piece of the shell between two digits, pulling it out.

Cursing again, she shook her hand sharply several times. She didn't have much time, though, as the eggs needed to be scrambled, lest she got an omelette. The remaining eggs were cracked somewhat more skilfully, resulting in five of them being inside the pan. Now brandishing a spatula scavenged from a nearby drawer, Judy stirred the eggs so as to divide the solid mass of hardened eggs into smaller pieces.

Her eyes opened wide: she'd almost forgotten the seasoning!

"Ugggghhhhhh…," the fox groaned, slowly stirring to life, laying haphazardly in his bed. He yawned, his muzzle opening wide for several seconds before it clamped shut again. He took a whiff of the air, his nostrils flaring. That smell…

'Eggs?' he thought incredulously. Was he still dreaming? The tod shuddered, recalling some of his dream—it hadn't been pleasant. Chasing Judy. Judy.

His line of thought was interrupted by another deep inhale. Wait. If he smelled eggs… Was Judy making eggs? Was she awake already? To be fair, she always rose early, no matter the day, he remembered.

Gaining ever more consciousness in his, thanks to his blackout curtains, still-dark room, he slowly realised his blanket wasn't covering his body; rather, tilting his head lazily to the side, he found it lying on the floor a metre or so away from his bed. Russet-coloured fur was strewn across his bed; was he stress-shedding? It didn't matter, at least not right now.

Sitting up, he rubbed the backside of his head, his long fur brushing against his digits. Then, pointing his muzzle upwards, the tod took another deep inhale through his nostrils and could all but see Judy standing in the kitchen. Was she making breakfast? Well, what else would explain the smell of cooking?

The thought of Judy brought a smile to the ex-hustler. He couldn't express in words how happy he was for her to still be here with him. So much so that, for a second, he considered to still be dreaming. He wouldn't have that splitting headache right now if he were dreaming, though.

Squinting and unsquinting his eyes forcefully, the fox stood up and stretched hard and long. As he was accustomed to, he began making his bed. First, he pulled the dark-blue sheet tight, removing any folds. Then, he fetched the light-blue blanket, shook it thoroughly in an undulating fashion, moved in front of his bed, and let it glide onto his bed in a parachute-like motion. Finally, he went towards his white pillow and fluffed it up, much as he did with his blanket.

Although excited to see Judy again, the fox remained diligent in his work, as he loved to be. While his species wasn't known for it, the fox took pride in being neat. For that reason, he was kind of ashamed of the state of his apartment. He simply wasn't able to summon the strength and clean it, or himself—for that matter—in the last couple of days. He didn't have time now, either, as it was…." He went over to his phone resting on the nightstand, turning on the display. " …almost 7 AM! At least he'd save some time if he were correct in his guess about Judy's activities.

Yawning one last time, the fox was just about to stride out of his door when he noticed his lack of clothes; he was only clad in his usual black boxers. In an effort to remain decent, he put on one of his half-a-dozen-or-so green pawaiian shirts. Feeling unoriginal, the tod further grabbed his trusty beige trousers from his wardrobe and a red-and-green-chequered tie before finally striding out of his room, his paws held high to either side of his head in jubilation.

"Morning, Carrots!" he yelled, in his eyes a bright shine, before continuing teasingly. "What is that I smell—eggs? How did I deserve you?" The barrier that had been his door removed left Nick to stare towards Judy unobstructed. Sure enough, she was standing in the kitchen, cooking eggs—scrambled eggs, even, as it seemed.

After shuddering at the sudden intake of fox in her peripheral, she directed her gaze towards him and greeted him in kind. "A good morning to you too, Slick." Blushing at his tease, she couldn't help but tease back, "What makes you think these are for you?"

Striding up lazily beside her as she was currently seasoning the scrambled eggs with salt and pepper, Nick first looked at the sizable pan and then at Judy, more or less at eye level due to the chair she was standing atop. Invading her personal space, his muzzle not too far away from hers, the tod flashed her a toothy grin without much thought.

"That is an awful lot of eggs for one bunny…." he pointed out conversationally, pointing toward the cast-iron pan.

Despite herself, she made a noise of distress at the sight of his pearly whites before catching herself, scowling. It caused him to withdraw. But, before he could get away from her, she took a decisive hold of his tie, close to his neck, and stared into his emerald eyes. After a few seconds, the silent message had been exchanged, and she punched him playfully on his shoulder, releasing him shortly after. He stumbled backwards but caught himself on the counter.

"Yes, Nick. I made you breakfast," Judy explained, smiling once more. Now to see whether he liked it….

"Very kind of you, Fluff," he answered, moving towards her again, readying two dishes, as well as cutlery for them. "Here you go."

The eggs just about done, the doe used her spatula to portion them onto the two plates as Nick still held onto them with a paw each. Her plate held a smaller portion: not only did she need to eat less than her fox, but she wasn't quite sure whether she'd like the raw taste of eggs or not.

Judy filled the empty pan with water, added a bit of soap, turned off the heat, and followed her partner wordlessly to the nearby table, proceeding to sit down across from him.

"Sorry, Nick," she told him, her ears drooping slightly. "I'd have liked to add onions or bell pepper or some such, but your fridge is nigh empty. At least I found those eggs."

"Mhh," he mumbled, chewing on his first forkful of eggs. Then, emptying his mouth, he spoke again. "It's fine, Carrots; these are delicious anyways. We'll need to go shopping soon, though—you are right." After some time, he added, "Have you slept well?"

Just before emptying her own forkful of eggs into her muzzle, Judy opened her eyes wide at the offhanded question, several images coming to life inside her mind. "The usual," she stated bluntly, her heart skipping a beat or two. "You?"

The fox all but mimicked her response. His tail hung to the floor through the hole in the framed back support of his wooden chair. "You know, Judy," he told her, rubbing the backside of his furred head with his free paw.

As the minutes passed, the pair continued to eat in silence, with Nick practically devouring the eggs. For her part, Judy found the exotic dish to be not nearly as revolting as she'd imagined it to be. Still, the eggs were quite different from what she'd usually ingest, and she'd need to get used to the taste—it was bearable. At that, she remembered the wonders the eggs did to the pancakes Nick had prepared recently: they had been incredibly airy and soft—like a cloud. Much better than the ones she'd made with egg-substitute. Thinking along those lines, the doe recalled their incredible nutritious value. All in all, she was glad that her experience with eggs wasn't as bad as the one she had had with fish.

Finishing her thoughts, Judy rested her fork on the plate—it landed on it with a 'clack' of metal against porcelain. Then, lifting her muzzle, Nick came into her field of view again. He'd emptied his plate almost completely; hers was still half full.

The mesmerising display of the eating fox captivated her for some time. For inexplicable reasons, or, rather, several combined reasons, Judy couldn't avert her eyes from the vulpine.

At last, he finished. "Thank you, Fluff. Now—I really have to get going."

"Of course, of course," the doe replied, beaming, as Nick was already up and away, darting around his apartment to grab this and that, preparing himself for his upcoming shift.

Sometime later, the gorgeous-looking fox presented himself to her in his police uniform, his fur immaculate, his face shining like a star at night at the sight of her. Standing on the step stool, Judy was still in the process of cleaning their dishes as Nick approached her from the side, much like before. She stopped what she'd been doing and dried her paws on the towel that always hung from the front of the stove.

Suddenly, the fox wrapped his arms around her before kissing the top of her head, right between her two long ears. After a moment of fixation, the doe returned the embrace tightly.

Rubbing one of her paws on the back of his police uniform, she said, "See you soon, Slick." She didn't like him leaving, but she knew he had to. Furthermore, it would allow her to do a thing or two in his apartment. His embrace was a reminder of what she'd be missing the whole day. Recently, she had two reasons for wanting to come in to work: making the world a better place AND Nick. Just great.

Her eyes lost that dreamy spark that he had created with his following words. "Don't bet on it, Judy. I have a feeling I'll be working overtime—call it a hunch."

Before she had much time to respond, the fox thanked her again, wished her well and went out of the door, presumably to catch the next transit to the ZPD.

About to stand up, Judy heard a knocking at the door, followed by an all too familiar voice. "Judy! I forgot my keys!"

Sighing, she strode towards the door and opened it, handing him his keys she grabbed from the small table beside the door. "Don't be too long," she said, placing the keys inside his outstretched paw, sandwiching it between her own. She winced at the contact the claws made with her upper paw but deliberately pressed firmer as if to prove a point. To her, to him—she didn't know.

Then, finally, the fox strode out of the door for what was most likely the last time that day.

The tod out of sight, Judy shook her paw, noting the slight indentations his claws had created—no blood, luckily. Still, it hurt. She shook her head at the frantic footsteps outside her door—the doe considered her next action. It wasn't like there was a lack of things to do around his apartment; no, every nook and cranny could use some tidying….

Not too much later, she was shivering; the windows were still open. Making her way throughout the apartment, Judy went about closing them again, the rooms now sufficiently aired out. Again she faced the same conundrum: what to do first? Usually, she liked to create action plans and schedules in advance she'd then act upon with immaculate deliberation. Now, though, she didn't have any of those ready and needed to create them first.

Her paw tapping on the floor created a whirlwind of dust swirling about her, causing her to cough. It was clear, now, what she'd do first.

Truth be told, the doe didn't actually know about Nick's cleaning facilities; there had never been a need for her to clean anything in his apartment—it was usually pristine. Striding around the main room, Judy looked every which way, searching for a place he could store such items. Surely, he'd keep them ready at all times, considering his knack for keeping everything in its place.

"Aha!" she exclaimed, opening one of his kitchen cabinets beside his stove. There, on the floor, several things stood. Among them, multiple brands of glass cleaners, spare kitchen soap, a bucket with a flat mop inside, and a black vacuum cleaner.

She'd just need the vacuum cleaner for now. So, pulling it out, she proceeded to size it up. Fumbling with the handle body that was connected to the main part of the vacuum through the hose, she found the device to be maybe a little larger than she'd have liked, but she'd manage.

Although the most blatant obstacles on the floor have already been removed by her partner, some items were still left out of place—those would hinder her vacuuming. So henceforth, she went about and picked up stray items of clothing stashed in corners, placing them in the bathroom clothing bin; moved the couch to squarely face the TV; and, for good measure, righted all the paintings she could find.

Now, finally, she could start working. Oh, but just before that, she plugged in-ear headphones into her carrot phone, listening to her favourite music as she liked to do with any lengthy task.

The time passed akin to the flow of a river stream. The clock's hands were spinning rapidly as Judy continued both her task and her listening. Every corner, every crevice. Back and forth, back and forth, the brush went, slowly but surely ridding the apartment of dust. The doe went about it with practised ease, only slightly hampered by the large handle she held onto, the loud noise of the vacuum drowned out by her music still.

Eventually, she deemed her progress sufficient and put the device against a nearby wall. Now that the floor was clean, other surfaces needed to follow. She wouldn't be content with half-finished work. No. Especially not when she was to impress Nick. While she did it for herself, too, she mainly wanted to do Nick a favour.

Now, Judy took hold of Nick's microfibre-towel-on-a-stick and started to clean all the flat surfaces around the house that were still dusty. The kitchen, the coffee table, the dinner table, the top of drawers, lamp tops…. Sometime later, she was finished with both the main room's furniture and the bathroom. Now, only one room remained: Nick's bedroom.

To be frank with herself, Judy didn't want to enter his bedroom—she even left it out while cleaning. Having cleaned literally every other part of his housing, she knew she needed to clean this room as well–she'd keep her eyes on the floor. She'd need to enter and really pay attention to his belongings to clean them properly. One couldn't exactly dust and clean blind. Well, one could, but it would risk breaking items by knocking them to the floor. That was the last thing she wanted.

Stuck between a rock and a hard place, Judy inhaled deeply before putting her left paw on the knob of the door, twisting it gently. The door swung open, and the rabbit was greeted with the sight of the fox's most intimate room—his 'den'.

The unadulterated musk of him hit her in the face as she crossed the threshold. Although the rest of his apartment bore his scent, his bedroom smelled much more intensely of him. Already uncomfortable before, her heart shifted into its next gear at her continued lingering inside.

Barely able to keep from bolting out, she surveyed the room that she now stood amidst open-eyed. It was medium-sized and square, with the entrance door equidistant from both walls. It was about twice as large as the bathroom, which is to say about the size of her own apartment. The floor and ceiling were the same as the rest of the house. Only the wallpaper differed; instead of a dull green, it was an equally dull shade of blue.

In addition to his fox-sized bed to the middle of the right wall, together with a nightstand at its side, the room was filled with a high dresser on the left wall—opposite the bed. To the left of said dresser stood a cupboard, presumably full of clothes, upon which stood paraphernalia. Additionally, a brightly coloured rug lay next to the bed. The walls were further adorned by several landscape paintings, much like the rest of the apartment. At the far side of the entrance were two wooden wall-mounted shelves underneath each other, filled with books of differing shapes and sizes, none of which Judy instantly recognised besides the ZPD handbook. Lastly, next to the shelves was one rather large, rectangular, curtained window.

In contrast to the rest of the apartment, the fox seemed to have kept the room clean. Even his bed was finely made. Whether he had never gotten it dirty or mustered the willpower to clean just this room, she didn't know. Nonetheless, it seemed almost as immaculate as the rest of the rooms that she had just cleaned herself. Though, glancing at the cupboard, she found it to be topped by a fine sheen of dust. That wouldn't do. After employing her micro-fibre towel that she still held onto, lifting all the paraphernalia in the process so as to clean under them, Judy stopped in her tracks upon looking at the cupboard once more. The top drawer was slightly pulled out, just enough for her to make out—what appeared to be—a picture frame. While the reasonable part of her told her to close the drawer immediately and return to whatever she had wanted to do after this—she'd forgotten it all of a sudden—another part of her was more than mildly intrigued at the picture that was stored within said frame. Approaching the drawer further with shaky steps, she put her free paw to the knob in the middle of the drawer and slo~wly pulled it out further, looking left and right as if she wouldn't be the only person in this apartment for hours to come.

Her mouth dropped open, and the towel fell to the floor. As the neutral scent of his clothes hit her, a hint of his musk from them still perceivable, she found it to be, indeed, a picture frame that rested upon some of his clothes. The frame wasn't what was important—the picture was. In said picture stood, who was very clearly, a teenage Nick. Behind him, on one side, she could see an unfamiliar figure: a vixen, she was all but sure, who rested one of her arms on Nick's shoulder.

'His mother?' she thought incredulously, taking the picture frame in both of her paws.

They both looked so happy, smiling at her, situated before some yellow wall she didn't recognise. The averagely-built vixen was wearing an innocuous yellow dress, her fur much the same as Nick's. Additionally, she had the same eye colour as him: stunning emerald-green.

All but confirming her suspicion, at the bottom right of the frame stood a name written in a fancy hand: 'Marigan', it read, adjoined by a small, red heart.

Oh, sweet cheese and crackers! She wasn't supposed to see this. And now she couldn't exactly un-see it either. The cogs of her mind turned wildly, producing smoke that threatened to set off the fire alarm on the ceiling.

If that was indeed Nick's mother, why had he never mentioned her? But, much more obviously, if that was his mother, where was his father? What caused mother and son to separate? She recalled that he hadn't told her much of his past, other than that one time on the Ferris wheel in the rainforest district, so she didn't have much to go off of. But, then again, she shouldn't have seen this, to begin with! If Nick intended to share his secrets with her, then he would do so in his own time.

She knew what made Nick tick by now: the mammal needed plenty of space—it wasn't that he didn't trust her with things that were important to him. On the contrary: she'd changed him for the better, even in this aspect—he often confided problems he faced to her, as is apparent by the last couple of days, she remembered.

Now though. Would she ask him about it, or would she keep quiet? It was clear that Nick hadn't intended her to learn of what she was all but sure was his mother, but now she knew. It would claw at her not to speak of it, but it might just break the glass-thin pane of, for lack of a better word, trust they had reestablished after their breakup if she did mention her findings.

She was honestly torn standing there, clutching the picture frame, her eyes darting all over it, studying it intently as if the prolonged eye-contact would give her answers. It didn't. And, eventually, she realised that as well. Devoid of any emotion other than sheer confusion, the doe replaced the picture frame in the drawer and closed it up before heading out of the room again, taking with her all of the equipment that she had brought in earlier.

How much time had passed? She shrugged.

The lights of the city passed by the fox as the high-speed train he was a passenger of weaved its way through the metropolis, guided by the railings that were its road. The handle beneath his paw felt sweaty as he continued clinging to it, his arm beside his head to reach it—the loop extended from the ceiling. All his features hung low as he stood amidst all kinds of mammals. The smell would have been overwhelming to him at any other time, but he found it easy to tune out; if he let go of said loop, he might just fall over. Only one thing mattered to the tod this evening: home. Arriving home, seeing Judy, falling into bed and sleeping for at least a full day.

Luckily, he wasn't spoken to; he didn't feel able to hold any conversation right now. The train stopped once in a while. Some passengers exited; others entered. Eventually, the announcement system roared through the speakers, cutting through the buzz of conversations on the train. His ears perked up: the next stop would be his.

Keeping his mind focused so as to not miss the station, the tod waited and waited. How long did he wait? It felt agonising. After an eternity, he felt the train slowly come to a halt. Shortly after, Nick stepped out of the doors; most of the passengers had already made their way outside themselves. He was greeted with the chill of the evening air. For Judy it may have been cold, he considered, but his considerably thicker coat kept him rather insulated.

The thought of Judy reinvigorated him, and he paced the streets of savanna central. Left, right, left, left, right, forward, across—he didn't even need to think. Eventually, he was on the correct street, and seconds after, he stood before his apartment complex. Having greeted the nice warg receptionist, Nick climbed the stairs fuelled purely by the desire to fuse together with his couch and see Judy again.

Holding one paw to his forehead, the other turned the key in its lock, and he was finally greeted with the sight of his familiar apartment. Or maybe it wasn't quite that familiar—after all.

"Hey, Slick~," Judy greeted with palpable glee, breaking him out of his transfixion. "Are you finally home? It's…." She glanced toward the clock before resting her gaze on him again, smiling still. "…past 8 PM already!"

His ears perked towards her direction on the couch, the TV buzzing, his head following shortly afterwards. "Wha…," he stammered. Blinking several times, the tod tried again. "Judy. The room is clean." It was obvious, of course, but he barely had coherent thought left.

"Not only this room~," Judy chided. Then, after a short pause, examining him closer, her smile fell minutely, and she added, "That must have really been a rough day, huh?"

Slowly striding towards the couch, the slumping fox let himself fall backwards onto it, next to Judy, sending her up a couple of centimetres or so in the process. Then, spreading his arms wide, his left one rested on the couch's backside while the other caught Judy's shoulder and stayed there, falling over her side.

Feeling her fur against his, he realised his forwardness and pulled away a bit more sharply than he strictly needed to, placing it instead on his forehead. "Uhhhh… I'm tired, Judy," is all he said for some time, glancing towards her, his eyes half-lidded—her pink nose was twitching.

The doe spoke again with ears droopy. "Are you alright? Do you need a tabloid? What happened?"

The rapid-fire questions were too much, he replied in a weak voice, pausing after each sentence. "I'm fine, just tired. No. Paperwork."

"Paperwork?"

He groaned. "Yes, Carrots…. Paperwork. You remember? Those reports I did? Yeah, the chief didn't like 'em. Can't fault him for that." He snickered. "Said I have to redo them, do overtime. Just as I had expected." Drawing his paw through his headfur, he sighed again. "You cleaned up? Thank you."

"I'm glad you like it," she replied, smiling. "I had enough free time so why not go ahead and help out a fox in need?"

"I don't need alms, Carrots." It came out devoid of emotion.

"You know that is not what I meant," she answered, pouting.

"I know. I know. Sorry. I… uhh… just don't feel like myself. Sorry… I'd really like to lie down…. See you in the morning, Fluff."

With that, the tod stumbled toward his bedroom, almost falling over twice. It reminded her of a case of alcohol abuse they'd responded to recently. If she didn't know any better, she'd assume he really was drunk. He was clearly sober; he just looked like he hadn't been sleeping for multiple days.

Thinking back on it, the glimpses of his reports she saw could have used improvement, to say the least. Oh well.

Turning the TV off, she fetched her blanket and lost consciousness shortly after, sleeping in her casual wear.

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