Hello everyone, I bring you the next chapter in my story!

I hope you enjoy it. Please feel free to leave a review. I always appreciate feedback and I can answer any questions you may have.

I don't only any Disney characters.

I hope you enjoy!

All was blackness.

Nick heard many things, was aware of many things, though as if all from a great distance.

He felt and heard the vibrations of a loud machine carrying him to some unknown location, smelt the freshly tilled earth and diesel fuel. The rabbit was struggling to drag him somewhere. He heard arguing and shouting, her anguished voice demanding that he be taken care of, no matter his species. "We would do it for anyone else mother!" He felt the ministrations of someone called Dr. Wright, and could smell that he was being moved underground – the warm, slightly old air, oppressive.

He hadn't quite lost consciousness, but there seemed to be gaps in his perception. One moment he understood the world around him with perfect clarity, only for it to slip from his grasp the next.

After one gap, he returned to a world of deafening silence. After another, he heard the doctor scolding someone. "Do be sure you change these bandages on a regular basis, every few hours, I don't want to come back here next time and find them in this state."

Time seemed to no longer move in a straight, orderly line. It came and went as it pleased, and did its best to elude him. He could not be sure whether one thing happened before another or after the next. But then such considerations had no meaning in this expansive, inestimable world of blackness. And he had no concern for the loss of structure, or understandable rules.

Yet not all his perceptions failed him. The pain lingered. Even though he knew the sensations were dampened by the Doctor's concoctions, he still felt the aches across his body, the pain in his arm and ankle, felt as the doctor inserted the needle.

Nothing mattered. Nothing. He was nothing, no one. And he floated on the currents of time and space. Drifting… drifting… Reality slipped from his fingers, entirely beyond his grasp. He lost the thread of everything and the events around him lost all meaning. The voices, touches, feelings all melded into a single sensation that tickled at the edges of his being.

And then, slowly, things began to move again. It all came back to him, moment by moment, before the flood gates opened and everything came rushing back in a torrent. His mind tumbled, struggling to keep up with the sensations, thoughts, memories.

And then, there was only one thing at the forefront of his mind.

He was hot.

Really hot. So hot that he was baking.

But there was nothing he could do. It was as if his whole body was wrapped in a cocoon, and it was on fire.

He carefully tried to move each of his limbs. Needed to confirm that he hadn't in fact lost any. Yes they were there, though his right arm and leg hurt very badly. The arm especially, its every twitch sending bolts of pain up his shoulder.

He carefully listened to the room. Not wanting to let anyone know he was awake if he didn't have to. He was still much too weak to defend himself, and if he was right, his arm and leg were broken. So he wouldn't be going anywhere soon. Best to let whomever had him think he was out of it.

He paused in his search. Who had him exactly? He wracked his brain and realized that he had no idea. The last thing he remembered was driving to a warehouse hoping to find evidence that Sorrel was feeding information to the MSS through the most powerful mob boss in Zootopia, Feodor Koslov.

Sorrel, that damn tabby.

The memory came into focus. Nick had overplayed his hand, and as a result carefully laid plans were in jeopardy. The Zootopia Intelligence Agency had been infiltrated by the Arctica Ministry of State Security, and judging by the cable intercepts, it had been going on for years and the infiltrations ranged far beyond just the ZIA. The decrypted messages had allowed them to pinpoint a few of the mammals secretly working with Artica, Sorrel for instance, but Nick and his superiors had no doubt that the rot had gone much deeper. Nick's mistake could very well have made it obvious to the MSS that some of their older messages had been deciphered and all would be for naught. However, as far as Koslov knew, Nick was just another crafty fox looking to get ahead in a business in which they excelled. He didn't even know his real name. If he didn't put the pieces together then the whole operation should remain safe from that end. But Sorrel wasn't such a fool, and he had access to much more information. Jeffrey Sorrel was an administrator in the Polacra Section. The section responsible for the continent of the same name situated to the south. He was once a field agent and had proven himself to be a gifted section admin. He would be aware of Nick's sudden disappearance, and it wouldn't be too hard to connect the dots. The revelation of duplicity had been hard to swallow, and Nick had been assigned to prove the validity of the accusations. If he were to be honest with himself, dealing with Koslov probably hadn't been necessary. The intercepted diplomatic cables, for they originated from the Arctica embassy in Zootopia City, had repeatedly referenced an operative known by only the letter "C". Nick had intercepted two messages from Sorrel's office signed with only that letter. At least in the intelligence world, that was more than enough evidence to convict someone. But Nick had been hesitant to pull the trigger, not wanting to destroy the career of such an illustrious operative, and had decided that he would run a small operation to confirm what he already knew.

Nick had secretly fed Sorrel bad information which had forced the MSS to react. What Nick had been hoping to find in that warehouse was the product of that reaction. But all he had found was the mutilated body of one of his own informants. But he needn't have been there at all. The simple fact that Mr. Hamtaro had been sending him information that Koslov was receiving an emergency shipment from Arctica should have been proof enough. There had been no reason to get his hands dirty like that. But he had wanted to be absolutely sure. And now here he was, apparently recuperating in the hands of bunnies–

His eyes snapped open.

He remembered the rabbit that had pulled him from the river. He remembered her voice… The strange way it seemed to resonate with him… and he shook off the feeling that he was being manipulated.

He took in his surroundings. The room was dark, the only light a pale cylinder coming through the small round window on the opposite wall.. He wondered how long he had been out, it hadn't been night when he had met that rabbit, and he searched the room for a clock. 2:51 AM read the digital display next to his bed. Well he wasn't in a hospital and he was thankful for it. It looked like that little bunny had actually followed through on her promise. If he ever saw her again he would have to remember to thank her. He saw that his clothes, or what was left of them, were piled in one corner and he suddenly realized he was naked. An overwhelming sense of vulnerability swept over him. But his every effort to move set jets of pain up and down his body. He soon realized that he would have to be content his nakedness, he wasn't going anywhere soon anyway.

He had to give that rabbit credit though, she had seemingly done a pretty good job patching him up. He broken arm was set in a cast and so was his leg, and his shoulder, which he assumed had been dislocated at some point based on how tender it was, was properly relocated. Perhaps she was a doctor or something? The idea struck him as unusual, rabbits were usually farmers as far as he knew. But they certainly would need medical attention from time to time; actually, probably most of the time, so there must be rabbit doctors. That set this one apart then, she was probably the rare bright bulb among a sea of dullards. Just how bright would have to be determined.

Not too bright surely, she was still a bunny afterall. A memory slowly came into focus, he had heard her arguing with her mother about him. Why would a doctor live with her mother. Lots of reasons actually, now that he thought about it. But he would have to be careful, he had no doubt that his welcome in this place, wherever he was, was tenuous at best. Yes, there were too many unknowns to come up with any sort of concrete way forward, but to survive he needed something. Even a simple plan would help set his mind at ease.

He set his head back down upon the pillow, fully intending to set to work straight away, and closed his eyes.

The brightness of the room woke him and he blinked, bleary eyed, at his temporary home. It was the room empty aside from himself. He glanced at the clock: 4:07 PM. He had slept more than 12 hours, and by how exhausted he felt he suspected that he would be doing more of it. He gazed around the room again, trying to identify changes. His clothes were gone, which was fine because they were a mess, and he wasn't wrapped in a cocoon of blankets anymore, which was probably why he wasn't overheating anymore. The bandages wrapped around his body had been changed too. And he was clothed now, which left him feeling far less vulnerable.

He listened carefully to his surroundings, not wishing his conscious state to be discovered. Satisfied that he was alone, though he recognized that if any sort of clandestine device were present that his ruse had been long exposed, he took the opportunity to get a better look at the room around him.

It was a modest space, not unlike an alcove in the wall of a church. It was as if he was in one half of a dome that had been neatly bisected by a wall painted in a cool blue. The whole room was that color in fact, and the color gave the place a shadowy feeling despite the bright afternoon light pouring in from the small circular window set into the apex of the far wall. That was an escape route he noted, and it didn't look well secured against such an attempt. As for him, his bed was against the inner wall in one of the two corners. Actually, beds was more correct, for he lay upon at least three all pushed together to account for his length. That made him wonder. Who has so many beds just laying around? Maybe this was some sort of bunny hospital? Ah, no, wait, these were bunnies he was dealing with after all. He had no doubt that they needed plenty of beds.

It was then he heard someone approaching the door and he did he best to look as though he was asleep. The door opened and whomever it was paused in the entryway, apparently checking on him. Then they entered and carefully pulled the chair that had been sitting by the doorway next to him.

He felt the bed shift slightly as the interloper leaned against it. He remained still and prepared for the worst.

"I really need you to wake up and not be a terrible mammal."

It was her. The rabbit who had saved him. She sounded no different than when he had heard her on the river bank. Her voice was melodic, comforting. He willed her to speak again, his train of thought completely derailed.

"My parents are a half second away from killing me. And if you turn out to be a criminal…"

She sounded sad and weary, and for a moment Nick wanted to reach out and comfort her. But at the same time her words gave him pause. A criminal? What was she talking about? What would give her that impression? He pondered the question for a moment before coming to a grim realization.

He was a fox.

Bunnies don't like foxes.

He cursed inwardly. He shouldn't be so surprised by this. Prejudice between predator and prey was quite prevalent in the Zootopian society. It was so bad that an Artica propaganda minister had once commented that "Zootopia still collars predators" in response to criticisms of Arctica's mammal rights treatment. Things had gotten better since then, predators hadn't been collared since about 12 years before he was born, but they still had a long road to travel.

"Please get better."

The rabbit took his hand in hers and squeezed it.

He could almost feel her smiling at him, and it made him uncomfortable. He was supposed to be mad at her for her speciesism but the way she acted was just so disarming that he couldn't help but make excuses for her. She genuinely wished for him to get better, and that at the very least, endeared her to him. Nevertheless, his reaction was confusing. She was just a bunny. He had known a few over his lifetime, and they were unremarkable creatures. Too complacent for his taste. But this one seemed different. She wasn't the timid and flighty stereotype he had expected, no one who could be described that way would have pulled him from the river like she had, and she had even allowed a fox into her home. She was defying his expectations, and that made him curious.

A voice in his head shouted at him, "Stay detached Nick!" It brought him back. This rabbit, whomever she was, was a problem. She knew he was here, knew he was alive, and that simple fact made her a threat to him, no matter how good her intentions. But she was getting under his skin; had gotten underneath his skin. And so easily too. He didn't understand it, but knew instinctively that it was wrong. She was a threat, and would have to be managed. Anything more than that would simply make everything harder, and he couldn't tolerate that, not in his state.

Without warning the rabbit stood up and left the room, and Nick was left to ponder just what exactly what wrong with him.

7:38 AM. Nick had done a lot of sleeping again, though this time he actually felt well rested. He still really couldn't move, much too weak even after all that rest, but he decided that he was beginning to get better. The pain was less as least.

After the rabbit had left the previous day, he had spent some time reviewing in his mind all the evidence that had been gleaned from the decrypted diplomatic cables. Sorrel had not been the only operative named. Besides him there was a "K", an "N", a "G", a "W", and a "T". Six mammals in total, assuming each letter referred to just one, and if they were anything like Sorrel they would be well connected and in positions of responsibility. There was a good possibility that at least some of them weren't even in the ZIA. Only C, and N had definite indications that their work related at all to the ZIA. The others sounded as if they could be in other parts of the government. Nick would have probably been tasked with rooting them all out at some point but for now C and N were his priorities. Sorrel had been careless and had been identified within a few months but the search for N had turned up nothing so far.

For a moment Nick imagined what he would do when he got his hands on Sorrel and this mysterious N. He knew that the best course of action was to do nothing, but part of him wished that wasn't the case. He was not the vengeful type, well, not usually, but this sort of betrayal he took very personally. Yes it was best to leave them alone. The operation to decrypt the diplomatic cables, Project Zanona, was top secret, and if the informants suddenly stopped feeding information to the MSS it would be obvious that their system had somehow been compromised. That meant new encryption techniques, new code names, new drop spots, new everything. They would have to start from scratch, most of their previous work wasted. No that wouldn't do, it was best to simply allow the double agents to happily continue on their way, but minimize the damaging information they could have access to. Leaving them alone also opened up a number of interesting avenues for retaliation that would be a shame to squander.

A shout down the hall tore him from his reverie. Two mammals were arguing and it was getting closer. He still couldn't make out what they were saying but it was becoming clearer and clearer by the second.

"–you know why we can't keep him here, I shouldn't have to explain it!"

It was the voice of a male, older, deeper, probably the patriarch of this burrow.

"No Dad, I think you will have to explain it! He is an injured mammal! We have always taken care of our neighbors when they needed it!"

The rabbit and her father.

"He is an injured fox and he is not our neighbor!"

They were outside the door now, their shouting clear as day. Nick settled back into the bed, pretending once again to be asleep.

"So what?! Who cares if he's a fox!?"

The door slammed open and the two rabbits stormed into the room.

"Your parents care Judy! You have brought a dangerous predator into our home. What if he wakes up and eats half the kittens?"

Nick resented the accusation. He was dangerous, but certainly not to these bumpkins. It was unfair of them to assume he was some sort of deviant, but then again he wasn't that surprised. These were bunnies after all, how could he expect anything else? At that moment he decided he was tired of pretending to be asleep. He was hungry, had to use the bathroom, and he wouldn't tolerate some yokel insulting him, nor foxes in general, and he was gonna do something about it, something rash. They didn't notice him stir.

"Dad?! He's a fox, not a monster! Look at him, he's harmless!" And she gestured towards him, though neither looked.

"Because Ju–"

"I think mostly harmless would probably be more accurate." Nick interjected.

You could have heard a pin drop.

Both rabbits stared at him in shock, the argument entirely forgotten.

The seconds ticked by but no one moved. Nick realized he had to break the ice, and decided to lay it on thick.

"Would you like to hear a joke?"

The older rabbit twitched.

"It's a good one, I promise." Nick plowed on, "there was a farmer who at the end of the harvest took all his grain to the miller so he could turn it to flower. When the miller was done with his work, the farmer, feeling much abused, told the miller he felt 'that there was nothing so brave and valiant as the collar of the miller's shirt.' The miller, not understanding him, asked what he meant, to which to farmer replied, 'Because every morning it had a thief by the neck!'"

A profound silence followed, both rabbits staring at him incredulously.

Slowly, the older rabbit's face contorted into an expression of pure mirth. A broad grin spread across his face, and he let out a low chuckle which quickly grew into unrestrained laughter.

"Ah ha ho ho ho ha ha, now that was a good one! 'A thief by the neck!' By golly that's a clever one!"

The younger rabbit stared at her father in confusion. It was clear to Nick that she hadn't understood the joke.

"He he he he," her father continued to wheeze out, "Dontcha get it Judes? 'Thief by the neck!' I have to go tell your mother that one, she will love it!"

And with that he hurried from the room, laughing all the way.

The remaining rabbit, Judes, Nick supposed, stared at the doorway for a moment before turning towards him, eyes wide in confusion.

"You didn't get it?" He asked her, trying to suppress the pleased grin that had spread across his muzzle. This was going so well.

She didn't respond.

"Ok, well you see, millers were, and maybe still are, I don't know I'm no farmer, notorious for stealing some of the flower they were supposed to give back to the farmers after they processed their grain. So what the farmer is saying is that every morning when the miller buttons his collar, he is buttoning it around the neck of a thief! Get it?" He nodded at her, giving her his most encouraging smile.

She stared at him for a moment longer, incredulous, and then her features softened, understanding spreading across her face. She let out an embarrassed chuckle.

"That… that was a terrible joke, just awful." She replied, a reluctant smile playing on her lips.

"He he, I know. But it's the only farming joke I know!" He chuckled back at her, shrugging, which he immediately regretted. The action had tweaked his arm and he stifled a groan. He saw her make to dart forward towards him but she caught herself, and instead she stood there bashfully, gazing at her feet.

"The Doctor says you are lucky to be alive. All your wounds and then you had to fight off pneumonia. I was really scared for you, I didn't think you'd make it."

"Well," he was embarrassed by her concern, and he momentarily struggled to respond, "thank you." It was all that came out.

"No problem," she replied.

And awkward silence followed while the two of them searched for more to say.

"So what's my prognosis? I am sure my arm and leg it only the half of it."

"Oh, well, your leg should be fine apparently, though the Doctor says you will have that cast on for quite a while and–"

"Whats 'quite a while' exactly?" He interrupted.

"Uh, maybe two months? If the healing goes well."

Two months? A mix of apathy and frustration swept through him. On one hand being down and out for two months would be nice – he hadn't had time to relax in a long time – but that break would also set back his work accordingly, and that was a problem. Still, there was more to consider,

"And your family is going to let me stay here for two months?"

She suddenly looked nervous, "well, uhm, I don't think we have thought that far ahead yet. And it's not like you will be stuck in bed for two months! You can leave whenever you are ready, of course."

"What if I want to stay here until I am all better?"

She gazed at him wide eyed, and it was clear to Nick that she had never even considered the possibility. Nor had he, if he were being honest, but he was testing the waters. He wanted to knew exactly where he stood.

"I mean, as I said, I don't know if my parents would allow that. I could ask them… I guess." She finished reluctantly. Obviously not relishing the opportunity to ask that question.

"Well, don't worry about it, we can cross that bridge when we get to it." He threw her a reassuring smile. "There is no need tread on any paws just yet if I don't have to. Though it seems like I am treading only plenty already," he said, giving her a knowing look.

The rabbit let out an embarrassed chuckle and her eyes flitted to the floor.

"I'm sorry you had to see that. My parents really aren't happy that you are here. Foxes and rabbits and all that…" she trailed off, reluctant to finish the thought. "Though my father seems to be warming up to you." She said wryly, glancing at the door, clearly surprised at how quickly her father had been diverted.

It was at least clear that one bunny around here cared for his wellbeing. He would have to remember that. He had an advocate, and it would be poor form to alienate her.

Nick quickly changed the subject.

"So your name is Judes? That's an interesting name. Sorta like that song," he offered.

She gave him a startled look and began a reply but hesitated.

Bunnies, he thought as he watched her.

"Not Judes, eh? Should I call you 'rabbit' then? Maybe 'bunny'? You do have a name right?" He had to stop himself from making too much game out of her. He had been about to ask if her parents had even remembered to give her one, but he knew the moment the jab entered his mind that he would regret it.

Even so, her expression changed to one of annoyance but she still declined to answer him. Instead she stood there biting her lip, nose twitching furiously. He hadn't crossed a line yet.

"Oh my God, rabbit, spit it out. You look adorable standing there all troubled, but I think it's customary in a conversion for there to be a back and forth between two or more individuals."

Again her face momentarily twisted in irritation, but his prodding apparently had the desired impact. She seemed to steel herself for a moment, before she looked away from him in obvious embarrassment and squeaked out,

"Y– you're not– you're not a criminal are you?" she visibly cringed even as she asked the question.

Ah, there it was.

Nick could feel the fur on the back of his neck bristle. He remembered what she had said to him yesterday when she thought he was unconscious. And he found himself annoyed at her for making such an assumption simply because he was a fox. He had to give her credit though, when she was arguing with her father she had clearly been defending him from those sorts of insinuations. He sighed inwardly. Perhaps he should give her the benefit of the doubt, just for a moment. She was seemingly an ally here, and beggars couldn't be choosers. There would be plenty of time to resent her afterwards if she really was cut from the same cloth as her father.

"Now, before I answer that, what exactly makes you think I am a criminal?"

She seemed startled by the question and she stumbled over her response,

"Oh! Well– I– uh... I looked in your pockets, and I found this." She withdrew one of his pistol magazines from her pocket.

He blinked at it, confused as to why having that would make him a criminal. He cocked his eyebrow as his gaze returned to her. She answered his question before he could even ask,

"It's illegal to have something like this."

Ah. Firearms were tightly controlled in Zootopia, pistols basically banned altogether, so for him to have one without any sort of means to prove he was allowed… well thinking him a criminal was not an unreasonable conclusion he admitted to himself. He also had to admit he was surprised. She had had a legitimate reason to suspect something, and hadn't just assumed he was a monster because he was a fox. He appreciated that. Appreciated it a lot in fact. It was rare to find mammals, even in the city, who would give him the benefit of the doubt like that. And to find one in a place like Bunnyburrow?

He gave her a disarming smile and let out a soft chuckle.

"Heh, no, I am not a criminal, I am just a fox that was in the wrong place at the wrong time. I am also allowed to carry that believe it or not." He said, pointing at the magazine. "Can I please have that back actually? Because you're right, it is illegal for you to have that."

Her eyes went wide and she looked from him to the magazine in her hand, somehow just then realizing that she was breaking the law. She gazed at it for a moment before letting out a determined sigh and look back up at him.

"How do I know you are telling me the truth?"

He narrowed his eyes at her in annoyance, frustrated at the position she was putting him in. She seemed to retreat from him then, though she hadn't moved. She held the magazine in her paws tight to her chest and stared fearfully into his eyes. It was like she expected him to attack at any moment he realized. He could smell it in the air. Smell her fear. She was about to bolt. She eyed him with immense apprehension, nose twitching furiously.

He was taken aback by it. Here he was, half dead, barely able to move for the pain, and this rabbit was acting as if he was about to rampage through the burrow.

Rabbits.

The whole scene confused him. What was he going to do to her? To any of them? Eat them? There were far too many to eat in one sitting, and besides, he didn't eat mammals. He felt his position slipping away from him, becoming more and more precarious by the moment.

He had to diffuse situation. He needed her to be his advocate, and it was important for one's advocates to not be afraid of you. Vital even.

"Look," he assuaged, "I don't have a good way of proving it to you, as I am sure you noticed, I don't have any ID on me or anything like that." He sighed for effect and wondered how to approach this. He was about to lie through his teeth of course, but that didn't bother him. He had spent so much of his life lying that it came as second nature now, but this was a particularly delicate situation and this was a particularly important lie. "I work for the ZPD as a special investigator." It wasn't a good lie, and under close scrutiny it would quickly fall apart, but he ran with it. "I am working undercover, or, well, I was. Until I ended up here."

He couldn't read her at that moment, and he had the terrible feeling that she didn't believe him. He doubled down on the lie, really more of a half truth at this point, switching his story wouldn't save him.

"The mammals I am investigating… well, I screwed up and they figured me out. It was a stupid mistake on my part, and I think you will forgive me if I don't elucidate," he looked away, playing up his apparent embarrassment, " But, anyway, I messed up, they worked me over, and threw me in the river. Probably expecting me to drown."

He glanced back at her and knew then and there that he had hit a homerun. It was as if she was a different rabbit. Gone was all the fear and worry, replaced by what he could only describe as awe. Her mouth hung slightly open as she watched him intently and she seemed to lean forward expectantly, willing him to continue.

Damn he was good. He had her now, just as he had had her down by the river. He obliged her desire.

"So, they must think I am dead now, but I am not, entirely thanks to you," he ran his good hand through the fur on his head, "That puts me in a perfect position. No one knows I am alive, except for you good folks here of course. People don't find what they aren't looking for."

"Was it the Tundra Town Mob? The mammals you were investigating?"

He looked at her, stunned. How the hell did she know who Koslov was? She was just some country bumpkin. The Burrow was a place crime rarely touched. How did she know? A terrible possibility tore its way back into his mind. These bunnies were somehow associated with Koslov's crew. A place like this would be perfect for hiding a drug factory of some sort, and no one ever suspected the rabbits of any sort of criminality. He was going to die now, in this god forsaken hole in the ground surrounded by these grey monsters.

"Are you investigating Koslov?" The rabbit seemed to quiver as she asked the question.

Yup, this was it, he was going to die.

"I– uh– well…"

"Oh my gosh! Say no more! I know you can't talk about it. Oh my gosh!" She vigorously tugged on her ears in her excitement, "That is so cool! I didn't even know there were any foxes in the ZPD! Are you the first? What's it like being a cop? Oh my gosh I am so glad you are ok," she was going a mile a minute now, almost stumbling over herself in her eagerness to ask him questions, and she leaned over the edge of the bed towards him, her fear long gone. How long had he been a cop? What precinct? What was a 'special investigator'? All questions asked in quick succession. She didn't even give him a moment to answer them.

Even if had had known the answers to any of these questions he wouldn't have been able to bring himself to answer them. He couldn't believe her attitude change. His lie had been bad, very bad even, and totally full of holes. Why would it matter to an investigation whether or not they knew he was alive, and why wouldn't it be important for the police to know about him being alive? These questions went unasked and therefore unanswered. Nick was just happy he had somehow hit the jackpot. He had his foot in the door, much more easily than he would ever had imagined, and as long as he didn't screw it up, the rabbits might just tolerate him until he could walk.

His attention finally turned outward again and he realized she hadn't stopped her rapid fire questioning. He slowly raised paw to silence her.

"You're very cute but you gotta slow down rabbit. How can I answer your questions if you don't even take the time to breath in between them?" He gave her a sly grin, and almost winked, until her saw her expression had quickly changed. An hesitant look of disapproval hung on her face.

"Uhm, can you not call me cute?"

He blinked. "Uh– yeah, sure," he replied, momentarily put off balance by the non-sequitur.

"Yeah, I know it sounds strange but it's really not ok when other mammals call bunnies cute. It's just– we are a lot more than the way we look, and I personally don't like being defined by that."

"Oh, ok, yeah I am sorry, I didn't know." He wondered why he was being so apologetic. Must have been the painkillers.

"Yeah it's no problem, it's just part of the reason why a lot of mammals don't take bunnies very seriously. I know I can speak for more than just myself when I say that I don't like that. So, if you could just– not." She smiled at him apologetically, as if she felt she was making a big deal out of nothing.

It wasn't nothing though, Nick knew that very well. That was very close to how he felt about rabbits. Cute, but not worth a second glance. But he recognized that foxes were subject to a number of derogatory stereotypes themselves, and if she didn't want to be called cute he would make an effort not to, for now at least.

"I totally understand, us foxes have similar problems, as I think you know. Some mammals even think that we are predisposed to Criminality" He gave her a teasing smile.

Her ears turned a deep red and she looked away. He had to stop himself from needling her further.

"Ah heh, yeah. Sorry about that," she said.

"Don't worry about it rabbit."

"Oh, also, don't call me 'rabbit', my name is Judy Hopps."

"But," He said, sucking his teeth, "you are a rabbit aren't you?"

"I, uh, well yeah but–"

"Then I don't see what the problem is rabbit. Be proud of what you are!"

She let out an exasperated laugh and groped for a response.

"But– now you're just–"

"Now you wanted to know about what I do?" He said, laughing at her agitation.

She stopped and looked at him, searching his face, wary that this was another part of his game.

"Yes." She said tentatively.

"Ok, well ask away, but you have to give me a chance to answer them this time."

She furrowed her brow at him, clearly thinking "foxes!" Nick smiled inwardly at her expression. He liked her, she was a good sport.

"Ok, what precinct are you in?"

He had no idea how the precinct system in Zootopia worked of course, and he knew of only one, Precinct 1. It happened to be the precinct that the ZIA office was located in.

"I work in Precinct 1 when I am not out and about."

She gasped. "No way! That's the center of the city! Only the best officers get assigned to that precinct, how did you do it?"

"What, you don't think I am a good officer?"

"No no no!" she said placatingly, "I meant what did you do to get there? It's not easy."

Nick scolded himself, he kept inadvertently making his story harder and harder to keep straight.

"Well," he said, stalling for time, "I didn't start there, I was originally in Precinct 7." Again Nick inwardly kicked himself. Was there even a Precinct 7? Maybe, maybe not, but gambling like this was, frankly, stupid. She apparently knew a lot about the ZPD, and it wouldn't be long before it became obvious that he didn't.

"Oh! That's the center of Tundra Town! That makes total sense. Did they move you over for the investigation? I bet you dealt with the Mob a lot huh?"

Nick blinked. She had literally handed him an alibi. He couldn't believe it.

I'd best be careful, between this and the warehouse I have just about used up a lifetime of luck.

"Yes actually, that's basically what happened. I don't know if I will stay in number 1 at the end of this but I hope so! I like the city center way better than Tundra Town. Too cold, too crookid."

She chuckled, this time totally unrestrained, and Nick was again struck by the quality of her voice. It was strange, to be affected by a voice like that. But something in hers just seemed to resonate in him. He was a guarded individual even on the best of days. His childhood, and now his profession, demanded it. He had spent his life building walls, but something about this rabbit seemed to weaken those defenses. She wasn't tearing them down, oh no, it would take a herculean effort to pull off something like that, but he just felt… comfortable in her presence. It wasn't just her voice, it was everything about her. She was just so genuine, so conscientious. He could almost feel her interest and concern radiating off of her. As they sat in that little guest room chatting, Nick found himself content in a way he could not say he had been in some time. And he was profoundly unhappy when it ended.

They both heard the call, a female, probably her mother, was calling for Judy to attend to breakfast.

She looked at the door.

"I'm sorry, I gotta go… Oh! You're probably starving!" She looked him over, concern spread across her features. "I don't know that we have anything you could eat though, we aren't predators you know…" She trailed off.

"Foxes are omnivores, I mean, run it by me before you try to force it down my throat, but even if you forget that step I will probably be fine."

She lit up, relieved. "Oh good. I'll get you something after I am done dealing with everyone else."

She was halfway through the door when he said,

"Thanks, Judy."

She turned back towards him in surprise but her visage quickly softened to something he could only describe as affection. But he was sure that wasn't it, there was no way it could be.

"Yeah, no problem," she gave him a heartfelt smile, "I'll be back in a bit with some food."

And with that she left.

It was about an hour later when a knock on the door again pulled him from his self reflection. It opened without a response and Nick was surprised to see that Judy's father was standing in the doorway. He cautiously entered the room, glancing from side to side. Seemingly pleased that they were alone he closed the door and affixed Nick with with a stare that made his fur stand on end. His instincts warning him of approaching danger.

Without a word he approached the bedside and Nick found himself shrinking away from the rabbit. But he couldn't go far, his body still much too weak. All he could do was stare back in rapidly increasing alarm, once again contemplating his own mortality.

The rabbit leaned towards him, his face set in determination, his dark eyes flashing.

He asked gravely, "Mr. Fox I have a question for you," he glanced over his shoulder back at the door, "do you know any more jokes?"

Hope you enjoyed this chapter, the next will be out in two weeks!

Bits of this chapter were inspired by my favorite author Patrick O'Brian, specifically that incredible joke. If you haven't read his works I highly recommend them.

You may be wondering why I declined to start the whole 'Carrots' thing. I promise that will come, but at the moment I think Nick is in a fundamentally different place than he was in the movie when he made up that name. He doesn't want to get himself kicked out, and pissing off his host is a good way to do that I think. So the condescending attitude that created the name just doesn't make sense at the moment.