Chapter Two "Bunny Butt"

How was I even supposed to approach this?

Hey, Judy. It's me, Nick.

So, I totally have the hots for you. I know you were touchy around foxes just a few months ago, but do you want to catch dinner some time? Oh, and let's completely disregard your parents who would probably go into cardiac arrest if they ever discovered you were dating a city fox. It's cooooool.

Not to mention I'm like ten years older than her, though you wouldn't know it by looking. Then there was the problem with being co-workers and how Bogo would handle it.

The more I talked to myself about how to handle this, the more impossible it was sounding. I mean, I'm smooth. But it felt like everything was stacked against me from the start. Why, oh why, did I have to fall for the bunny with bigot parents?

The answer continued to elude me, even as we pulled into the station.

Judy had passed out in the chair next to mine, iPaw playing Gazelle in her ears. I spent most of the ride fiddling with my phone, uselessly hoping something on the internet could give some ideas. But, truthfully, I was just looking for a distraction. When the train lurched to a stop, Judy scrambled awake like her alarm clock had gone off. I bit back a snicker. Judy would hit me if I said it out loud, but she was absolutely adorable when flustered.

"Relax, Carrots," I said for her as much as myself. "We're here earlier than expected."

I silently cursed bunny efficiency for the train reaching the burrows fifteen minutes ahead of schedule. If even the trains were premature in the sticks, I wasn't looking forward to seeing what else the weekend had in store for me.

I expected the burrows to be endless corn fields as far as the eyes could see. I was pleasantly surprised to see mountains a ways off in the distance. The trees that dotted the landscape were a beautiful golden hue, with leaves just starting to fall. But I knew I had entered bunny territory just by the architecture of the train station. Everything. Had. Bunny ears. Where a sensible mammal would construct a point at the tips of the fences and roofs, the rabbits had molded two loops. It felt like a thousand hares were looking down at me, judging the fox that had entered their sacred homeland.

The architecture was overshadowed by the crowd forming outside the train.

Rabbits and mammals alike trailed out of the vehicle and scrambled in different directions of the station, making it feel like I was still in the packed streets of Zootopia. I could lose myself in a place like this. If that weren't enough, the sign plastered proudly at the train station revealed just how outnumbered I was.

"Eighty two million, three hundred thousand, seven hundred and fifty one," I said, reading the number as it steadily increased with each passing second. "Population of Bunnyburrow?"

The logistics alone were staggering. It was like someone had done the sign as a gag and not really considered just how problematic such a dense population of rabbits was. I turned to Judy with wide eyes.

"Please tell me that's just a joke."

She just laughed and changed the subject.

"Come on. We should get to the farm and help out."

"Help out?"

"See all these folk?" Judy gestured to the crowd of animals around us, though I had to follow her by her ears sticking out of the mob like two shark fins. "This happens every year during the festival. Country-born rabbits come to visit their families for the seasonal festivals and city folk want to look at the trees and get a taste of the country life during the long weekend."

I pushed my way past a pair of sheep just standing in the way and blocking the flow of traffic. Talk about hitting the ground running.

"So, what you're saying is, I'm one of these stupid city folk who you can take advantage of?"

"I never said that!" Judy had on a big grin on her face. "Though I have to admit it's more crowded than it usually is this year."

"Sounds like a problem."

"Actually, it's very good for business. Mom and dad will probably make a killing this year. The fall harvest is the biggest spike in sales and let's us prep for winter. All eighty million of us."

I couldn't tell if she was joking or not.

The crowds dispersed as we left the station. Judy guided us along a dirt road, towards the northern fields. Every direction looked the same to me and I was suddenly grateful to have her as a guide. Once you saw one carrot farm, you saw them all. And they continued for miles and miles around us.

It was so quiet in the country that I could actually hear myself think. With the murmur of the crowds left behind us, there was only the music of tractors in the distance and the occasional flock of birds flying south. There was nothing to distract me from my thoughts as Judy led the way. It took an immense of self control to not leer at her bouncing, fluffy tail.

Life returned to the farmlands as we approached another crowd of animals down the road.

At a glance, it looked like they were assembled in front of a food stand off the side of the dirt street. Most weren't rabbits and I would recognize a Zootopian accent anywhere. Judy was right. Her family's farm was an absolute tourist hot spot.

A familiar voice attempted to silence the herd. "Can I please get a single file line? Thank you!"

I first thought it was Judy speaking until I spotted a female rabbit at the counter of the stall. She was a far cry from Judy's duplicate, with a softer figure compared to what the rigid police workout routine provided. I would know, given I started to develop abs since joining the academy. The rabbit had darker fur around her nose and ears compared to Judy's light grey hair. But I knew they were sisters by the eyes. She shared the same hopeful lavender gaze that I had fallen for. Must be a family trait.

Judy chuckled as she guided me to the front of the line, earning us some dirt looks from the mammals who had been waiting there for awhile. Her sister took notice of me before Judy.

"Sir," despite the country accent, there was something warm and polite about her voice. "I'm sorry, but I'd have to ask you wait in line. It'd be rude to the other customers."

"Oh, come on, Jenny," Judy finally caught her sister's gaze. "I'm sure you can make an exception for family."

Jenny's businesswoman smile turned to a coy grin. "Oh, good. Reinforcements have arrived. How are you doing, Jude? Actually, tell me while we work. I could use some help back here."

"On it."

The sisters didn't waste more words and Judy skidded over the top of the counter to join Jenny in the back. I followed suit. The stall was bunny-sized and allowed me to step over the table with relative ease. Though I did manage to bump my head on the sign nailed above.

"Careful there," said Jenny before shooting Judy a sly look. "Gone for almost a half a year and then you come back home with a fox? Mom's going to flip."

The blush I caught on Judy's ears untangled some of the worms wriggling in my belly, even if what followed was a firm denial.

"It's not like that! He's just my partner."

"Ah?"

"My police partner!"

"Uh huh..."

I was already starting to like Jenny. Especially if we shared in the similar hobby of driving Judy nuts.

"Well, go manage the register, Jude, and I'll get your fox situated back here."

I sensed Judy wanted to put up more of a fight, but to make a bigger fuss than she already had would only give Jenny more ammunition. As Judy stomped to the front of the stall, her pudgy sister held out a paw to shake.

"Jennifer Hopps. Judy's older sister."

"Nick Wilde," I replied, offering two fingers to accommodate the smaller mammal. "I can see your sister has said nothing about me."

"On the contrary, Mr. Wilde. I was just being coy with her. Judy talks about you all the time and we Hopps all know who you are. Hard not to, given the whole town practically idolizes Judy."

As if on cue, Judy called from the front of the stall. "Jen...Would you care to explain why my face is on a cookie?"

Against my better judgment, I snorted a laugh.

Judy was holding up a golden, home baked carrot cookie. The treat was made in the shape of a rabbit head, with room for both ears and a small police hat between them. The icing had painted the face of a smiling rabbit, obviously meant to be Judy. It was the real Judy's drooped ears and bitter glare contrasting the cookie that made me chuckle.

Next to me, Jenny held her composure better. "Do you like them? It was Gideon's idea. That's not all though."

Our eyes trailed to the rest of the counter and we could see just what was being peddled at the food stall. Besides the typical fall goods—apples, pumpkins, and loads of carrots—a majority of the display was baked treats. I saw some traditional stuff, like pies and apple doughnuts. But the real sellers were the desserts under the sign 'Officer Hopps Sweets,' if the empty tins were any clue. There were even some plastic police stars scattered around the table for aspiring kits. I was honestly surprised there weren't any cap guns either, to fit the police theme.

Judy summed up her outrage in one word. "Why?"

"Well, you don't go starting some waves in the city without feeling the ripples out here in the sticks, Jude. What did you think was going to happen when you suddenly made it big in Zootopia? You're the biggest news for hundreds of miles. Just be glad you didn't get to see the bunny butt cake. That was a best seller."

"Bunny butt…," The meaning of the words suddenly processed for Judy. I watched the blush spread from her ears to her face, like the fuse of a dynamite.

A slight concern nudged at my thoughts and I leaned in to whisper into Jenny's ear. "This Gideon fellow didn't come up with that one too, did he?"

"That one was his sister, actually. Don't worry. She's her own brand of odd."

It relieved me that I didn't also have competition for Judy's affection to deal with. Though, judging by Judy's face, she had some choice words for the baker of said cake. I didn't want to be in their shoes.

"I…," Judy tried to speak. "You...That…"

"Customers," Jenny warned Judy of the growing impatience in line before the stall. "Come on, Mr. Wilde. I'll show you how to spot the good fruits and veggies from the bad."

Jenny's southern hospitality ended up making me relax abit.

Despite the oppressive amount of patrons supplying a never-ending stream of work to keep the three of us busy, I was enjoying myself. I was no stranger to working with my paws and packing up groceries for folks reminded me of the old days when I was just starting out in the city, hurting for extra cash. Judy eventually cooled her head and accepted the fact that her face was a bestseller, though she promised she would speak thoroughly with her parents about such a breach in her privacy.

Conversation picked up along with the work.

I let the two sisters chat on their own for a while, nodding along and speaking only when spoken to. It was actually somewhat odd to hear siblings chit chat with each other and not be arguing. In the city, I'm sad to say, most families have a hard time staying together, let alone seeing eye to eye. I was lucky, born as an only child. But even then I never knew my dad. It was just what was normal for me. Even Finnick was estranged from his folks, being the runt of his litter.

As I listened to Judy, I learned more about her.

I knew she had a big family, but I couldn't say how large until that day. The Hopps had just shy of three hundred kits, some with children of their own. About a hundred of her siblings still lived with her parents, on the main Hopps compound, while the rest were spread out all across Bunnyburrow. Most, like Jenny, found employment working for their father in the fields, while the more ambitious ventured into the town square as shopkeepers and vendors. It turned out Jennifer was the oldest sibling still living in the main compound, having not married yet.

"One hundred kits in one burrow," I muttered aloud. "Please tell me you don't all have names that start with J, too."

Both rabbits chuckled. I obviously missed some sort of joke.

"Nick," Judy explained to me sweetly. "Rabbits with big families name their litters alphabetically. It saves a massive headache down the line when you forget who's supposed to go where."

I tried doing the math in my head. "So, that makes you…"

"The tenth litter in the Hopps lineage," Jenny finished my thought. "I'm their ninety eighth child. Judy is ninety nine."

"Yeah, by two minutes."

"So," I continued, still trying wrap my head around having hundreds of brothers and sister. "Does that mean you have other siblings your age? All with names starting with J?"

"Actually, Nick, I'm from the smallest generation. I only have two sisters and one brother with a J name."

"The J's are the oddballs in the Hopps family," Jenny said with pride. "We almost singlehandedly made our parents question if they wanted to push past having a hundred kits."

I gave Judy a sly smirk. "That explains a lot."

"Har, har...You won't get to meet them, anyway. John is living with his husband in one of the other tri-burrows, where he runs a nightclub. And Jacky never came home since she went to college in Clawnanda, though we suspect she's a professional ice hockey player now."

"Jeez, with siblings like that, you almost sound normal, Carrots."

The small talk continued to do wonders in easing my nerves. It was past noon, and neither of us had eaten anything all day, but the lunch rush continued strong until two.

I wasn't about to complain though. The demand from visiting mammals meant I got to work closer to Judy. She'd occasionally brush up against me, sending shivers down my spine and causing my tail to spike up. Corny? Absolutely. But shut up, I took what I could get at that point.

I think we impressed Jenny by how well Judy and I worked together.

Like in our police work, Judy took the reins, giving me clear commands of what we needed and how fast it needed to be done. She had her speed, but I had my charms. There were more than a few unpleasant mammals at the stand who couldn't deal with more than a two minute wait. Whenever I sensed Judy getting frustrated by their behavior, I'd casually step in for her so she could cool her head. Smooth talking a bunch of yokels into buying something they didn't want is small time for a former hustler. It was a dance I had done many times before. Different stage, same moves.

It was two thirty when the crowd died. Despite the cool autumn breeze in the air, I was starting to pant a little. Standing around in the sun is sure way to overheat when you're wearing a thick layer of fur.

"You alright, Mr. Wilde?"

I quickly stuck my tongue in my mouth before I could make a scene. Panting was one of those things that was embarrassing to be caught doing, especially around other mammals.

"Yeah, just...Thirsty. I haven't had anything to eat or drink since we got up."

"Well, that's no good. And here we're half through the day," Jenny turned to Judy and tossed the keys from her pocket. "Why don't you pull the truck around, Jude? You two can head to the burrow and settle in. I can hold the fort from here."

"Roger."

Jenny grabbed me one of the waters from the cooler. A small reward for suffering through the lunch rush. But a gratifying one.

There was another, unintentional, reward when I glanced over to Judy bouncing to the truck on the other side of the dirt road. There was something mesmerizing in the way her hips swayed to and fro while she hopped. My eyes followed her cotton tail for longer than I would have normally intended, venturing into the range of lustful gazing. To my abject horror, my stares did not go unnoticed.

"Mr. Wilde, are you looking at my sister's butt?"

That's one of those questions when you hear it directed to you, your brain comes to a screeching halt. Suddenly, there is no right answer because denial would make you look that much more like a letcher. If you had a scan of my brain waves at that moment, you'd see a flatline.

"I...No...I…"

As I looked at Jenny, I was jealous. She had a better smug face than I did. The bunny girl was smirking at me and my wandering eyes. I had been caught with my paws in the cookie jar and she knew it.

To my surprise, Jenny started to giggle. "Oh, that's adorable. You two are perfect for each other."

"No," I said, my brain having come back from it's five o'clock coffee break. "You're mistaken. I was...Admiring the truck. That's an old model, isn't it? A 1962 Furd?"

"Oh, don't you try to deny it, Mr. Wilde. I can smell you. You predators always emit such a fragrant musk when you spot a female you're attracted to. So territorial."

My brain was still juggling five things at once, but there was enough critical thought to recognize something was off about Jenny's familiarity with fox anatomy.

"Hang on a minute. How can you even smell me?"

"Oh, please. After you date a few canines, you learn to recognize their odors."

Suddenly, the pleasant country bumpkin bunny didn't look so sweet and innocent.

"Huh...And here I thought you seemed so…"

"Normal?" There was a bit of Judy in her grin. "I thought we told you, we J's are the oddballs of the family. You're not the first predator we've brought home."

Though I could still feel the tips of my ears burning, Jenny's words did a lot to ease my concerns. We watched Judy fumble with the keys in the distance, struggling to get the truck running and completely unaware of our conversation. Did that mean I wasn't the first fox a Hopp had brought home? I certainly wasn't the first with sharp teeth, if what Jenny said was true. Maybe, just maybe, Judy's parents would have a more open mind about me.

"I deny everything," I said, still refusing to admit my crush out loud. "But in terms of getting on your family's good side, your parents…"

"Tough noots to crack."

"Noots?"

"Ask dad about that later when he's more comfortable around you. If he gets more comfortable around you."

Jenny's joyful demeanor faltered for a moment. There was a knowing look of sadness in her eyes as Judy successfully managed to get the engine running.

"I'm not going to lie, Mr. Wilde. Our parents are old rabbits. They're not as far gone as Pop-Pop. But they have plenty of bias. They don't care for my current boyfriend, who's a raccoon. You're going to have to do something very impressive to win them over."

"Fun. Any tips?"

"Be honest with them, they can pick up lies real quick. Humor dad and his dumb stories. And look mom in the eye when she's talking with you."

Judy pulled up to the stall and honked, snapping us to attention.

"Good luck," said Jenny as I grabbed our bags. "You're going to need it."

"Thanks…"

I walked away from the stall, both our bags in my paw. Judy grinned at me, reminding me of the conversation I had with myself on the train just a few hours ago.

How do I approach my feelings with Judy? Well, let's start by getting on her family's good side...