Nick and Finnick were running as fast as they could, their booted feet pounding against the pavement as they weaved in between wagons, lorries and other mammals, some watching in mild shock and indignation as the two foxes barreled towards the pier, the vulpine duo running over a stretch of train tracks, a single passenger train, a direct from Waterloo Station, stopped by the terminal warehouse, which as Nick observed as he shouted back at Finnick, appeared dwarfed by the rapidly rising wall of Titanic's hull.
"WE'RE RIDING HIGH STYLE NOW, FINNY!" Nick bellowed as they reached the edge of the large crowd of mammals looking up at the towering bulk of steel.
"WE'RE PRACICALKLY GODAMN ROYALTY, WALADAY!"
And just behind him, Nick could tell from Finnick's boisterous laugh that he was just as excited.
"YOU SEE! IT'S BY THE GRACE OF ALLAH THAT I FACE MY DESTINTY…TO GO TO AMERICA TO BE A MILLIONAIRE!
Before long, the two foxes reached the pier, still carrying everything they owned in the world in the kit bags, the weight on their shoulders almost nonexistent as their exuberance seemed to relieve them of the burden as the sprinted in and out of the forest of bystanders, tearing through the milling crowds next to the terminal, both foxes paying no mind to the multiple shouts and hollers going up behind them as they jostled slow-moving ladies and gentle-mammals.
And once they broke the initial threshold, Nick and Finnick dodging piles of luggage as they weaved through more groups of people, burst out onto the pier, only for Nick to come to a dead stop, his wide eyes staring at the cast wall of the ship's hull, towering seven stories above the wharf and over an eighth of a mile long.
It was at that moment the red fox realized that Titanic held true to her name.
Finnick, who realized that his friend was no longer following, rolled his eyes as he ran back, grabbing Nick by the lapels of his jacket as they resumed their sprint toward the ship, nearly pumping into a pair of horse deckhands pulling an empty wagon behind them.
"WATCH IT!" one of them whinnied, both equines sending the foxes a disgusted sneer, which the two smaller lads paid no mind to, as they were more focused on the third-class gangway aft at E-deck. And just as they reached the bottom of the ramp, Nick began to frantically wave his arms and raise his voice as a young officer, a rather handsome stag of about 24 years, detached the ganway from the ship, the walkway starting to swing down from the gangway doors.
"WAIT!" Nick called as he and Finnick barreled toward the end of the gangway, which had briefly stopped the moment the two foxes ran on it.
"WE'RE PASSENGERS!"
Flushed and panting, Nick practically waves the tickets in the astonished Sixth Officer James Moody's face. And after taking a moment to regain his composure, the stag looked at the two tickets outstretched to him, before casting a cautious eye back at the two foxes.
"Have you been through the inspection queue?"
Of course, Nick and Finnick, in their rush, had bypassed the health inspection, seeing as how there wasn't much time for them to.
But Nick wasn't about to let Moody know this.
"Of course!" he lied cheerfully, Finnick sharing his forced smile as they began to fidget impatiently.
"Anyway, we don't have lice, we're Americans. Both of us."
Now, Moody knew they were lying, but at this point he was more concerned about getting the gangway door shut.
"Right, come aboard," he said testily, not even finishing his sentence as the two foxes jumped over the small gap between the gangway and the ship. And once the two were on board, Moody took their tickets, handing them to a portly pig in a seamen's uniform, one Quartermaster Rowe, who looks at the names on the tickets to enter them in the passenger list.
"Bjorgman," he read in a bored English tenor, glancing at Nick's ticket before looking at Finnick's.
"And...Bjorgman?"
And as he hands the tickets back, Rowe suspiciously eyes a nervous Finnick's middle-eastern looks. Luckily, Nick grabs Finnick by the arm, quickly leading him away.
"Come on, Sven."
And much to Rowe's further suspicion, the two foxes didn't even get out of ear shot before they started whooping with victory as they ran down the white-painted corridor... grinning from ear to ear. They were so excited that they didn't even care that they nearly ran into the Otterton's, both Emmet and June looking at the duo in shock and confusion, all while Billy and Joey just seemed to laugh along with the two foxes.
"We are the luckiest sons of bitches in the world!"
Of course, June had to cover the boys' ears at that.
"WOOOOOOOOO!"
The mooring lines, as big around as a tiger's arm, are dropped into the water as the final blast of Titanic's whistles echo throughout Southampton, a cheer going up on the pier as seven tugboats pull the Titanic away from the quay. And on the aft well deck, Nick and Finnick burst through a door, the foxes running across the deck and up the steel stairs to the poop deck. They only just got to the rail beneath the aft docking bridge before Nick started to yell and wave to the crowd on the dock, his flailing arm almost hitting Vixey in the head, thought the vixen could care less as she hugged her strapping husband tightly. And it went without saying that Finnick was beyond confused by his friends exuberant hollering.
"You know somebody?"
Of course, Nick being Nick, added no clarity to his answer.
"Of course not. That's not the point."
With that, Nick was back to yelling at the crowd.
"Goodbye! Goodbye! I'll miss you!"
With a shrug of his shoulders, Finnick joined in, adding his voice to the swell of voices, feeling the exhilaration of the moment.
"Goodbye!" the fennec shouted.
"I will never forget you!"
And down below, the crowd of cheering well-wishers waved heartily as the black wall of metal was pulled away from them, the impossibly tiny figures waving back from the ship's rails. And on the bridge, Captain Edward Smith, the commodore and most senior commander of the White Star Line walked up to his officers, a proud smile on the bearded Mastiffs face as he looked to Humphrey, his tail lightly wagging behind him.
"Release tugs and All Ahead Slow, Mr. Chambers."
"Very good, Sir," Humphrey responded with a laugh as he followed his Sam onto the bridge, ringing her telegraphs to DEAD SLOW as the sound of splashing towlines could be heard outside.
Down in the engine, the engineers worked fast to get Titanic under way, and before long, Titanic was slowly cruising toward the river Test, where she would depart into the English Channel for Cherbourg, France. The port authorities in Cherbourg were made aware of their departure through the wireless, thanks to Mason transmitting the message himself.
But, as Titanic steamed along the river, the great ship passed by two other vessels, the R.M.S. Oceanic, and the S.S. City of New York. In a span of seconds, the officers on the bridge, as well as several other passengers and crew heard what sounded like six shots of a revolver being fired. Immediately after, frightened screams and shouts could be heard from the port side decks. Rushing over to the port bridge wing, Samuel, accompanied by Smith, could see that due to the displacement of the massive Titanic, the swell had caused New York to snap free from all six of her moorings...
Causing her stern to swing out toward Titanic, much to the alarm of Nick and Finnick on the poop deck.
"HARD TO PORT!" Smith called, "ALL STOP, PORT ENGINE FULL ASTERN!"
Quickly, Samuel ran back to the bridge, relaying the orders to the crew, who quickly went into action.
For several minutes, the crew and passengers of both ships and those on the pier held their breaths as New York's stern inched closer and closer to Titanic. For a moment, it seemed as if there was going to be a collision. But luckily, the blast of water from the port propeller going full astern managed to momentarily halt the New York, allowing some nearby tugs amble time to get the derelict liner under control...
Just as she had come within four inches of Titanic's hull.
To some, it was a relief, to others…
A Bad Omen.
Unfortunately, the incident did cause a one-hour delay...
One which Mason and the wireless operators were none too happy about relaying.
"Here come the complaints," Mason groaned, as he knew the slightest inconvenience to First-Class passengers would result in them sending messages to family or businesses, either telling them of the delay and/or all out complaining about it.
But before long Titanic was released into the English Channel. And after having recovered from the excitement of the near collision, Nick and Finnick found themselves walking down a narrow corridor with doors lining both sides like a college dorm. And needless to say, total confusion was present as mammals argued over luggage in several languages, or wandered in confusion in the labyrinth as they passed emigrants who did not speak a lick of English; a male Chinese water deer, some Siberian tiger brothers and a Norwegian elkhound studying the signs over the doors, and looking up the words in phrase books.
But, luckily for Nick and Finnick, they found a less crowded corridor up on E-Deck, a long, uninterrupted passage known affectionately by the crew as Scotland Road, named after a long street in Southampton. This allowed third-class passengers and crew to walk almost the entire length of the ship without too much clutter. And if Nick was sure about one thing, he had wished that he and Finnick had made it to the forward gangway.
For safety reasons toward women and children, single males and males traveling in groups were berthed in the forward berths of the ship. But luckily for Nick and Finnick, they were built for a bit of endurance, the two making into the forward stairwells in no time before descending the steps to F-Deck, before descending one more to G-Deck.
"G-11, G-11," Nick whispered to himself as he looked at the name plates over the doors, desperate to find his and Finnick's berth, which Nick found after another few minutes of reading. And as they entered, the two foxes were rather impressed with the modest cubicle, painted enamel white, with four bunks. Sure, there were exposed pipes overhead, but the birth did come with a mirror and wash basin, a far cry from White Star's rival, Cunard. And fresh linens, something Cunard also did not have for their third-class accommodations. And as Finnick hopped into the top bunk of the unoccupied berth, Nick introduces himself to the two other VERY confused occupants of the cabin.
Two reindeer by the name of Olaf and Oaken Bjorgman.
"How you doing? Nick Wilde," Nick said, shaking Olaf's hand before moving to Oaken.
"Nick Wilde, nice to meet ya."
And as Nick throws his kit into the bottom bunk, Olaf looks to Oaken in pure befuddlement.
"Hvor er Sven?" he inquired in Norwegian, only to receive a shrug from Oaken.
But up in first class, the modest third-class berths were a far contrast from one of the so-called "Millionaire Suites", the parlor suite rooms B-51, 53 and 55, the elegant cabins designed in the elegant Empire style, and comprised of two bedrooms, a bath, water closet, wardrobe room, and a large sitting room. In addition, there is a private promenade deck outside, a spacious fifty feet in length. And as the gentle breeze moved through the open door of the sitting room, Jack poured from a fine bearing of champagne into two tulip glassed of orange juice before handing the Bucks Fizz to Judy and Porsha, the young wolf assisting Judy as the bunny, looks through her new paintings that were purchased throughout Europe. There is a Monet of water lilies, a Degas of dancers, and a few abstract works from an as-of-yet unknown Spanish artist.
"Is it this one Judy?" Porsha inquired, picking up another Monet, only for Judy to put down her fizz to get a better grip on the paintings as she pulled them from their boxes.
"No," she shrugged, taking the painting from Porsha before placing it on the sofa in the room.
"It had a lot of faces on it."
"Would you like them all out, Miss Judy?" Skye inquired as she helped to unload the art with her husband, all while Suki and Bogo watched with great disinterest.
"Yes," Judy said with teasing smile as she looked at the drab oak paneling of the cabin, "we could use some color in this room."
"Is this it, Miss?" Jack inquired, producing another abstract painting of several faces, each of varying mammals in a very angular, psychedelic manner. And the moment Judy saw the painting, her face lit up.
"That's the one," she giddily responded, happily taking the work from an equally beaming Jack. All the while, as the girls sorted through the works of art, Jimmy was out on the covered deck, which had potted trees and vines on trellises, talking through the doorway to Judy in the sitting room.
"Those mud puddles were certainly a waste of money."
"I would be inclined to agree with Mr. Crystal, Miss Hopps," Suki added in, the saluki crossing her arms as he watched the rabbit fuss over the cubist portrait.
"Well, Suki," Porsha responded with a rather smug smirk, "it just goes to show that the difference between yours and Daddy's taste in art and Judy's is that she HAS some."
Upon hearing this, Judy sent an appreciative smile to her soon-to-be step-daughter, who was only two years younger than her.
"Porsha is right, Suki," Judy said, gently taking Porsha's free hand into both of hers, the two girls sharing a warm smile before the rabbit sent the clearly taken aback saluki a hard glare.
"They're fascinating," she continued as she looked back at the portrait, a deep, contemplative look on her face as she gazed upon the unique piece.
"Like in a dream... there's truth without logic."
"What was the artist's name, Miss?" Bogo inquired with a shrug, the buffalo deciding it best at the moment to humor the bunny fiancé of his employer.
"Something Picasso?" Judy said as more of a question, her squinting eyes finding it hard to properly read the signature that was at the bottom of the canvas. As she said this, Jimmy entered the sitting room, a champagne glass of his own in his hand as he scoffed at his fiancé's statement.
"'Something Picasso?' He'll never amount to a thing, trust me."
And as Judy walked in the direction of her room, Jimmy sent one last quip to Bogo and Suki.
"At least they were bloody cheap."
And just as the buffalo and saluki shared in their employers laugh, Jerry wheeled Jimmy's private safe into the room on a handtruck.
"Where do you want this, sir?" he asked the buffalo with a huff.
"Put it in the wardrobe," Bogo instructed the porter, the tabby doing as instructed, the feline steward briefly catching a glimpse of Judy and Porsha entering her room with the large Degas of the dancers, which she sets on the dresser, near the canopy bed as Skye begins hanging up some of her clothes. And as she did, Skye just couldn't help but ramble about the immaculate space.
"It smells so brand new," she said with a gleeful chuckle, Judy and Porsha both joining the white vixen in her revelry.
"Like they built it all just for us. I mean...just to think that tonight, when I crawl between the sheets, I'll be the first."
"And when I crawl between the sheets tonight, I'll still be the first."
Jumping a bit at the sudden intrusion, the three ladies turn to sea Jimmy leaning against the door frame, his focus on only one thing, a hungry glint in his eyes as he stares at his fiancé, who happens to notice the faint blush on her maid's face as she catches on to the innuendo.
"S'cuse me, Miss," she said before making her way out of the room, edging around Jimmy as she makes a quick exit. Jimmy, then turns his attention to his only daughter and heir, the teenage wolf feeling a bit small under her father's glare. And when he jerked his head, Porsha didn't need any more instruction as she followed after Skye, glancing over her shoulder to see Jimmy coming up behind Judy and puts his hands on her shoulders.
An act of possession, not intimacy.
And what he said next not only sent a chill down Judy's spine, but Porsha's as well.
"The first and only…Forever."
And needless to say, Judy's expression showed how bleak a prospect that is for her, now. And at that moment, Porsha felt sorry for the poor bunny, the young canine wishing she could do something to ease her dread. But luckily for a Judy, a slight commotion came from the sitting room, catching both her and Jimmy's attention as the white wolf barrels from the bedroom past Porsha towards the sitting room, only to be met with the site of Bogo having a very heated argument with the ship's young Junior-First Officer.
"Well can't you light an extra boiler, or something?!"
"This is not an automobile, Master Bogo," Samuel responded, the Irish-wolf's muzzle scrunched up in an indignant frown, his cap tucked under his arm, revealing his neatly kept blonde hair underneath.
"But rest assured we are making best possible speed."
"What's going on here?" Jimmy inquired in clear agitation, his glare squarely on the young officer, who much to the admiration of Judy and Porsha, stood his ground, showing no signs of fear toward the angry theater tycoon.
"My apologies, Mr. Crystal," Samuel responded, standing straighter as he addressed the mogul.
"But the Captain thought it best to inform the passengers that given the little ruckus we had with the New York, we may be an hour or two late to Cherbourg.
"Oh, that is a nuisance," Judy responded with deep frown, which did not go unnoticed by Samuel as he merely offered a kind smile in return.
"I apologize for the inconvenience, Judy."
"You will refer to her as Ms. Hopps," Suki interrupted, her cold gaze now squarely on the wolf officer for his little faux-paux.
"I will refer to my friends any way I like, MS. Lane," Samuel responded, a twinge of satisfaction creeping over his body as he saw the saluki's aghast expression. And while he wished he could revel in the scene, he knew he had to continue his rounds.
"OH SAM!" Judy called, catching the wolf's attention just as he was about out of the door.
"I forgot to offer congratulations…Papa."
And of course, the reminder of the officer's upcoming venture into the unknown territory of fatherhood made a large smile spread across his lips.
"Be sure to congratulate Terra as well," he responded, offering one last bit of information before departing.
"She'll be boarding at Cherbourg."
Off course, Sam was referring to his wife of two years,
Terra Ramirez-Davis, Daughter of Spanish-American bank tycoon, Juan "King" Ramirez.
When Samuel had first laid on eyes on the American-born Spanish female, who was traveling with her father when he had just become fifth officer on the Oceanic, he could have sworn his heart was going to pound its way out of his chest. As his eyes fixated on her gleaming auburn fur, his gaze traced over her lithe but curvaceous frame, clad in a dazzling gold, strapless dinner dress, he knew the moment hazel eyes met gold that they would spend the rest of their lives together.
And on New Years Day in 1910, that vision became reality.
And only before Titanic's sister, Olympic departed from New York to Southampton that Terra revealed some exciting news; Samuel was going to be a Papa thanks to a night of passion in their new Brooklyn home, the thought making a giddy smile once again spread on his muzzle as butterflies flew in his stomach.
"I keep forgetting he's married to a banker's daughter," Bogo said with a snort, his comment pulling Judy out of her reminiscing.
"A woman of Terra Ramirez's caliber should be married to a man of class," Jimmy butted in, his comment causing a huff of amusement, but a deep frown to form on Porsha's muzzle.
"I think it's romantic," she quipped, only to receive a very harsh jab from her father in the most calm, cold way.
"No one cares what you think."
"Even so," Judy coldly added in, placing a comforting hand on the dejected Porsha's back, the gesture positively received in the form of a sad smile, "don't forget that Terra is a good friend of mine…and that a good chunk of her father's money is not only in Olympic, but Titanic as well."
Judy, of course, was referring to her good friend's father, Juan Ramirez, or King as he was called. And of course, many like Jimmy would assume that the owner of one of the largest banks on the East Coast of the United States would want his daughter to marry someone of wealth. But King, of all people, knew what it was like to be unfairly judged because of who you were.
King had immigrated to the United States with his parents from Madrid when he was boy in the 1870s. Of course, once there, he and his family faced much adversity. Being forced to stay in a crowded tenant building in New York City, King and his parents, much to their great displeasure, were forced to take jobs many Americans did not want. King actually started as a lowly shoe-shiner on Broadway, where he actually received very generous tips, and also managed to learn a sizable amount of English in the process.
One day, at the age of fourteen, while on his way to his usual spot, King inadvertently stopped a thief who had pickpocketed a wealthy banker. The thief had barreled into King, both falling to the ground, the thief dropping a finely decorated man-purse in the process. Rather than risk being caught while trying to retrieve the object, the man bolted, leaving a very frightened King staring up at a well-dressed, brown-furred hare...
Flanked by two policemen.
But, just as the two officers reached for King to arrest him, the wealthy hare waved them off, telling as he helped King to his feet them that the boy before them was not the thief, as he had gotten a clear look at him before he bolted down the street...and that he was more than likely gone by then. Upon noticing the young boy's shoe-shining equipment, the man asked for a shine. Within fifteen minutes, King had shined the wolf's shoes to a mirror-like finish. Impressed by the young boy's dedication to work, the hare offered King an apprenticeship.
And it was on that day in 1882, that King began working for John Pierpont Morgan...
J.P. to his friends.
For the next eight years , King worked his way up the corporate latter, eventually gaining the title of Partner. In that time, he met a beautiful young woman, her auburn fur accentuating her deep blue eyes. In 1888 the two married, and in 1890, they welcomed their daughter into the world.
And by 1895, King was the owner of his own, very successful bank.
But his success was not without hardship.
His parents had died before they could see him grow in the world of industry. King's investments also took a massive hit in 1898 with Anti-Spanish sentiment during the Spanish-American War. The next year, King's wife had died after a sudden bout of pneumonia. Over the next four years King's finances suffered, and by 1905, his company was on the verge of bankruptcy.
But, one day in 1906, with his bank in shambles, King was approached by two old friends;
Canadian Businessman Winston Maverick, and Scottish-American Businessman Anthony "Tony" Reynolds."
In 1895, Winston and Tony had approached King about an investment loan on a growing American-Canadian railway line. In the end, the investment turned a hefty profit, with Winston and Tony owning a large portion of stocks on the Canadian Express, one of the most successful rail-lines on the North American Continent.
And when they heard of King's predicament, well, King always believed what goes around, comes around.
Within two years, King's wealth had returned exponentially, his bank once again thriving.
He and his daughter once again living comfortably...
And currently traveling with Tony and Winston, along with the latter twos' families, for a tour of the European countryside. The tour would end come March in Cherbourg, France, were the group would return to America onboard Titanic for her maiden voyage.
And Judy, for one, could not wait to see her old friend again.
And Terra, for another, just couldn't wait to be on more stable ground as the auburn-furred wolf held her head, incredibly dizzy from the rocking motion of the White Star Tender Nomadic, which as this point was bobbing with her sister the Traffic, who was currently ferrying steerage passengers, in the choppy waters of Cherbourg harbor, the violet hue on the sky created by the setting sun offering little comfort to her as she placed a hand on her swollen stomach.
By her sides were her two best friends, Katelyn "Kate" Chambers and Lillian "Lilly" Reynolds, daughters of one of the men who had saved her father from bankruptcy all those years ago, Winston Maverick, who was currently chatting with her father and his personal valet, a Mr. Alexander Henchley, or Hench as he was called, along with his wife Eve and his business partner Tony Reynolds, as to why they were being forced to wait on the tender.
The Titanic was due to arrive at 4 P.M. earlier that afternoon. But, for some reason, when the time came, it was nowhere to be found. The tenders were set to depart at 5, but still, no Titanic. It was only after the tenders cast off that the harbor master had received the telegram that Titanic had been delayed. Now, many of the passengers, Terra included, were fighting seasickness. But Terra could find herself being sympathetic to another woman, a lovely young panthress, who appeared just behind her in time of her pregnancy.
Nineteen-year-old Madeline Astor found herself being comforted by her black-furred, mustachioed stag husband, Colonel John Jacob Astor IV, who was thirty years her senior. The couples traveling party were just returning from their honeymoon excursion.
Also onboard was the silver-furred Benjamin Guggenheim, a bobcat who had made his fortune by smelting Gold, a fortune that he spent like water. Mrs. Guggenheim was home in America, looking after their children as Ben traveled with his dark grey-furred wolf valet, Victor Giglio, and his latest mistress, the young amber-furred lynx French Singer and Socialite Madame Léontine Aubart.
Just behind the Guggenheim party was an elderly couple, their dull-grey fur a dead give-away to their age. This was Isidor Strauss, former U.S. Congressman and co-owner of Macy's Department Store, and his wife of forty years Ida, the couple returning home from a lengthy vacation.
But even taking in the many familiar faces didn't help Terra, whose attention was brought to Lilly, who eagerly patted her back to turn her gaze toward the vast ocean horizon.
"Here they come," she whispered excitedly, her violet eyes gleaming with mirth at the site of a four-funneled steamer heading their way.
At that moment, Terra forgot about her seasickness, and marveled at the massive vessel that pulled alongside them and dropped anchor in the harbor.
Due to Olympic and Titanic's large size, no pier in Cherbourg could accommodate either ship, which is the reason Nomadic and Traffic where built.
Once both tenders pulled alongside the great ship, the gangplanks were extended so passengers, with their luggage, as well as mail, could disembark into the majestic liner. Once onboard, the three young women gawked at the immaculate D-Deck Reception Area, which was right at the bottom of a flight of steps that were a part of the ship's beautiful oak Grad Staircase.
"Hello again Miss Kate, Miss Lilly," a lite cockney accent called to Kate and Lilly, who both turned to see a shortly-built, grey-furred wolf with yellow eyes, a friendly smile on his face as he addressed them. Kate and Lilly both beamed at the young Andrew Tibbons, or "Shakey" as he was often called by passengers and crew alike, including Kate's husband, Humphrey, who was also one of Shakey's closest friends.
"Hello Shakey," Lilly greeted as she pulled him into a tender hug, placing a sweet kiss on his cheek, making the young steward blush through his fur. Unfortunately, the sweet moment was interrupted by a thud, followed by a loud, brash Missouri accent.
"Well, I wasn't about to wait all day for you, Salty," a curvy, middle-aged, female brown bear jabbed, handing a small luggage tote to a flustered Alexander O'Connor, or "Salty" as she had called him.
"Here, you think you can manage?" the woman continued as she thrust the tote toward Salty, who let out a grunt of annoyance as he struggled with her large trunks.
"Yes Mam," he responded in a lite Cornish accent, letting out a sigh of relief when Shakey came to his assistance.
"At Cherbourg a woman came aboard named Margaret Brown, but we all called her Maggie. But, history would call her the Unsinkable Molly Brown. Her husband had struck gold someplace out west, and she was what mother called 'new money.'"
The brash ursine then made her way to the electric lifts located behind the staircase, passing by the trio of young ladies in the process, each sporting an amused smirk at Salty's predicament. At 45, Maggie is a tough talking straightshooter who dresses in the finery of her genteel peers but will never be one of them.
"Hey girls," she happily greeted as she passed, "see you at dinner."
"See you there Maggie," Kate giggled.
"Well, Salty's going to have fun on this trip, wouldn't you say."
Kate froze upon hearing, as she put, the "most dashing voice in the world."
Turning on her heels, Kate was met with the smug face of her charming English husband, accompanied by her sister's husband, the russet-furred Junior-Chief Officer Garth Reynolds, and Terra's husband.
"HUMPHREY!" she exclaimed, quickly wrapping her arms around his neck to plant a firm kiss on his lips, earning a muffled laugh from the officer, who just knew his wife would react upon learning he would be serving on the Titanic. As this happened, Terra and Lilly went to join their husbands, the latter giving a sad look as she watched Sam greet his wife with a kiss, only to lower himself to place a tender kiss on her stomach, reminding her of the yearning she had for a family of her own.
Catching onto his wife's shift in mood, Garth gently tilted her chin up so he could place a tender kiss on her forehead, which succeeded in gaining a small giggle from the snow-furred girl.
When all was said and done and Titanic had departed at ten past eight for Queenstown, Ireland, the trio of Officers, Humphrey having been granted the evening off by Captain Smith when he learned their wives would be embarking on the ship, treated the girls to a tour of the First-Class accommodations, from her state of the art gymnasium, to her heated salt-water swimming pool, to her squash court and Turkish bath.
But, then again, nothing they hadn't already seen on Olympic.
The men even showed the girls their own accommodations.
Since crew accommodations were only meant to hold a certain number, three cabins were always reserved on White Star Liners for the Junior-Senior Officers. For the Olympic-Class Liners, these were the suites A-1 for Junior First, A-2 for Junior Second, and A-3 for Junior Chief, located at the forward most part of A-Deck, which was in a perfect location just below the bridge.
Once the tour had completed and the three girls and finished dinner in the lavish dining saloon, the three men escorted their wives to their rooms.
Sam, upon kissing Terra goodnight, left to prepare for the 10 P.M. to 2 A.M. watch he had with Mr. Murdoch, passing by Mason on the Grand Staircase as the latter was preparing to turn in for the night.
Humphrey, after seeing Kate into her cabin, quickly shut the door as she let out a shriek, followed by an annoyed growl heard through door, after he gave a quick pinch of her tail. With that, Humphrey quickly jogged to his cabin to turn in for the night, so as not to be too tired when his morning 6 A.M. watch came.
Garth, however, found it harder than his two colleagues to bid goodnight to his wife. When Garth began to turn away after kissing Lilly goodnight, he found himself held in place by Lilly, who had a firm grip on his tie. Looking at his wife with confusion, the confusion quickly melted when he saw that Lilly's gaze was laced with passion, and even more dangerous...
Lust.
Needless to say, his 2 A.M. to 6 A.M. watch would be very tiring. But as Lilly pulled Garth into her cabin, both barely noticed a rather peculiar sight of a silver-furred wolf walking along the otherwise deserted hall, his tweed jacket, "borrowed" from a chap back in Southampton doing little to hide the smudges of grease and coal dust on his face.
Though Dax Priest always tried to live by his monicker of "Lucky Dax" whenever he could.
And right now, he was really pushing his luck. Dax still had two-and-a-half hours on his eight to midnight shift in Boiler Room 6. But being the sneaky devil he was, he had decided to take a trip up to first-class, which went without saying was a very bold and risky move as stokers were not meant to mingle with passengers. In fact, they were segregated from the crew as well, simply because they had the dirtiest job. In fact, the stokers' only means of getting to their stations in the six boiler rooms was through a long, narrow passage, known simply as the fireman's passage, that ran from Boiler Room 6 along the tank top to two sets of spiral staircases in the ship's second compartment. These stairs then went up to the firemen's mess, where the men would spend their eight hours off, eating, drinking, smoking, reading and the like.
Not very stately, but still practical enough to comfortable. In fact, at the top of the spiral staircases one would find a water fountain. Even here they could feel the touch of Thomas Andrews. And it probably went without saying that even this small gesture of kindness was greatly appreciated.
But for now, Dax just decided to marvel at the wrought-iron glass dome overhead. But as he observed the immaculately crafted Grand Staircase from the boat deck landing, he noticed a beautiful she-wolf enter through the starboard entrance, a sight to behold. But just as the door was about to close behind her, a gust of wind blew hard, and the beautiful she-wolf's hat flew off her head and landed nearby. Dax quickly rushed over and picked up her hat, then with his best manners returned it to her.
"A lovely lady such as yourself shouldn't be without her hat, Miss…?" Dax inquired with a chuckle, earning a lite giggle from the cream-colored lady in return.
"Malone," she answered with a sweet southern-belle accent.
"Sweets Malone."
"And he is Dax Priest, who should be down in Number 6," came the irritated brogue of Dax's friend, the stoker forcing a nervous smile on his face as he turned to meet the frowning face of Samuel, his arms crossed as his foot tapped impatiently on the floor.
"Sam, buddy…how'd you know?"
"Mr. Bell called up," Samuel responded with a not so amused frown, referring to the ship's chief engineer.
"Said Mr. Barret got with him that one of his stokers went missing."
"Oh," Sweets cooed, batting her eyelashes at the flustered stoker, "I must say, Mr. Pearce, you're lucky you found a girl who likes risk takers."
Dax's fur fluffed up a bit, a tingle down his spine as he took in the flirtatious tone of Sweets' comment. Unfortunately for him, he could not offer a response as Samuel started pushing him towards the staircase.
"I wouldn't, Sweets," an unamused Samuel responded, pushing Dax down the stairs with Scotland Road on E-Deck as their intended destination.
"This one's a bad influence."
"You wound me sir," Dax responded over dramatically, only letting out a laugh before giving one final farewell to Sweets before the Sam descended from A-Deck to B-Deck.
"Well, I'll see you around Sweets," Dax smiled and turned to leave, dramatically catching a kiss blown to him by the southern lady.
"I could have you on report, you know," Samuel quipped, only to share laugh at his friend's comment as they continued down.
"You're too fond of me for that."
It is 1:45 on Thursday, April 11.
Titanic's prow cut through the waves like a warm knife through butter, the Irish shore quickly fading behind her.
"By the next afternoon we were steaming west from the coast of Ireland, with nothing out ahead of us but ocean."
On the bridge, Mr. Murdoch and Samuel stood on the starboard wing, the gentle sea breeze blowing through the fur on both wolves' faces, looking forward to relishing in it more when their watch ended in fifteen minutes.
The duo were soon pulled from their thoughts at the sound of footsteps approaching them, only to stop beside Bill.
"Take Her to Sea, Mr. Davis," Captain Smith proudly ordered.
"Let's stretch her legs."
A broad smile formed on Samel's muzzle as he began to turn away.
"Yes Sir."
With that, Samuel walked into the enclosed navigation deck, calling to Sixth Officer Moody, who stood at attention with his arms behind his back.
"All Ahead Full, Jim," Samuel called, moving to one of the brass telegraphs.
"Very good sir," the young stag responded, moving to another telegraph, the sounds of their internal bells ringing through the air as they were moved to FULL AHEAD.
Down in the engine room, a single chime sounded from the receiving telegraph, a small indicator arrow pointing toward FULL AHEAD.
"All Ahead Full," the black-furred schnauzer Chief Engine Joseph Bell called, along with one of his fellow officers, gave orders to the thirty-five other engineers.
"ALL AHEAD FULL!"
Before long, the hulking engines began to pick up, the pistons going faster and faster as steam pressure from the boilers increased, all while Thomas Andrews watched in the background, taking notes in his little book as the engineers and greasers scramble to adjust valves to bring steam into the towering twin reciprocating engines, four stories tall, their ten-foot-long connecting rods surging up and down with the turning of the massive crankshafts as they thundered like the footfalls of marching giants.
In Boiler Room 6, the brown wolf Chief Stoker Frederick "Scar" Barret, so called for some nasty cuts he got during a bar fight, issued orders to the Black Gang, which consisted of Dax who was currently off duty as he had finished his shift at noon.
"COME ON LADS!" Scar called in a thick Liverpool accent, straining his voice to be heard over the roar of the coal-burning furnaces, "STOKE 'EM RIGHT UP! WE'RE GOING FULL AHEAD!"
The stokers chant a song as they hurl coal into the roaring furnaces, the mammals earning their moniker as they become more covered with sweat and coal dust, their muscles working like part of the machinery as they toil in the hellish glow.
Before long, Titanic's engines were pumping with all their might.
For the first time since her sea trials...
Titanic was brought up to cruising speed, the enormous bronze screws chopping through the water, hurling the steamer forward and churning up a vortex of foam that lingers for miles behind the juggernaut ship.
And as she is propelled through the waters of the Atlantic, Titanic glows with the warm creamy light of late afternoon as Nick and Finnick stand right at the bow, gripping the curved railing. And as Nick Jack over, looking down fifty feet to where the prow cuts the surface like a knife, he sees the ship sending up two glassy sheets of water in its wake, smoke pouring from the funnels as the water flares higher at the bow as the ship's speeds builds.
And all Nick can do is smile as the wind blows through his hair.
Back on the bridge, Smith and Mr. Murdoch reveled in the stronger breeze blowing over the ship, the sound of the waves made by her wake music to their ears.
But soon, Smith's ears were filled with wonderful news.
"Twenty-One Knots Sir."
Smith turned toward Samuel, who at this point was sporting an even broader smile than the one before.
With that, Smith returned his attention back toward the horizon, his chest swelling with pride, looking every bit the storybook picture of a Captain... a great patriarch of the sea.
"She's got a bone in her teeth now, eh, Mr. Davis."
Meanwhile, back at the bow, Nick and Finnick are leaning far over the railing far over, looking down into the glassy wake where two dolphins have appeared, under the water, running fast just in front of the steel blade of the prow. And at that moment, the two foxes could help but feel a special connection with the aquatic mammals, the exhilaration and sheer joy and exultation of the moment making the vulpine's grin.
"HEY, LOOK AT THAT ONE!" Nick hollered, pointing to one of the dolphins.
"LOOK AT HIM JUMP!"
And the moment he said this, Nick let out a holler of delight as one dolphin breached, jumping clear of the water and then diving back, crisscrossing in front of the bow with tis partner, dancing ahead of the of the mighty vessel as Finnick looks forward across the Atlantic, staring into the sun sparkles.
"I can see the Statue of Liberty already," he laughed, before bringing up his thumb and pointer in a pinching motion.
"Very small... of course."
"Yeah," Nick laughed. "Just like your dick."
And from the heavens, the two friends were framed perfectly on the see, the eyes of God moving across the forecastle deck, rising, as we as the ships rolls endlessly forward underneath. Over the bridge wing, along the boat deck, her funnels marching past like the pillars of heaven, the decks clustered with the people strolling on the decks and standing at the rail, looking like ants of the metal behemoth…
Colossal in her majesty.
"Yes indeed, she is the largest moving object ever made by the hand of man in all history," Mr. Ismay proudly boasted, he, along with his new young business partner Cain Adam, enjoying a mid-afternoon luncheon in the ship's Veranda Café with Crystal Party, Maggie Brown, and Mr. Andrews, the lovely Venusian style allowing plenty of natural sunlight in as the group sat at a modestly large table in the center of the room.
It is Friday, April 12, 1912, two days into Titanic's maiden voyage.
"And as you know," Cain added, "our master shipbuilder Mr. Andrews designed her from the keel plates up."
As the dark wolf speaks, he indicates the know 39-year-old grey wolf sitting opposite Mrs. Brown right, and Samuel to his left, the officer having joined at the insistence of his father's closest associate and friend. And if Samuel was certain of one thing, he was actually happy that Mr. Murdoch had convinced Captain Smith the Scots-wolf could manage the rest of their watch on his own. Though one thing was for sure, it would only be water for the officer since he was still on duty.
"Well," Mr. Andrews added bashfully, "not just me. Mr. Davis's father is also one of my lead draftsmen."
All eyes soon turned to Samuel, who merely shrugged as he continued to nurse his cream of barley soup, briefly meeting Judy's eyes, the bunny suddenly averting her gaze, as the mention of the young officer's father as one of the men who designed Titanic made her cringe at the memory of her comment to Jimmy the other day.
"We may have knocked her together," Mr. Andrews continued, "but the idea was Mr. Ismay and Uncle William's. Uncle William envisioned a steamer so grand in scale, and so luxurious in its appointments, that its supremacy would never be challenged. And here she is..."
A slap of the table later.
"Willed into solid reality."
"Here, Here," Jimmy cheered.
"Say," Maggie said, a look of playful confusion on her face, "Why're ships always bein' called 'she?'"
And much to Jimmy's shock and horror, the response came from Porsha.
"I think it's because men think half the women around have big sterns and should be weighed in tonnage?"
However, Jimmy really couldn't chastise his daughter, as the comment did earn a round of laughter from the others at the table, the wolf finding himself having to force a laugh.
"Just another example of us men settin' the rules our way," Samuel quipped back, earning a lite giggle from Porsha in return just as one of the waiters, a smartly dressed polar bear arrived to take orders. And as the bear inquired to Samuel of his order, Judy lights a cigarette, the action met with very visible disdain from Bonnie.
"You know I don't like that, Judy," she softly coos, only to receive a puff of smoke to the face from her indifferent daughter. Bonnie did her best not to cough, but before she could tell Judy to put the cigarette out...
"She knows," Jimmy growled as he took the cigarette from the decorative stem in Judy's hand stubbing it out in the ashtray on the table, much to the concern of the fiercely independent Mrs. Brown, who continued to eye Jimmy as he ordered for himself and Judy.
"We'll both have the Vegatable Marrow Farci…You like Farci, don't you sweetpea?"
Maggie is watching the dynamic between Judy, Jimmy and Bonnie, her frown deepening as Judy offers a forced smile, the expression greatly eclipsing Porsha's frown at the other end of the table opposite Mr. Ismay.
"So, you gonna spoon feed her too there, Jimmy?" Maggie inquired with a laugh, only for the new money socialite to quickly change the subject.
"So, who thought of the name Titanic…was it you Bruce?"
Mr. Ismay smiled as he looked proudly around the café.
"Yes actually," the foxhound responded before patting Cain on the shoulder.
"In fact, it was Mr. Adams's suggestion of naming the sister Olympic that inspired me."
"Well," Cain said with a surprisingly humble smile, "I felt it fitting that they be given names that convey sheer size…and size means stability, luxury, and above all strength."
Judy then felt it was time for a laugh.
"Have you heard of Dr. Freud, Mr. Adams?" she suddenly asked, causing all eyes to turn to the rabbit, who was sporting a playful smile.
"His studies on the male preoccupation of size may be of some particular interest to you."
At that moment, Jimmy, the two White Star males, and Bonnie all stiffened at Judy's statement, clearly aghast at this very LEWD topic. Meanwhile, Maggie could be seen nodding her head in agreement, a playful smirk on her face as well, all while Porsha, Mr. Andrews and the junior-officer were trying to stifle their laughter, Samuel nearly choking on his soup in the process, much to the displeasure of the clearly insulted Cain, who clenched his fists beneath the table upon noticing Mr. Ismay trying to hold back a chuckle.
Cain looked at Judy was his red eyes burning with rage, but since he was around so many people of great wealth and influence, the dark wolf got up and left the table muttering about how he had never been so insulted in all his life.
"What has gotten into you?" Bonnie quietly inquired, only to receive a surprise in the form of Judy rising abruptly from the table.
"Excuse me."
And as Judy barreled toward the sliding double-doors, leaving her flabbergasted mother behind to apologize for the LEWD joke.
"I do apologize, everyone," Bonnie said, only for her apology to be laughed away by the officer present.
"No need to apologize, Mrs. Hopps," he said, before sending a cold glare towards Cain who was filling a glass with expensive wine.
"Mr. Adams needs to be grabbed by the scruff of the neck every now and again."
But with that said, Samuel turned his attention to an equally frustrated Jimmy.
"Still…she's a pistol, Mr. Crystal," Samuel said, laughing at his own little rhyme as he quirked a teasing eyebrow at the white wolf.
"You sure you can handle her?"
And while Jimmy didn't like the insinuation that the young man was making, he hid his tense attitude behind a look of unconcern.
"Well, I may have to start minding what she reads from now on, won't I, Mr. Davis."
"Freud?" Cain begrudgingly inquired coming back to the table, hoping to steer the conversation away from his humiliation, his face taught in indignation.
"Who is he? Is he a passenger?"
Meanwhile, out on the poop deck, some third-class passengers decided to take advantage of the decent weather, whether it be children playing as their parents relaxed on the multitude of benches present, much like the Ottertons, or couples just enjoying their time together. In fact, Nick was sitting on a capstan near the railing, his knees pulled up, supporting his leather-bound sketching pad, his only valuable possession. And with a conte crayon he draws rapidly, using sure strokes as he captures the lifelike essence of Vixey and Todd Anderson, the vixen leaned back against her husband's chest, his arms wrapped around her waist as they watched the seagulls.
Nick captures them perfectly, with a great sense of the mammality of the moment, and only further proved how good Nick is with a pen and paper. Really good. Even Finnick enjoyed watching Nick work, the fennec looking over his friend's shoulder, offering a nod of approval. But as he looks back to the other mammals on the deck, Finnick is surprised to see the scowling face of a newly arrived Dax, the stoker having once again snuck away from his place in the firemen's mess to get some fresh air on the poop deck, his filthy clothes covered by the same "borrowed" jacket as when he met the lovely Sweets Malone two nights earlier.
"The ship is nice, yes?" Finnick sheepishly inquired, the Egyptian fox hoping to strike up a friendly conversation. Luckily, Dax's scowl was mainly for looks as a cheeky smile took its place.
"Yeah," Dax responded with a laugh, "it's an Irish Ship."
This caused a confused frown to take its place on Finnick's muzzle.
"It's English, no?"
"Noooo!" Dax responded with a playful scowl of insult, his Irish brogue coming full force as he regained the tail of Titanic's birth to the now very curious vulpine.
"Twas built in Belfast. 15,000 Irish mammals knocked her together. Solid as rock. Nothing can sink her."
"I'll take your word for it," Nick suddenly interjected, the fox having looked up from his work to send Dax a playful wink.
"You better…I'm Dax Priest."
"Nick Wilde," Nick responded, his outstretched hand accepted by Dax, who then turned to Finnick in similar greeting.
"Finnick."
But as Dax and Finnick resume their conversation, Nick happens to glance across the well deck, at the aft railing of the A-deck promenade, where one lovely bunny in a stunning yellow dress stands. And it went without saying that Nick was unable to take his eyes off of her. In fact, they seemed so close, in distance, but so far in their different worlds, with the well deck like a valley between them, she on her promontory, he on his much lower one as she stares down at the water.
And as Nick kept his focus on her, he watches the bunny unpin her elaborate hat and take it off, before tossing it over the railing, sailing far down to the water before it is carried away, astern; a spot of yellow in the vast ocean. And with that one image, he is riveted by her, as she looks like a figure in a romantic novel, sad and isolated.
Catching on to his friend's infatuated stupor, Finnick signals to Dax, both looking at Nick as he gazes at Judy, both wolf and fennec grinning at each other. Finnick even playful waves his hand in front of Nick, hoping to get a reaction…which he does not. Finnick and Dax grin at each other.
"Forget it, boyo," Dax finally says, a sad little smile on his face as he himself catches the vision of beauty in the form of Sweets Malone as she walks away from the railing on the boat deck above Judy.
"You'd as like have angels fly out o' yer arse as get next to the likes o' her."
But then again, Dax had been wrong before. For it seemed the moment he said this, Judy suddenly turned her eyes, meeting Nick's in an instant. And in that moment, Nick is caught staring, but he makes no attempt to look away. Unfortunately, she does…but then looks Back, almost in curiosity and perplexing at this strange tod, their eyes meeting across the space of the well deck, across the gulf between worlds.
Unfortunately, the moment ends when Nick sees a wolf come up behind Judy and take her arm, only for her to jerks her arm away, leading to a silent argument that Nick cannot hear. And given how the lovely bunny stormed away, and the wolf going after her, disappearing along the A-deck promenade, Nick was able to surmise that the argument was not going her way.
"I feel sorry for her," Dax said before heading back to join the other stokers.
"That wolf is no prince in shining armor, but devil of greed and power."
But in the end, all Nick could do was stare where she had stood.
And all Judy could do that night was stare at her plate, flanked by mammals in heated conversation, whether it be Jimmy and Bonnie laughing together, or Porsha catching up with Terra at another table. But for Judy, she couldn't hear what they were saying, nor did she really try as the inconsequential babbled around her.
She's in her own little world.
A dark and dreary world at that.
And underneath the table, holding a tiny fork from her salad, Judy pokes the utensil into the fur and skin of her arm, harder and harder until it draws blood redder than her dress.
"I saw my whole life as if I'd already lived it... an endless parade of parties and cotillions, yachts and polo matches... always the same narrow people, the same mindless chatter. I felt like I was standing at a great precipice, with no one to pull me back, no one who cared... or even noticed."
Later that night, Judy walked along the B-deck corridor, offering a nod and slight smile to Salty as he came the other way. But the moment she enters her room, the aura of her being changes instantly as she stands in the middle, staring at her reflection in the large vanity mirror.
Just standing there, until…
A primal, anguished cry left Judy's mouth as she clawed at her throat, ripping off her pearl necklace, which exploded across the room. In a frenzy she tears at herself, her clothes, her hair...before turning her aggression of the room, as she flings everything off the dresser, everything flying and clattering against the wall. Grabbing a hand mirror, Judy hurls it against the vanity, cracking it before bolting out of the room in tears. And before she knows it…
Judy was running along the B-deck promenade, disheveled, hair flying as the damp fur on her cheeks are streaked with tears. But at the same time, she is angry and furious, shaking with emotions she doesn't understand... hatred, self-hatred, desperation. And at the time, she doesn't care about the shocked expressions of Winston and Eve Maverick and Tony Reynolds, all aghast at such an emotional display.
But Judy doesn't care, as she only lets her legs keep taking her further and further aft, down into the well deck, where some seamen are taking a break, only stopping to catching the perplexing image of the despondent rose running past them until running up the stairs to the poop deck…
Where Nick is kicked back on one of the benches, gazing at the stars blazing gloriously overhead, thinking artist thoughts, and smoking a cigarette.
But upon hearing something, Nick turns to see Judy run up the stairs from the well deck, making them the only two on the stern deck. Though Judy doesn't see Nick in the shadows, running past him without a sideways glances as she runs across the deserted fantail. And the moment she slams against the base of the stern flagpole, her breath hitches in an occasional sob, which she suppresses as she clings there, panting, staring out at the black water below.
But after only five seconds of just standing and staring, Judy is suddenly enveloped with an overwhelming desire. She doesn't even protest as her limps seem to do the thinking for her as she starts to climb over the railing, having to hitch her long dress way up for the clumsy climb, moving methodically as she turns her body and gets her heels on the white-painted gunwale, her back to the railing, facing out toward the blackness 60 feet below her, the massive propellers churning the Atlantic into white foam as a ghostly wake trails off toward the horizon.
And in that moment, she seems like a figurehead in reverse, the huge gold words TITANIC LIVERPOOL below her on the black hull as she leans out, her arms straightening... looking down hypnotized, into the vortex below her as her dress and hair are lifted by the wind of the ship's movement. At that moment the only sound, above the rush of water below, is the flutter and snap of the big Blue Ensign right above her.
"Don't do it."
Judy whips her head around at the sound of the male voice, taking a second or two focus on the fox behind her, his arm cautiously stretched out to her, almost as if ready to grab her should she let go.
"Stay back!" she bellows, her tears reflected by the running lights on the stern.
"Don't come any closer!
Jack sees the tear tracks on her cheeks in the faint glow from the stern running lights.
"Take my hand. I'll pull you back in," Nick tries again, inching just a little closer to Judy, only for her to shout again, making him freeze in his tracks.
"No! Stay where you are! I mean it…I'll let go!"
Seeing that he wasn't going to get anywhere at this rate, Nick, with as reassuring a gesture as possible, took the now spent cigarette from between his lips, before flicking it over the rail into the ocean below, stepping back to wear he was immediately after as he tucked his hands in his jacket pockets.
"No, you won't, Carrots," he said in rather dismissive tone, a nonchalant expression on his face which greatly contrasted from Judy's one of confusion…and indignation.
"Don't call me Carrots…and what do you mean no I won't?" she said, clearly insulted as she looked over her shoulder.
"Don't presume to tell me what I will and will not do. You don't know me, and I don't know you."
"Well, you would have done it already," he responded with a laugh, once again trying his luck by inching closer to the bunny, his hand being offered to her again.
"Now come on, take my hand."
Judy is beyond confused now. She knows he's a fox, but she can't see him very well through the tears, so she wipes them with one hand, almost losing her balance.
"You're distracting me. Go away."
"I can't do that," Nick responded with a shrug.
"I'm involved now. If you let go I have to jump in after you."
At that moment, to prove his point, Jack flings off his jacket, the garment on the deck in a matter of seconds as the fox then moves to untie the laces on his boots.
"Don't be absurd," Judy scoffed.
"You'll be killed."
"I'm a good swimmer," Nick responds, taking off the right boot.
"The fall alone would kill you," Judy rebutted, the bunny really wishing the fox would just leave her to her own devices.
"It would hurt," Nick responded, moving to his left boot now, it's twin now sitting upright on the deck.
"I'm not saying it wouldn't. To be honest I'm a lot more concerned about the water being so cold."
And it was upon hearing this that the reality of what she was doing started to sink in for Judy as she stared into the black abyss beneath her.
"How cold?" she asks hesitantly. At this point, Nick had discarded his left boot, the fox now slumped over the railing as he spoke to Judy.
"Freezing…maybe a couple degrees over."
And given that it was the middle of spring in the North Atlantic, Judy didn't really need to use her imagination.
"Ever been to Wisconsin?"
The question is very random and catches Judy off guard. But at the present time, it isn't the strangest thing out of the whole situation.
"No."
The answer is short, but genuinely curious, which Nick sees as a good sign and interprets as permission to continue.
"Well, they have some of the coldest winters around, and I grew up there, near Chippewa Falls. Once when I was a kid me and my father were ice-fishing out in Deerbrooke…"
Nick pauses briefly, thinking that he sees a look of confusion flash on Judy's face at the sport he mentioned.
"Ice-fishing's where you chop a hole in the –"
"I know what ice fishing is idiot!"
Nick is taken aback by the sharp tongue on Judy, his hand sup in a defensive gesture as a result.
"Sorry. Just... you look like kind of an indoor girl. Anyway, I went through some thin ice and I'm tellin' ya, water that cold... like that right down there... it hits you like a thousand knives all over your body. You can't breath, you can't think...least not about anything but the pain."
With that, Nick stands to his full height, his hands tucked in his trouser pockets as he turns to look at Judy.
"Which is why I'm not looking forward to jumping in after you. But like I said, I don't see a choice. I guess I'm kinda hoping you'll come back over the rail and get me off the hook here."
"You're crazy," Judy responds, a slight laugh escaping her throat much to her chagrin. But for some reason, the light chuckle that nick gave back seemed to put her at ease.
"That's what everybody says. But with all due respect, Carrots… I'm not the one hanging off the back of a ship."
With that, he slides one step closer, like moving up on a spooked kit.
"Come on," he softly cooed, offering his hand once again.
"You don't want to do this…give me your hand."
Judy stares at this madman for a long time, her eyes trying to read his expression, which is one of pure conviction. But the moment their eyes meet looks at his eyes, his green eyes suddenly seem to fill her universe. And so, without a word, she unfastens one hand from the rail, reaching around towards him, with him reaching out and firmly taking it.
Her hands are tiny compared to his.
"I'm Nick Wilde," he said with a smile, which he was happy to see returned.
"Pleased to meet you, Mr. Wilde," she responds in a shaking breath, the reason being that since she has decided to live, the height is terrifying, the bunny overcome by vertigo as she shifts her footing, turning to face the ship. But as she starts to climb, her dress gets in the way.
And one foot slips off the edge of the deck.
Judy lets out a mighty shriek as she plunges downward, Nick, gripping her hand, jerked forward, his chest slammed against the top railing as Judy barely grabs the lower rail with her free hand.
"HELP ME! PLEASE! HELP!"
"I've got you. I won't let go!" Nick reassures as he holds tightly to Judy's hand with all his strength, bracing himself on the railing with his other hand as Judy tries to get some kind of foothold on the smooth hull to try and lift her body over the railing. Unfortunately, she can't get any footing in her dress and evening shoes, and she slips back, another scream echoing through the air, hitting the ears of Humphrey, who has just come off watch and is enjoying a chat with the three seamen in the well-deck, is suddenly alerted to the cries of a female on the poop deck, the grey wolf bolting for the stares, followed close by the seamen.
And as the crew members run to the aid of the clearly distressed damsel, Nick awkwardly clutches Judy by whatever he can get a grip on as she flails, before finally getting her back over the railing, both falling together onto the deck in a tangled heap, spinning in such a way that Nick winds up slightly on top of her.
And the time could not be worse as Humphrey and the seamen arrive on the scene.
"Here, what's all this?!" the junior officer inquired, running up and pulling Nick off of Judy, revealing her disheveled and sobbing on the deck, her dress torn, and the hem is pushed up above her knees, showing one ripped stocking. At that moment, Humphrey looks at nick, the shaggy steerage fox with his jacket off, and the first-class lady clearly in distress, and starts drawing conclusions, as do the three seamen.
"Here you, stand back! Don't move an inch!" he bellowed at Nick, the usually cheerful and friendly wolf now a raging inferno. And at that moment, Nick knew it better not to make things worse for himself as he rose to his feet. And when he was able to ascertain that the fox was a safe distance away from the bunny, Humphrey turned to one of the seamen.
"Fetch the Master at Arms."
Not five minutes later, Nick is being detained by the burly master at arms, Thomas King, the mustachioed polar bear the closest thing to a cop on board, as he handcuffs Nick, who is face to face with a very livid Jimmy, who obviously just rushed out with Bogo and another canine, for none of them have coats over their black-tie evening dress. The other canine is Colonel Archibald Gracie, a mustachioed blowhard of a Chesapeake retriever who still has his brandy snifter, which he offers to Judy, who waves it away even as she is hunched over crying on a bench nearby.
But at the present time, Jimmy is more concerned with Nick, as he grabs the fox by the lapels, practically snarling in his face, much to Humphrey and Mr. King's concern.
"What made you think you could put your hands on my beautiful fiancee?!"
Once these words hit his ears, Nick cast a shocked expression towards Judy, who seemed to finally start to calm down as she looked in his direction, their eyes meeting once again. And from what Judy could see, Nick was silently begging for help. Unfortunately, Jimmy did not see it that way.
"Look at me, you steerage filth! What did you think you were doing?!"
At that moment, Judy jumps to her feet, rushing over to put herself between Nick and a now shocked Jimmy.
"Jimmy, stop! It was an accident."
"An accident?!" Jimmy inquired, his rage almost instantly diminished as a look of confusion and disbelief took it's place.
"It was," Judy continued, throwing in an "embarrassed" laugh for good measure.
"Stupid really. I was leaning over and I slipped."
Seeing that she now had Jimmy's attention away from Nick, Judy kept adding to her lie.
"I was leaning way over, feeling a little sick. And I must have gotten dizzy because I slipped and I would have gone overboard... and Mr. Wilde here saved me and he almost went over himself."
"You were sick…she must have been drinking too much of the wine." Jimmy said to the other males present, each of them join in the light laughter that followed, save for Mr. King.
"Like I say," the Colonel added in, a charming southern twang to his voice, "women and booze do not mix."
At that moment, a less-than-convinced Mr. King pulled Nick back, the artic ursine seeming to glare into the fox's very soul.
"Was that the way of it?"
Looking at the bunny by Jimmy, Nick can see that she is begging him with her eyes not to say what really happened. And, well, he would give her that since she just saved his tail from spending the rest of the voyage in the ship's padded cell on D-deck.
"Uh huh. That was pretty much it."
With that, both fox and bunny looked at each other a moment longer.
Now they have a secret together.
"Well! The boy's a hero then," Humphrey added in, the officer sheepishly rubbing the back of his neck for jumping to conclusions.
"Good for you son, well done!" Gracie added in as Mr. King uncuffs Nick before turning back to Jimmy, who is preparing to escort Judy back to her cabin.
"So, it's all's well and back to our brandy, eh?"
"Let's get you in. You're freezing," Jimmy said to Judy, clearly paying no mind to Gracie…or Nick for that matter. Something Gracie makes known to the wolf mogul.
Jimmy is leaving without a second thought for Nick.
"Ah... perhaps a little something for the boy?"
"Oh, right," Jimmy responds, giving a dismissive wave to the buffalo following behind.
"Mr. Bogo. A twenty should do it."
Upon hearing this, Judy abruptly stops, insult written all over her face at Jimmy's idea of a "reward."
"Is that the going rate for saving the woman you love?"
Jimmy is a bit taken aback, but soon a playful smirk pulls on his lips.
"Judy is displeased. Mmm... what to do?"
Turning back to Nick, Jimmy begins appraising him condescendingly...a steerage ruffian, unwashed and ill-mannered. And with that thought in mind, a devious grin replaces his playful smirk.
"I know," he said, walking right up to Nick.
"Perhaps you could join us for dinner tomorrow, to regale our group with your heroic tale?"
Now Nick was no idiot. He knew right away what Jimmy was doing. But for most of his life he used to the stiff upper-close looking down their noses at him. And this dinner party would be no different.
"Sure. Count me in."
"Good. Settled then," jimmy responded with a smug grin before turning to go, putting a protective arm around Judy as he leans close to Gracie as they walk away, his hushed statement making the Colonel snort back a laugh.
"This should be amusing."
When all was said and done, the only ones left on the poop deck were Nick, Humphrey and Bogo. But just as the buffalo prepared to follow his employer, he was stopped by a whistle from Nick, the sound catching both him and Humphrey off guard.
"Can I bum a cigarette?"
And while he knew he didn't have to, Bogo decided he would at least humor this fox as he smoothly drew a silver cigarette case from his jacket, snapping it open, for Nick to take a cigarette, then another, popping it behind his ear for later. But as for a light, Bogo decided he had done enough. But much to his annoyance, the now very friendly Humphrey, who was actually preparing to puff his own pipe, lit one of Nick's cigarettes.
And as he did, Bogo eyed the fox suspiciously.
"You'll want to tie those," he said, drawing both wolf and fox's attention to Nick's united boots.
"Interesting that the young lady slipped so mighty all of a sudden and you still had time to take off your jacket and shoes. Mmmm?"
And as he says this, Bogo's expression is bland, but his eyes are cold as he turns away to join his group, leaving Nick alone with Humphrey, the wolf's face slack, but only briefly as he playfully claps Nick on the shoulder, offering a wink.
"Had my own bouts with the Blues," he said with a sad laugh, "and I could see it in Ms. Hopps…Good on ya lad."
And with that, Nick was alone, a satisfied little smirk on his muzzle.
Later that night, Judy is in her bedroom, undressing for bed, only stopping when she sees Jimmy standing in her doorway, reflected in the cracked mirror of her vanity. Unfortunately, he doesn't stay there as he walks toward her.
"I know you've been melancholy," he said in an unexpectedly tender way.
"And I don't pretend to know why."
The moment he reaches her, Jimmy produced a large black velvet jewel case from behind his back, offering it to Judy who take sit numbly.
"I intended to save this till the engagement gals next week. But I thought tonight, perhaps a reminder of my feeling for you..."
Judy slowly opens the box, revealing a stunning diamond necklace inside...a malevolent clear stone glittering with an infinity of scalpel-like inner reflections.
"My God..." Judy gasps, clearly stunned by the expensive piece of jewelry.
"Jimmy…is it a…"
"Diamond," he suddenly interrupted with a laugh, taking the necklace, and placing it around Judy's throat, the wolf turning her to the mirror, staring behind her.
"Yes, it is. 56 carats. It was once worn by Diane the Seventh. They call it…"
"The Zumpango Diamond," Judy finishes, the bunny in a stunned stupor as she caresses the precious gem.
"Jimmy…it's...it's overwhelming."
As she said this, Jimmy gazed at the image of the two of them in the mirror, his fingers caressing her neck and throat, seemingly disarmed by Judy's elegance and beauty, leaving his emotions, for the first time, unguarded.
"It's for royalty. And we are royalty. There's nothing I couldn't give you. There's nothing I'd deny you if you would deny me."
And what he said net sent a chill down Judy's spine as he wrapped his arms around her waist.
"Open your heart to me, Judy."
"Of course, his gift was only to reflect light back onto himself, to illuminate the greatness that was James Crystal. To me it was a collar with an invisible leash, at its center a cold stone... a heart of ice."