The café air hung heavy with the smell of coffee and food. Nick and Judy sat opposite of the manager of the café, a curvy and decidedly nervous-looking pig by the name of Rachel Schwein. She wrung her hooves together as Judy pressed her.

"There's no need for you to be nervous, Ma'am," Judy said soothingly, she typically took up the slack as the 'good cop'. "No one's accusing you of anything, we just want to know if you heard anything last night, or saw anything or anyone suspicious yesterday."

"I know, I know…" Rachel said, sipping her coffee from a trembling hoof. "It's just…things have been so tense since all that business with the Predators that went savage and the, uh, the cause of it. My old neighborhood practically fell apart, no one trusted anyone anymore. And even after the Predators were proven innocent, people still feared them and they felt betrayed. It's why I moved here to Savannah Central, it felt safer. But now this happens!"

"We have no reason to believe that this crime was species-motivated." Judy reached across the table and patted her hoof. "But I understand. It's not easy watching things change. But we have to try and heal the rift between Predators and Prey, and that's going take trust. Do you trust us to do our best to find these perpetrators?"

Rachel nodded and smiled, her eyes darting to Nick and back to Judy. "Yes. Of course, Detective Hopps; my girls have followed every one of your cases, you're something of a hero to them."

Judy smiled radiantly. "Well, we won't let them down, will we, Detective Wilde?"

"Of course not," Nick said, with a smirk, as he sipped his tea. "This green tea is excellent, by the way."

"Thank you, Detective," Rachel said, warmly. "I'm sorry I couldn't be of more help. I didn't see or hear anything, that's why I'm so shaken by this."

"Well, thank you for your time, Mrs. Schwein. If you remember anything, give us a call," Judy said as she handed her a card.

Rachel took the card and pocketed it, calling out to them as they left. "Detectives! Would you mind, er, taking a picture with me? It'd be something to put on the wall, and my friends probably wouldn't believe that WildeHopps was here!"

"There's that name again," Judy whispered out the corner of her mouth. "How long have people been calling us that?"

"Like, a while," Nick whispered back. "You seriously never heard it before today? Go get your photo-op over with, it looks like there's a commotion outside."

Judy walked over to Mrs. Schwein, the pig looked confused for a moment as Nick continued to gaze out the window at the disruption. "Err…Detective Wilde? Are you coming?"

Nick blinked in surprise; he could believe a Prey wanting to take a selfie with Judy, but him? "Oh, uh, sorry, I just thought…"

"Come on!" Judy said, waving him over. "It's not WildeHopps without the Wilde."

Nick rallied quickly, posing next to Rachel as Judy huddled in close, a happy grin on her face. Rachel handed him her phone and he held it out, smiling winsomely.

"Oh, you're barely in it, Detective Wilde!" Rachel said, wryly. "Get in here!"

Rachel pulled herself into Nick, practically grinding her plump hip into his lap; he barely suppressed a squeak when he felt her give his rump a hearty squeeze. Judy pulled in close as well and said: "Say 'cheese and crackers'!"

"Cheese and crackers!"

The picture turned out surprisingly well; Nick was relieved to see that his poker face had held, as he was his usual naturally handsome and photogenic self in the picture.

"Perfect!" Rachel squealed in delight. "Oh, the girls will be so jealous! Thank you, Detectives!"

"Don't mention it," Nick replied flatly as he walked out the door, the bell rang as he did.

"Come back anytime!"

"We will!" Judy followed after him, a huge, smug grin on her face as she pulled up alongside.

"Shut up," Nick said glibly as he flicked out his aviators and put them on.

"I didn't say anything," Judy replied, still smiling; it wasn't often that she saw her partner flustered.

"Shut up."

Judy and Nick closed on the commotion; two patrol cops were exchanging heated words with a leopard dressed in what appeared to be a ratty, tattered play costume.

"Holy…Judy, what's the date today?" Nick said, picking up the pace.

"July third. Why?" she answered, matching his speed.

"It's our old pal Shakespeare, Carrots," Nick said, amused. "He's always in Savannah Central this time of year. Something about the moon."

"Shakespeare? Your 'acting coach'?" Judy said, recalling the superlative job Nick did in fooling Bellwether; in a way, they owed him their lives. "Well, we'd better help him out, then."

"Good idea," Nick said fondly. "Crazier than a shithouse rat, but I'll be damned if he doesn't play a good Richard III."

As they walked away, a small antelope peered nervously from behind a garbage can, his large amber eyes, wide with terror, were trained intently on them. He gave an askance glance in either direction, ensuring the coast was clear, and in a few short bounds the tiny antelope, also known as a dik-dik, crossed the street and pushed his way into the café.

"Excuse me, ma'am," he said, perfectly masking his nervousness as he bumped into Mrs. Schwein.

The pig snorted in surprise. "Oh! I'm sorry!"

"S'nothing," he said, planting himself at one of the smaller chairs. "Gong-show out there, eh? Cops all over the place!"

"I know!" Rachel said, readying her notepad for his order. "I just don't know what this neighborhood is coming to!"

"Well, wasn't that Judy Hopps out there?" The dik-dik asked. "She'll sort this out, eh?"

"Her and her dishy partner!" Rachel giggled. "We need more cops like them if Zootopia's going to get back on track. What's your name, hon? For your order."

"Richard Richardson," Richard said with a smile, sliding Judy's stolen calling card into his pocket. "And yeah…they've got a tough job ahead of them. I hope they're up to it."

"Sir, what are you doing with a…" The Wolf Officer asked, holding up a bleached skull, turning to his partner. "Cougar?"

His partner, a hippo, nodded. "Cougar."

"With a cougar skull?" He resumed, turning back to the incensed leopard, who was dressed in matted, dusty pantaloons and a tattered, stained silk vest.

"Ah, but that is none other than Yorrick, good sir! Jester to King Hamlet himself!" Shakespeare said with a trilling, dramatic voice. "Alas, poor Yorrick! I knew him, Horatio!"

"Uh-huh," the Hippo Cop intoned. "Yeah, okay, but where'd you get it?"

Shakespeare scoffed and gestured broadly. "Yonder graveyard, of course!"

"Okay, that's it," the Wolf Cop said. "We're taking you in, Mr. Theater."

"On what charges, O gaoler of the arts?!"

"Obstruction of justice, vagrancy, and illegal possession of mammalian remains." The Hippo Cop moved in on his side, grabbing him by the shoulder. "You have the right to remain silent, so, please do."

"Vagrancy?! I'll have you know, sir, that I am an actor! A performer and conveyor of works of the Bard of Avon himself!" Shakespeare spat as they apprehended him. "Unhand me, you oafs! You philistines! I desire us to be better strangers! Thou and thine mothers hast the most unpleasant of similes!"

"What appears to be the problem, officers?" Judy said smoothly as they approached, sure to brandish her detective's badge.

The Wolf Cop cleared his throat and stepped forward. "Well, ma'am, just apprehending this suspect. We came over to ask him if he had seen anything last night and he let slip that he had spent the night in the park across the street, so that's vagrancy. Suspect then became belligerent, that's an obstruction of justice, and a further search revealed that he had mammal remains in his possession. We're taking him in for–"

"Good job, Officers, that'll be all," Nick interrupted, patting Shakespeare on the shoulder. "We'll take the interview from here, thank you."

The two turned back to Judy, who made a shooing gesture. "You did good. Thank you."

The Hippo and Wolf exchanged confused and annoyed looks, but ambled away regardless, heading back to the perimeter. Shakespeare spat and bit his thumb at them as they left.

Nick waited until the cops were well away before turning back to Shakespeare. "Shaky-baby, what's good?"

"Nicholas! My boon companion!" Shakespeare cheered, clapping him on the back. "O but the downtrodden, the wretched, and the chiefest recipients of woe are made proud, jocund, and fortunate in the presence of friends! Truly, it is mammals such as yourself that inspired the Bard to breathe life into the clever Prince Hamlet, the noble Othello, and the wise Prospero!"

Nick wiggled his eyebrows at Judy, getting a giggle from her. "I always thought of myself as a Falstaff or a Mercutio, maybe an Iago on a bad day."

Shakespeare laughed and turned to Judy, bowing deeply. "And the Lady Hopps! The cheer and amiable disposition of a forest nymph with the beauty and poise worthy of a whole bible of sonnets! Pray tell, fair maid, how may this sotted old stage-tapper be of service?"

Judy withstood the torrent of praise with a humble bow. "Shakespeare, you're too kind. But yes, Detective Wilde and I were wondering if you happened to hear or see anything related to the break-in last night. I hear you were in the park around that time?"

Shakespeare nodded gravely, his ears flickering down as he recalled. "Yea, and lo I did witness the foul act of vandalism."

"Vandalism?" Judy pressed. "You mean the break-in?"

The leopard shook his head. "Nay! Verily, it was a action worthy those sackers of Rome, the Vandals and their creed live on in such willful destruction!"

Nick took a seat on a bench and patted the spot next to him. "What did you see, Shaky?"

"First, I must establish the setting!" Shakespeare leapt up onto the bench, hand out and over his head as he gestured at the sky, while also adroitly tossing a wide-brimmed hat onto the ground. He spoke, his voice strong and stentorian: "'Twas a clear night and the moon hung high in the sky, round and turgid as though fit to burst in a wash of platinum light! I, like many of my ilk, feel a strong bond towards this softer, gentler celestial body, her cold luminance and full figure pulled at me, bidding the passion within me to brim forth with which to woo her!" As Judy jotted down notes she heard a metallic clink from behind and turned around to see a small crowd of pedestrians, someone had tossed a handful of coins into the hat.

"In my ardor, inspired thus by my silver mistress, I broke out a copy of A Midsummer Night's Dream and read aloud. Ah! Reading such divine comedy beneath a Savannah moon's light in the titular season is pleasure so rarely pursued! It was only when my fair lady resumed her eternal journey towards the horizon that I heard it! The sharp, icy sound of shattering glass, the clatter of an endless multitude of shimmering shards, and the clamor of shod feet!" Several more handfuls fell into the donation hat, a member of the audience began to shovel popcorn into his mouth.

"I turned in time to see a small figure, I could make out naught of their features despite the moon's assistance and my crepuscular heritage, for they were clad head to toe in textured black garments! They were small and dainty, whoever they were, but sleek and fast as they sped down the dim road. They were readily pursued by a duo of larger, burlier, and similarly vague silhouettes that join'd the street through unlatched door, but they were hopelessly outmatched by the vandal's fleetness! A heated debate ensued, and the two brutes hurried back inside. And that, good friends and venerable constabulary, is all that I saw of the crime."

A round of applause rose from the crowd and Shakespeare bowed deeply; Nick turned to Judy with a questioning eyebrow. Judy waved her notepad at him and shot him a chiding look, 'of course I got it all'. "Well, Shaky, I see you've gathered an audience, as usual. I'll leave you to your good work. Thanks for all your help."

"Detective Wilde! Detective Hopps! I bid thee farewell! I know as the sparrow knows the air, as the fish knows the ocean, as the sun and earth do surely spin that you will get to the bottom of this mystery. I bid you good day!" Shakespeare made off towards the park and his portable stage, followed by an assortment of intrigued mammals.

"Zootopia's a livelier place with people like Shakespeare in it," Judy said fondly.

"His testimony might as well be about dragons for all the good it'll do as evidence, though," Nick said solemnly. "I trust him, but no court ever would. But we're ahead of where we were five minutes ago, at least."

"We know that one of the burglars broke the window between one and two in the morning, when the moon is waning, and that they appeared to already have access to the building when the window was broken," Judy said, consulting her notepad. "And our guess about the fur-nets is confirmed."

"And that the door was unlocked, with no alarm, and there were at least two larger accomplices." Nick grunted and shrugged. "Well, let's get back to the precinct and hit up those security logs. Then we put our case together and start sweeping for the stolen goods."

"Why, Mr. Wilde! I dare say that sounded borderline professional of you!" Judy exclaimed with faux-revelation.

"Bite your tongue," Nick retorted. "You'll go and give people all the wrong ideas."

It was later that night and Elim cracked a Tusker Lager and plopped himself down on the couch, the cheap springs squeaked and protested as he did. He sipped the light, malty beverage as he searched the Internet on his phone, trying his best to ignore the occasional grunt of effort that came from the far side of the room.

"15…16…17…" Finn counted, sitting on the bar as it rose and fell. "Why you doing this? I've seen you bench twice this much and you're sticking with this baby-wipes stuff?"

"Not…about…weight," Grigori growled through gritted teeth, notching the laden barbell on the stand once he hit 20. "It's about strength. I don't need to bench 400 five or six times. I need to press 200 as much in a row as I have to."

"Yeah, well, I still say all this gym stuff is for the birds," Finn snorted. "You're risking natural speed for fake power, and that never ends well."

"Speed is for the weak," Grigori scoffed, getting under the barbell again. "Like claws and fangs. Only when you beat your opponent do you truly defeat him. With claws and teeth, you might get lucky and hit and artery and it's over; with fists and grapples, you must first truly best your enemy and bloody your hands."

"Personally, I prefer the blood in my mouth, where I can taste it."

The lynx snorted and started hoisting anew. "That's because you're a psychopath."

"Better a psycho than a de-clawed, fangless kitten!" Finn snapped back.

Grigori growled and notched the barbell, swiping at the agile ferret. "Little shit! I'll wring out your guts like you're a big-mouthed icing bag!"

"Try it, powder-paws!" Finn hissed, dodging his swipes with aplomb. "I'll gnaw open your throat and crawl inside your lungs before–"

"Dammit!" Elim roared, hurling his beer across the room, where it exploded across the concrete wall in a shower of glass and foam. "Dammit! Dammit! Dammit!"

"What's the rumpus, Elim?" Finn said, unaffected by his outburst.

"Hold on!" Elim seethed, sending the link to their phones. "Found this while trying to keep tabs on the Rikko Case. Read from the top!"

Finn and Grigori opened the link, before them was a pleasingly laid-out blog, with various symbols of mammalian solidarity and Zootopian ideals. The blog title, in bold black and white text, read Daily Badgering, and the article read thus:

Outrage! Vandalism! A crime to eclipse the combined heinousness of the proto-fascist Leodore-Bellwether administration!

…

Well, not really. Earlier last night in Savannah Central, a troupe of thugs broke into the Rikko Electronics Warehouse and Sale. The theft was significant, sources claim in excess of ten thousand dollars, and the crime itself was unusually sophisticated in its execution. Regardless, it would seem that our two-faced friends in the media would like us to think that this incident is of no concern were it not for two very important factors: Detective(!) WildeHopps (#WildeHopps4life)!

Yes, Zootopia's star team is back on the streets with shiny new badges and a dirty new case! 'But Honey!' you say. 'What could this case possibly be, besides a common-as-dirt B'n'E?' Well, I ask you to look no further than the dynamic duo's decidedly colorful resume.

A missing mammals case: Corruption in city hall, illegal kidnapping, and a Prey-Supremacist conspiracy (which a certain someone *cough*Honey B *cough* totally called, BTW)

A speeding sloth: Dangerous, corrupt, and brutal underground racing rings in the Nocturnal District

An urban legend: Actual giant cockroaches! A genetically engineered foodstuff bred and unleashed by a jilted scientist!

A brutal mob war: Well, it actually was a brutal mob war. But funded clandestinely by Reptilian gangsters!

A bog-standard arrest for public intoxication: Drug ring bust.

And, last but not least:

A calm, mild-mannered antelope taxi-driver with a few outstanding tickets: None other than the dreaded vigilante known as The Shearer, bearing the souls, flesh, and wrong-doings of his victims to all!

Notice a pattern yet? If you've been with me from the get-go, then you know full well what I'm getting at! Anyone with even basic pattern recognition can see that every time WildeHopps has bumped into a case it has exploded into a massive, horrifying conspiracy! The first two or, say, five times it happened, pssh, yeah it's just a coincidence, but six ?!

What, exactly, aren't the ZPD telling us about this case? Why assign WildeHopps to something so mundane? Just where can I find one of these marked down street-TVs I've been hearing about? Only time will tell, I'm afraid, but yours truly will be digging, and no amount of hissing or gnashing of teeth from the powers that be will dissuade this reporter of that most vital resource: the truth!

Now, let's discuss the new uniforms on our favorite duo. As detectives, they have been freed of their blue slacks and are now open for a more casual mien, and might I add that this is paying major dividends for the bouncier half of the team.

" 'With a tight pair of corduroy pants, a tastefully unbuttoned purple top with rolled up sleeves, and a pair of charmingly aloof sunglasses, our grey law-bunny is looking good. The ensemble…' Ugh." Finn grimaced as he flicked through the article. "It goes on like this for pages."

"So," Grigori grunted. "What's the big problem? It's shit written by an idiot on the Internet. Like saying, 'ugh, that spit bubble in a bucket of spit is especially gross'!"

Elim shook his head and sighed. "Look at the views! It's shit, yeah, but it's popular shit!"

Finn looked at the page view counter for that article alone and gave an impressed whistle. "Nearly six digits in, what, five hours? I think we're in the wrong business, Kitten."

"Call me 'kitten' one more time," Grigori growled.

"Kitten," Finn grinned a toothy grin.

The two moved to launch at each other when Elim stomped his foot on the ground. "Dammit, guys! This is fucking serious! This article is going to get millions of views, millions of extra eyes looking where they shouldn't be! Media attention! This is a big deal!" Elim turned away from them and rubbed his temples, breathing deeply through his nose as his mind raced through his options. He rallied and smiled. "No…it's no biggie. Well, yes, it is, but it's a small biggie. A biggie smalls."

"'Throw your hands in the air, if youse a true player.'" Grigori and Finn droned in unison, pumping their hands in the air.

Elim ignored them and got out his phone. "I'm gonna have to call the Boss."

Finn and Grigori's faces dropped and they became silent, the muted sound of the phone ringing echoed throughout the room.

Someone picked up, the voice was rough and metallic, obscured behind a modulator. "Since when do you call me, Elim?"

Elim looked nervous, but his voice was strong and steady. "It's an emergency."

"I'll say," Boss responded, even through the modulator the frustration was clear. "Did you read Honey B's new magnum opus? We don't need this kind of attention, Elim. What happened?"

"Dick–uh, Mr. Richardson had some…reservations about the job," Elim ran his hand through the crest of fur atop his head. "And he felt that a brick was the best way to convey them. He got away."

"Never mind him!" Boss snapped. "Why steal the merchandise?"

"To throw them off our trail. If they thought it was just a robbery, they'd focus more on the stolen goods than the warehouse itself, while also keeping it clear of busybodies as a crime scene."

"Hm. Clever." Boss paused. "We'll see soon enough if it's too clever by half. What do you propose?"

Elim gulped and cleared his throat. "Our driver, the one that the rental truck is registered to, can he be bought?"

"He already is," Boss said, glibly. "A patsy? Elim, how fiendish."

"Yeah, well, I figure City Hall will want this one shut down fast after that article hits the wind. We need him to go around selling the merch like an idiot, get pinched, and cop to the whole thing. Can you get him to do that?"

"Elim, my boy, if I say 'jump' he says 'off which bridge?'" Boss said with a decidedly disconcerting chuckle. "He'll do it."

"That's why you're the boss, Boss," Elim said, mustering a final measure of courage. "And we need one more thing."

"You want more? Careful now, my boy; I like you, but don't go thinking I'm Santa Claws." Boss rasped. "What is it?"

"Richardson is still out there, Boss," Elim said, clenching his fist. "He knows too much, hell, he knows everything! When we try to get this case closed he'll come forward. He'll come forward because he knows we'll be after him and he'll go to the Fuzz for protection. He knows that the only way he'll be safe is if we're all behind bars, or dead."

"I'll get some people to find him, then," Boss said flatly, clearly unimpressed.

"Richardson can disappear, sir." Elim pressed on. "He can get gone and stay gone for a good long while, but he'll try to sell us out first, it's his way. I know who he'll try to contact, either Detective Hopps or Detective Wilde, and I need an ear on the police line so we can get to him first."

Boss considered this for a second, no doubt reviewing Richard Richardson's impressive resume in their head. "That won't be easy. But I'll see what I can do."

"Thank you, sir," Elim said, breathing a sigh of relief.

"Clever boy, so clever," Boss crooned. "There's a place in my organization for people who get things done, Elim. Don't disappoint me."

"I won't, sir. Thank you, sir."

With that, the line went dead.

After a pause, Grigori spoke up. "So?"

Elim smiled and exhaled, feeling as though he had not taken a breath in years. "Boss is on it. The case should be wrapped up in a few days. Bing-boom, no more WildeHopps, and we can get on with our job."

"WildeHopps," Finn scoffed. "Sounds like a fancy pub."

"Yeah," Grigori agreed. "One that sells a bunch of craft beers and microbrews."

Finn nodded. "With some seasonal options and local brands to pad out the holiday rushes."

"Maybe even a decent international selection?" Elim opined, deeply regretting hurling his last Tusker at the wall.

All three murmured in agreement, a lull passed until Elim spoke up. "You guys wanna go grab a beer?"

Finn smirked and nodded. "I could drink."

"I've been having carb-cravings all day," Grigori said. "I'd kill a Guinness or four."

Judy slumped over at her desk, massaging her sore eyes with her fingers, detective work required a lot more staring at screens than one would assume. She felt as though her eyes were trying desperately to look at one another, or at either side of the room, or anywhere that didn't have an obnoxious glowing screen in it. Despite this, she felt exultant; she had unearthed even more info with which to build their case. Security logs and documents were so much easier to acquire with her new clearance; she didn't have to threaten or bribe anyone at all…yet.

"Nick, do you have those print-outs?" Judy called tiredly.

"Right here, Carrots," Nick said, sounding just as worn-down as her. "You heading out?"

"Yeah, I'd say we've scrounged up just about everything we can until any matches on the merch comes up." Judy stretched and sighed. "Want to head back to my place and give the case a once over?"

"Is that Judy-Talk for 'hey, Nick, wanna hang out'?" he said as he stacked all the papers and pushed them into his briefcase.

"…Yes." Judy smiled as she prepared to leave. "Besides, I've got a little surprise for you~"

Nick blinked and looked over at her, a sly smile on her face. There was something in her eyes that he couldn't quite place. "Well…when you put it like that, what are we waiting for?"

They packed up their things and padded tiredly through the foyer, their overcoats slung over their shoulders in the still-hot July air. Behind the reception desk was Ben Clawhauser, briskly sorting through dozens of files, appointments, and to-do assignments.

His plump face lit up when he saw them, his infectious grin beaming. "Ah! Nick! Judy! Finally heading out, huh?"

"Yeah, Claw," Nick replied. "Leaving work to go work some more. Carrots is on a roll."

"Oh?" Clawhauser's face lit up even more. "Gonna spend some quality time together?"

Nick scoffed and rolled his eyes. "Gee, Ben! Talk like that could see a dozen plain donuts on your desk tomorrow."

Clawhauser's smile vanished, his ears laid flat against his skull. "You wouldn't!"

"I would," Nick smiled menacingly. "And you and I know full well that you'd still eat 'em…eventually. Joylessly, but eventually."

"I take it back!" Clawhauser proclaimed. "I hope you and Detective Hopps have fun on your totally professional case review."

"My man!" Nick laughed and snapped his fingers. "I guess variety packs are the best deal, when you get right down to it. See you tomorrow, Claw!"

Clawhauser waved goodbye, squealing happily to himself once they were out of earshot. "Those two are soooo cute!"

The door to Judy's flat swung open and Nick stepped in, a look of distaste on his face. "I never get used to how itty-bitty this place is. It's like a broom closet."

"I don't mind," Judy said as she squeezed past him. "It's not much smaller than my room back in Bunnyburrow."

"What's rent?" Nick said, spreading his arms, noting that the span was almost the width of the room. "Or do they pay you to live here? Whatever it is, it's not enough."

Judy sighed and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Homes and Gardens. Help me set up the corkboard."

From their suitcases they produced the relevant documents and set them up on the large corkboard that took up much of the opposite wall. Inventory lists, confirmed missing goods, and security logs festooned the wall alongside pictures of the crime scene and forensic reports. Judy and Nick sat next to each other on the bed, laser pointers in hand.

"Alright," Judy began. "The rundown: the initial break-in is believed to have occurred some time between midnight and one in the morning. Of course, we can only guess because after reviewing the security logs we found that the entire security system had been down due to a bug. A week prior, Rikko had reported said issues to Maxbell Security, the installer and maintainer of their security systems. This means that cameras, window, and door sensors were down during the robbery. Coincidence?"

"Could be anything," Nick said, pointing at the assembled mug shots of the owner and employees. "For instance, say any of these chuckleheads is frustrated and heads out to the bar where, after a few drinks, they let fly that the security system is totally bunged." Nick scratched his chin, pointing at the Maxbell Security business card they had taken from the Rikko manager. "Or…the crooks have an inside mammal at the company and took advantage of a backdoor in the programming. Either way, it doesn't change the fact that our boys quite literally walked in through the front door."

Judy rubbed her temples and pointed at the mug shot of Shakespeare. "So, if Shaky's testimony is accurate–"

"He only overacts when he's Lear," Nick said, somewhat defensively. "If he saw someone in a fur-net put a brick through a window, then he did."

"But why?" Judy exclaimed. "If they were wearing a fur-net, then they were part of the job. Why break a window if they were already in the building?"

"Maybe they had a disagreement on how to split the cash, maybe they're the type that likes to break things, maybe anything!" Nick said, gesturing flippantly. "Makes about as much sense as anything else in this case! …It's way too hot for this crap. Don't you have AC?"

Judy chuckled and opened the window. "Ta-da!"

"Will the wonders ever cease?" Nick snarked, unbuttoning the top of his shirt an air himself out. "We're not even near Sahara Square, for God's sake!"

"I know what'll cool you down!" Judy exclaimed happily, bouncing over to the fridge. "Your surprise!"

Judy cracked the little fridge and bent over to grab something from inside, Nick's ear perked up at the view as his eyes were drawn down.

'Yep…' he thought to himself, 'Still there. You give it a check every day and it hasn't gone anywhere yet. Okay, stopping in three…two…one and half…one and a quarter…are those corduroys?'

Judy spun around; in her hands were two small black bottles, Nick's eyes darted up just in time. "Here we go! I got these to celebrate our promotion!"

Nick took a bottle, it was small, maybe a quarter-pint, but it felt wonderfully cold in his hand. "What is it?"

"Blueberry ale," Jud said, cracking the cap and taking a sip. "I got some from my dad when I visited over the holidays."

Nick pressed the cold bottle against his neck and sighed, savoring the cold. "Blueberry beer? Whoda thunk it?"

"Bunnies, obviously," Judy said, offering her bottle for a toast.

Nick capped his bottle and clinked it against hers, taking a swig. The beer was light and cold and refreshing, with mild bitter notes and a crisp finish. The real star was the blueberry flavoring, unsweetened and barely present on the tongue, a pleasant aftertaste that rose into the nostrils after each sip. Nick smacked his lips together and smiled. "I'm gonna have to rethink my stance on the subject of dumb bunnies! Does your dad make this?"

"No, that'd be our neighbor. But dad supplies most of the raw materials. When I told him how much you liked our blueberries he bought a huge amount of the stuff and sent some back with me to share."

Sufficiently refreshed, Nick and Judy resumed their discussion on the case, but found that they were hitting wall after wall; there just wasn't enough evidence. So, naturally, the conversation drifted away from work and into their personal lives.

"Well, I think your standards are too high," Nick said, finishing his forth blueberry ale, the bottles were rabbit-sized, after all. "That said, most relationships that start with an autograph tend to run down the same road, if you know what I mean."

Judy groaned and lay back on her bed. "Bluh! Guys are either intimidated or awestruck; no one ever approaches me for me! So what if I've solved a few crimes? How does that make me this big scary person?"

"Right?" Nick said, lying next to her. "I mean, back in Bunnyburrow I bet all your boyfriends had to get to know you before getting scared off, but now they're terrified right from the get-go!"

"Shut up!" Judy laughed, bopping him with a pillow. "How about you? Any lady-types living the Wilde-life?"

"No," he said glibly.

Judy took this short response to mean 'don't go down that rabbit hole, Carrots,' and noticed the empty bottle in his hands. "Get you another?"

Nick upended the empty bottle over his mouth, catching the few stray drops still inside. "I don't want to drink all of your beer, Jude."

Judy scoffed and reached under the bed, pulling out a palette of bottles. "In Bunnyburrow, even microbreweries sell by the skid. If anything, I'd like some help, seeing as how you can knock 'em back like they're nothing."

"They are nothing," Nick said, holding up the small empty bottle. "Tiny, little bottles of tasty nothing. Sure, I'll have another one or four."

Judy got two more out of the fridge, she wasn't even trying to keep up with Nick, trying to outdrink someone four times your weight was sure end poorly, besides, she was already feeling the effects of her two. She tossed him his bottle, which he caught in a flash of Predator reflexes. He wasted no time capping it and taking a swig.

"Ahhh…" Nick said, just starting to go from pleasantly buzzed to happily drunk. "Your dad is insidious."

Judy laughed and cracked her bottle. "In the list of adjectives I'd used to describe Stewart Hopps, 'insidious' is definitely near the bottom."

Nick sat up and gestured at the bottle. "I'm serious! He must be some kind of criminal mastermind! Sending his pretty daughter out here to push free samples of this highly addictive product onto a poor and unsuspecting officer of the ZPD! He knows I'll need more, and soon. Just you wait; he'll be calling me up for favors, info, the works; it's all part of his master plan!"

Judy giggled and sat down next to him, tapping her blunt claws on the glass bottle. "Hey, Nick."

"Hey, Judy."

"I'm going to be taking a week off in September to see my family, help with the harvest, you know, that sort of thing." Judy cleared her throat; suddenly feeling flushed and distracted, was the room getting hotter? "You, uh, you want to…tag along?"

Nick turned to her, a smile pulling at the sides of his mouth. "Finally introducing your boyfriend to the parents, eh?"

"Shut up!" Judy said, punching him in the shoulder. "You already met my parents, Dumb Fox!"

"Oh, yeah," Nick said, thinking back to the Gazelle concert and the nice dinner they had after; Judy's mom would not stop looking at his teeth.

"And I don't need any of that talk from you of all people, Mr. Wilde!" Judy said with indignation, preparing to take a hefty swig from her bottle. "I get enough of that at the precinct, thank you very much!"

"Right?" Nick said sourly. "Every day a different person is asking me how deep the rabbit hole goes!"

Judy let out a choked sound and lurched forward, clasping her hand over her lips as her mouthful of beer threatened to spray out. Judy willed her self to swallow it and loosed a racking sputtering cough that soon transformed into hearty laughter. Nick chuckled bemusedly, a perplexed look on his face as her laughter soon became mirthful howls.

"Yeah, see?" Nick said as he patted her on the back, beginning to chuckle alongside her, "Every day they come at me with material like that, I just can't keep up!"

"Oh! Oh, man!" Judy gasped, still giggling. "I almost died! Holy moly! Oh, you think you have it bad? The girls just will not let up on it! There's probably a betting pool or something."

"I dunno." Nick shrugged and took another sip. "The guys bust my fuzzies pretty hard. At least I can shut Clawhauser up with a box of donuts."

Judy shot him an unimpressed look. "Okay, you want to take it out and measure? Remember when all the girls on the force took me out for a birthday party?"

Nick nodded. "Yeah, that was pretty sweet of them."

"It was," she agreed fondly, her expression quickly shifting to exacerbation. "But then I started opening the presents. Most of them were kind, thoughtful, even really nice, like Francine got me this really cute ensemble that I've worn out a few times…" Judy felt herself getting off track, a flush building in her ears; she suddenly realized what she was about to tell Nick.

"And?" Nick pressed, noticing the deepening red color of her ears.

Judy took a few hefty pulls of blueberry ale and continued. "But then, I got a present that they 'all went in on' and, well…it was a toy. A fox toy."

Nick blinked in confusion, scanning the bed top and room for a little facsimile of a fox. "Like, a plushie or something?"

Judy felt her ears flush anew, not looking at him. "No."

"Oh." Nick scanned her face, thinking for a moment when the answer came to him. His eyes went wide and his ears bolted upright. "Oh…"

"Yeah," Judy replied. "Had a little nametag and everything. Guess what it said!"

Nick snorted a laugh and slapped his knee. "Well! You win! Maybe the guys aren't that bad!"

"Judy Hopps: Queen of Workplace Harassment," she said, doing a faux victory dance.

"Did you–" Nick began to say before catching himself at the last moment; suddenly aware of how much he had had to drink.

'Did I what?' Judy thought to herself in the split second it took for her partner to rephrase. 'Did I keep it?'

Nick feigned a cough, making it seem as though that was the cause of his interrupted question. "Excuse me. Had a thing in my throat."

'Like your foot?' Judy thought to herself, smiling.

"Did you, uh, tell them off or anything?" Nick said insincerely. "I mean that's pretty inappropriate."

'Smooth, Nick. Real smooth,' they both thought, sarcastically.

"Pssh! No!" Judy scoffed, waving her hand dismissively. "It was all in good fun! Besides, I couldn't take that thing seriously! It was ridiculous! I mean, how is anyone supposed to even use something like that?"

Nick smirked and cleared his throat. "I think we better change the subject before someone's feelings get hurt."

"Agreed. Any ideas?"

Nick scanned the room, his eyes darting around until he saw what was sitting under her TV: an old gaming console. "Hold on…is that an 86-X? I had a friend who owned one when I was a teenager. I'd go over to his house all the time and whup his lily-haunch at fighting games!"

"What was your favorite one?" Judy said, a smile spreading across her face.

"Fatal Fight V: Fangs Forever!" they said in unison, cheering and high-fiving each other.

"Well?" Judy said. "Hook it up!"

Nick nodded and hopped off the bed, getting on his hands and knees to connect the ancient console to the television. Judy's ears perked up and reddened as she admired the view.

'Yep…' she thought to herself, 'Still there.'