"Is that even possible…?" I muttered. If it was a trick, then I was dead if I opened the door. If it really was Nick, though…Oh, how I hoped.

Screeee…...Darn thing needs to be oiled. I haven't opened it in years. It slowly swung out and open, and in flopped…

An arctic wolf?

"What the hey? Who are you, and how do you have Nick's voice?" I said, aiming my rifle at the strange creature's head."

"Judy, ease up on that hammer, would you?"

"How do you know my name? How did you find me?"

"Well, Mrs. Wilde, you're in my basement. Besides that, look at my hand, would you?"

I did, and on it was my ring. "Where did you get that? Did you pick over Nick's corpse in the morgue, you creep? And...wait a sec- your basement?"

"1955 Cypress Grove Lane-yes, this is my basement. And yes, I am Nick, Carrots. Goodness gracious, this fur dye is annoying."

"I still don't believe you. Now, get the heck out," I said, firing a bullet at his feet. "Move it, before I make such a ruckus that you'll get arrested."

"I wouldn't do that," he said.

"Oh, then what would you do?"

When he didn't respond, I slapped him across the face as hard as I could. "Answer me now, or the next one goes through your brain, wolfie."

"What is it going to take to convince you? Huh? I thought you missed me, so what are you doing trying to kill me?"

"I'm not trying to kill Nick Wilde, I'm trying to kill you."

"For the last time, we're the same. Look, the first time we met, I tricked you into buying me a Jumbopop, remember? You couldn't believe how I'd tricked you, and you couldn't believe how you were standing in wet cement by the end of it all either."

That next day, you came across me again, booted my stroller, and blackmailed me into coming along with you. Either that, or you were going to have me arrested for tax evasion. I saw no choice but to come, I mean, I was a regular at the local cop shop- Precinct 13, Happytown. Why Bogo decided to look that over is beyond me, but I know one thing: you know you love me. Now, can you point that gun somewhere else, please? I've been shot and shot at more times in the last three years than I can count.

Do you believe me now, Judith Laverne Hopps? Or am I going to need to provide even more evidence that I am your foxy beau?"

"Nick...how?"

"Sit down, Judy, it's a long story."

"Not until you come in and bolt that door behind you. With all the guards on the street, do you have any idea just how dangerous what you're doing is?"

"Geez, Judy, relax, would you?"

"Close the Karma-forsaken door, then I will. Close it!"

"Fine, fine."

SCREECH…

"That thing really needs some oiling, wouldn't you say?"

"Not if the last time I left this place was over two years ago."

"How did you survive that long?" Then he slapped himself on the forehead. "Oh, right."

"You are one heck of a doomsday prepper, Nicholas Wilde."

"Yeah, well, it helped you survive, didn't it?" he asked. "Now, you wanted a story? I'll give you a story."

Bunker ZT-NPW

Happytown, Zootopia: 1955 Cypress Grove Lane

March 7, 2016

Judy's said it before, and I don't know if I'll ever hear it again- those five words that I said to her on our first day as partners: "You know you love me." Believe me, those words are all I'm running on right now.

I don't know what hurts me more right about now- the shocks from my collar that run through me every ten minutes like clockwork or the bullet holes through my abdomen. That rabbit Savage killed me- he gave the order; he killed me again with lead ninheteen days later. Then, when he decided not to kill me, he was too late. I was lying in the prison yard in a bloody heap.

So here's a few words to the wise- there's a reason they call him Savage. The guy has the largest stockpile of Night Howler the world has ever seen. Bellwether got her idea from him, only he wasn't using the stuff to make people savage. No, when given in tiny doses, it's one heck of a pick-me-up, and apparently it works rather well on heart attack victims. It also works rather well on dead foxes.

Dead foxes? Does that mean I'm a zombie? Sure, you could think of it that way, but I'd really prefer not to. I hate zombies- hate them, hate them, hate them. Any time I'd watch a zombie movie with my dad, I'd have nightmares for weeks after.

So that was Problem One solved. Nick Wilde was back in commission. Now it was time for Problem Two- Judy. I wanted to get back to her as soon as possible, but since he just had to be a pain, Savage said no. "No, Nicholas, you can't just go barging on into the prison- everyone thinks you're dead, well, all except Wolford. This was his idea."

Since you're going to ask- I can see it-yes, I knew you weren't going to die. I didn't want you to, you have to believe me here- I needed you out of the way. Bellwether's plotting something, and I, along with the rest of the ZIA, are powerless to stop it. That's why we need you. We have a plan- Project Firefox. All we need is the firefox- that would be you, Nick. Are you willing to take up the challenge? Be warned- it very well could be deadly. As for the firefox, well, if you want to know what that is, you'll have to join us. Think carefully, Nicholas. It is your choice, and only your choice, but know this- if you don't agree, Zootopia will fall. Think carefully, and I hope you'll make the right decision."

Then he left, leaving me with a decision that I didn't want to make, but also with the hope of seeing Judy again.