Chapter Five, "Be All You Can Be"

Judy wasn't afraid of the Chief, absolutely not. But she did have some healthy guarded apprehension about the authority he represented. He was noble enough of a guy to acknowledge (in his own stoic way) a job well done by one of his charges, but that also meant he wouldn't hesitate to reprimand an officer who made a mistake, regardless of any favor they may have previously curried with him. After all, this was the same guy who'd had no qualms about firing all the officers who'd behaved even remotely inappropriately during the protests last summer, even past the point when many folks on the Force expressed that perhaps he should have mellowed out a bit - not for any moral reasons but out of a strict sense of practicality as some precincts quickly found themselves short-staffed, a problem "solved" by reassigning officers from precincts with warm bodies to spare to new wards they were wholly unfamiliar with, and if you don't know why it's a problem to have cops patrolling neighborhoods they don't know, then I hope you don't work in law enforcement. Bogo could have been a pro poker player with his steel face if not for the part where professional gamblers are supposed to be a cool, chill kind of aloof whereas this cape buffalo just stood there like a monolithic pillar of staunch law and order with an expression that even a street-smart guy like Nick regularly had trouble reading. So when the Chief had requested her to come back later that night for a private conversation, she just couldn't get any hints off of him as to what it was about, so it was as good as a coin flip whether she'd done something worthy of personalized praise or if she was about to get her head calmly and professionally bitten off.

The summer sun was setting as she walked into the precinct. Benji had already gone home for the night, so the second-shift guy was in, an older dingo named Bruce who was perfectly friendly but rarely said more than hi, probably to conserve his introverted energy if he was going to be working until 11 pm. He smiled and wordlessly waved at her as he usually did, but while she could appreciate him taking an effort to share some sunniness with her, it really didn't help ease her nerves. They both knew something was amiss if she was returning to the precinct at this hour. And she had to wonder whether Bruce was aware of what had happened to her earlier and just wasn't asking how she was doing now, because she might have actually felt a little better if he'd inquired. Maybe Braverman wasn't the only one on the Force who was guilty of moral cowardice.

And on that topic of bravery and bashfulness, Judy found herself pondering whether she could also have found herself on that list of troublingly timid officers had things been different. Hey, here she was, trying not to be nervous about a visit to her boss's office, something that she knew logically shouldn't have made her feel any perceptible levels of anxiety. But she was able to quickly forgive herself because she knew it easily could have been so much worse: hers were a people infamous for literally dropping dead from panic attacks, she was one of the lucky ones that she could mostly control her sense of fear better than most bunnies, it was a stroke of fortune that she wasn't spending every waking moment hopped up on Xanax like plenty of members of her family were. So perhaps she wasn't an unflappable heroine who was a stranger to the concept of fear, but being able to get over the fear that all (well, most) mortal mammals carried with them in some capacity was good enough for her. That's what she told herself as she approached the door labelled

M. BOGO

CHIEF OF POLICE

Supposedly there were indeed some mythical mammals out there who were close to the chief, and even they only called him "Em" in lieu of a real name. It took her months to find out what that initial stood for - and when Nick came aboard and she told him it stood for "Madongo", he laughed his ass off for a solid two straight minutes before suddenly stopping and demanding to know whether that funny-sounding name was a racist joke. But, uh, no, fret not, my friend, I looked it up and "Madongo" seems to be an obscure but legit name from the Luganda culture - though whether or not it really translates to "uncircumcised" or if the internet is just fucking with me, I cannot say. And apparently his middle name is just "Joseph", but I can see that "Joe Bogo" might only be marginally preferable to "Madongo Bogo". (And if you're curious, yes, Slick Nick once tried to get away with coolly calling the Chief by his first name and Madongo didn't seem like was joking when he threatened to take Wilde's badge if he ever dared try it again.)

She knocked, and a few moments later the door was opened.

"Thank you for coming back after hours, Officer Hopps. I apologize if it was a hassle, but I've been waiting a week to find the right time to have this conversation."

"It's fine, Chief, if it's part of my duty, it's part of my duty," she said dutifully as she walked in. "So… what's the, uh… topic of discussion?"

"Please, have a seat."

Even in a city full of transplants, his accent gave away that he really wasn't from around these parts. He'd been a hot commodity when the ZPD landed his services, him having gained international recognition in law enforcement circles for how well he'd cleaned up London before deciding to challenge himself in the States and their notoriously mismanaged cities. Someone with more familiarity with the British Isles than myself could probably hear his gruff, guttural manner of speech and give you a more accurate guesstimate of where in England he was from (Judy and Nick had actually discussed this before and the fox had a chuckle when the poor rube bunny thought the Chief's accent was Cockney? No, that can't be right, can it? Hell, do Cockney accents even still really exist or was that just a relic of the Victorian era? Or is it like a stereotypical Valley Girl or Canadian or Blues Brothers/SNL Superfans Chicago accent where nobody ever really talked like that?)... but in any case, Judy knew nothing about this mammal's background beyond the scant pieces which were public information, because if Bogo's past wasn't relevant, he simply didn't share it. It was nothing personal that he withheld virtually all this information from his wards, he was just very strict about abiding by the books and keeping things professional.

And for these reasons and more, as she climbed into the adjustable chair with a five-figure weight capacity, she still couldn't make heads or tails of his mood. (Or did Bogo even experience moods? What if he was a robot? What if his big secret was that he was a machine designed by the British government to be the perfect police chief and they'd given him a strange ethnic name to throw everybody off? Unlikely, but that would be brilliant if that were the case.)

"I'm… ready for the news." She didn't want to sound nervous and stumble over her words, but she didn't want to repeat herself as she tried to get him to spill what the big deal was.

The Chief sat down himself and took a long breath through his nose as he formulated his words. "Officer Hopps… I've surely left you in anticipation for long enough, I won't mince words. Are you still enjoying your work as you once did?"

...Um… wow, uh… that certainly was a poignant question. Not at all what she was expecting, but perhaps she should have; always like the chief, cutting straight to the point. And yet he still seemed to be holding something back; if he were saying If you're bored, we can show you the door… he would have just told her off the bat to go ahead and walk through it.

"Oh! Uh, um… yeah, I… of course I'm enjoying my work!" she stammered; her statement was true at some times more so than at others, but still fundamentally the truth. "This has always been my life's dream, it… it'd take a lot for me to get sick of this - a-a-and I mean a LOT, heh, heh… um… why, uh, why do you ask, Chief? I, um… did I do something to give you the impression that I was losing my passion for my work? Just let me know and I'll fix it! I-"

But the chief just put a hoof up, and Judy got the hint and cut herself off. She wasn't typically one to stutter when speaking to authority, but this was a very unusual situation, and when she was in a spot where she didn't know what was going on and couldn't quickly figure it out, believing in herself would seem a foolish act.

But the boss quickly quelled the mystery: "I ask because Officer Braverman has expressed to me that he believes you're not enjoying his partnership with him."

...Interesting. She hadn't been expecting that. Wasn't expecting that at all, hadn't even crossed her mind as an option. There had been a few who'd told the boss that they refused to work with her, but… did she understand this right…?

"So… he didn't say he wasn't enjoying working with me-"

"He did not, he said he felt like you were a perfectly good partner and that he wasn't good enough a partner for you."

...That absolutely seemed like something that dog would say.

"Um… I'm sorry, Chief, this is just so… it's just kinda weird because he never said anything about this to me-"

"He also mentioned that he feared telling you about this at the risk of seeming to you to be even more - to use his word - 'pathetic.'"

...This also totally sounded like something Brady would say. But the question remained, where was the Chief going with this and why did it warrant such a special meeting?

"Chief, Chief, sir, I'm sorry, if this is because of Braverman's performance and, and if it made you think I stopped caring about doing my job well-"

"Hopps. Hopps, no." Bogo had his hand up again. "That's not at all what I'm trying to say. You've done nothing wrong. And though Braverman may still have a lot of growth to do as an officer, he's not done anything wrong either. Quite the contrary, you remain one of the finest beat patrolmammals on the ZPD, which is why my question was genuine whether you're not quite enjoying your work as you once did. If you're no longer finding your position fulfilling and Braverman is correct to say you could stand to be reassigned for your own sanity, then I should seek to serve you."

Well, then. Judy now definitely had an idea where this was going, but didn't want to assume anything lest she look foolish in front of the big boss mammal. After all, there were other ways this could be headed. So she waited patiently for him to say it himself.

Not to suggest she wasn't willing to bait him. "...Serve me how, sir?"

"Officer Hopps, would you like a promotion?"

It was either gonna be that or a lateral reassignment. The bunny's ears were certainly perked up.

"...What… what kind of promotion?"

"Detective."

And whereas earlier it had been running a little too quickly, now Judy's heart skipped a beat or two altogether.

"Are you interested?" the Chief pressed, clearly not wishing to waste any more time.

She didn't know how to answer that question without just sounding awkward, but the Chief wanted a reply, so she dutifully soldiered on. "Um… I… I'm not opposed to it, I'm not, I just, uh… I, I always just sort of thought I'd be a patrol officer for my career, you, y'know, interacting on the ground with the mammals I serve, I… I guess I just never envisioned myself as a detective-"

"Frankly, Officer Hopps, that surprises me," the buffalo interrupted, his unreadable face a little less stony but not by much. "One of the very first things you did as an officer of the ZPD was cracking a very high-profile case with only the help of an amateur off the street. That was, in essence, detective work, and you certainly seemed to enjoy it at the time. And if you still would enjoy it and you're simply being modest…" For a very brief interval, his face seemed almost remorseful. "...in that event, I must apologize for withholding this offer for as long as I have; the thought had crossed my mind at that time to put you on the detective track immediately, but not only did you seem to be enjoying beat work while still learning the city, you also… you were simply too famous. Having you on the street interacting with the common citizen, just as you said, was simply too good for PR to let the opportunity slip away."

Now she wasn't even thinking about whether or not to accept this sudden offer, she was just thinking about how much different of a spot she could have been in had things had been… well, different. And whether she would have preferred however that might have been.

"I do hope you don't feel as though we exploited your popularity with the citizenry, and I apologize profusely if you do," said the Chief, whose face nevertheless looked like he believed that's exactly what they'd done, but his countenance quickly returned to formal form as he continued; "rest assured, however, that having you spend a few years as a standard officer before so much as offering a promotion was always the correct way to do things, and it seems safe to give you a position above street-level now that it seems the city's love affair with you has waned."

Back to Classic Chief Bogo, saying something extremely straightforward and not knowing nor caring if it might be hurtful to hear. To clarify, it wasn't exactly… hurtful for Judy to hear the notion that the denizens of Zootopia had gotten over their adoration of her and Nick, because of course she already knew that, that was reality as she lived it - she just didn't care to be reminded of the fact so casually and callously. But no matter, facts are facts, and she had to take this information and use it.

"Of course, it still would not be an immediate reassignment," the Englishman continued, "as we'd have to properly train you. Assisting some current detectives with their cases, and you could of course expedite the process further if you were able to make time for a criminology degree to expand upon your Bachelor's in Criminal Justice - show enough promise and I can likely get it approved to have the cost of such a course reimbursed if not have you outright compensated for your time devoted to it - but this is all assuming that such a career path even interests you."

That clause. That ending to that sentence. Something about that set off alarm bells in her head. She'd given the impression that she wasn't open to the offer, and now the opportunity was slipping away - she didn't even want such an opportunity five minutes prior, but now that she knew such an opportunity existed, she didn't want to blow it off. Oh, but she didn't want to commit to it either in case it really wasn't for her…

"If none of this sounds appealing to you," Bogo kept going, sounding like he was wrapping up, "please just say so and I'll apologize for having wasted your time-"

"Oh! No! No, um…" She had to take a second to plan her speech. "I'm not disinterested, I just… this is so sudden, I hadn't even considered going detective, I… I'm just taking a second to, uh, y'know, get used to the idea. B-but Chief, you know me, you know that I'm true to my sense of duty! If the Department needs me to fill a vacancy in the detective's office, I'll do it! Put me where you need me, Chief, I won't let you down!"

But the Chief looked unfazed by her rally of enthusiasm. "Where we need you, Hopps, is wherever you can do your best work. If that's on the streets with Braverman, that's where we need you. If that's truly in the detective's office, then that's where we need you. If that's elsewhere, at the front desk or stationed at a public school or working undercover sting operations disguised as a prostitute, then that would be where we need you. But you'll be no good to anybody working as a detective if you're miserable. For this same reason, if you're miserable in your current position but are too polite and dutiful to make a fuss about it, you're not doing your best work there, either. I am simply offering to help you find a spot where you would be performing your best. Are you interested?"

This was too much. This was simply too much. Yes, she was not as content with her current position as she once was, but she still found the good in it. That's who she was, she kept always on the sunny side of life. Then again… this current arrangement was making the sunny parts harder to find as the world in her head began to seem clouded by negativity unlike anything she'd ever experienced before - barring one hellish summer six years ago. Did she really envision herself staying on patrol for the rest of her life? Um… kinda? Maybe? Not really? Eh? The god's truth was that she simply hadn't thought that far ahead; she'd worked so hard for so long to get to this spot, and now that she was here, she wanted to just live in the moment and not fret too much about the future for once in her life. Well, she'd had her chance to just enjoy the present for half a decade now, maybe it was time to start planning ahead again to make sure she didn't stagnate. And what kind of woman would she be if she didn't challenge herself? Hrm… well, then again, sometimes it's okay to say no to an opportunity if it just isn't you, y'know? Maybe this was her small-town old-fashioned upbringing, but she'd always imagined detectives as being cold, stoic guys in trenchcoats - and I do mean guys, she was all for breaking barriers but even to her, the idea of a woman filling that archetype didn't seem impossible so much as just odd. She had always kind of seen herself working in-person on patrol for an extended period of time, and if she had to choose an advancement trajectory… she wouldn't say this out loud, but yeah, she'd like to be in Chief Bogo's position one day. Could you get there from the detective track? She hadn't the foggiest, but she knew you had to go up to get there, and… this was certainly a way up. Oh, and the mammal largely at the root of this conflict: that poor pup Brady. She still felt bad about how negatively she found herself thinking about him, and yet she didn't think she was wrong to think a lot of these things; she didn't want to write him off as a pathetic excuse for a cop, but she didn't think she was the kind of mammal who could unlock whatever needed to be unlocked in his brain to get him to stop being so very pathetic; she didn't want to abandon a young, hopeful hound who clearly needed guidance, but she just didn't know if she could take another week of his wimpiness. And I'm aware, my friend, this paragraph is starting to ramble a little, but am I doing a good job of portraying why this bunny was so terribly conflicted as she sat there in the Chief's office, feeling pressed to make a decision? She was doing the responsible thing by weighing her options before she spoke, but what was she supposed to do now that the scale looked like it was dead even?

"What are you thinking, Officer Hopps?"

Judy looked her boss in the eye. She knew what she needed to say.

-IllI-

"...And so I asked him if I could have some time to think about it, and he just said, 'Yeah, of course, go ahead, I can't expect you to make a decision this big on the spot.'" She mindlessly rearranged some of the rice on her plate with her fork. "And it took everything I had not to just come right out and say… 'Boss, could you have just said that earlier? It really felt like you were prodding me to make a snap decision right here and now!'"

Nick chuckled lightly, making a point not to inhale any of the food in his mouth. "Ah, Classic Madongo Joe Bogo," he said after he swallowed and put his taco down. "Browbeating people like that and then going 'oh, you had the option this whole time not to feel intimidated by me, of course you did.' Stops being so infuriating when you think that maybe he's the one suffering with his terrible social skills."

"Yeah, I guess…" Judy sighed as she contemplated her plate. The taco meat was made of tofu, not fish or insects or poultry, so that they both could enjoy them. Her fox beau wasn't strictly vegetarian, but even before they met, he'd had a policy of avoiding eating things that had once been alive whenever there was a viable meatless option. It was one of the things that made their strange interspecies relationship a little easier.

Unbeknownst to her, however, this new development could make it much, much harder.

"So… so far, you leaning one way or another?" asked Nick, who would usually be in full support of whatever she sought to do, but given a certain meeting he'd just set up for tomorrow, a meeting she didn't know was happening and one she most certainly didn't know the topic of, he was really hoping to steer away from what could have been the mother of all awkward moments.

Judy just gave up on grasping her taco and let it drop the last half an inch down to the plate, needing both paws to prop her head up so she could let her face drop without faceplanting. "Well when I said I'd think about it, I meant it…"

"Yeah, but that doesn't mean you can't have your early preferences!" He'd dropped his own food to give her his full attention; she clearly could use some comfort, and in another circumstance he'd be happy to be more generous in providing it, but until she confirmed or denied what he was ever so slightly worried might be the case, all she was going to get was the comfort that came from his warm smile from the other side of the table.

And indeed, she looked up at that friendly face - not his famous vulpine smirk, but something that looked genuine - and it succeeded at putting her at ease just enough to find the courage to make firmer statements.

"Honestly… I never really wanted to be a detective of all things before… Having the option on the table doesn't make me want to do it any more now for any reason besides it… it is an option… I mean… sure, like the Chief said, what we did before was basically detective work, and that was rewarding, and - I hope this doesn't sound too sick, but it was kind of fun… considering the circumstances, you know what I mean… but I don't want to do that all the time, you know? I liked doing it once, but I did it because it was my duty… and, well, it was better than parking duty…"

"Alright. Alright! This is good. This is healthy," Nick encouraged her. "Talking it out might make you discover how you really feel!" He'd backed off at first to let her be candid without his influence, but now that she was starting to skew towards the answer he wanted, was he doing what he could to get her there faster? Damn straight he was. Underhanded? Maybe. But he had to put those foxy persuasion abilities to good use sometime, didn't want them getting rusty now.

"And maybe I'm thinking in stereotypes," she continued, "but… am I wrong to think that detective work would be even more depressing than what we already do? Or - what I already do, my bad-"

"It's no problem."

"But yeah, we're cops, we already clean up crimes as part of our job description, but in my head… I think detectives and I just think about death, murder, darkness, just… bleak everything. Yeah, fine, we've had to get involved in murders and deaths and fatal accidents and stuff, but… not all the time. I don't know if I could handle that much negativity without a break. Am… am I stupid? No, wait, better question… am I weak? Am I a weak woman, Nick, if I don't think I can handle just… such a grim line of work?"

"No. Absolutely not. You're not weak," her tod said confidently. "In fact, in my book, it's pretty strong of you to know who you are, know your limits, not try to force yourself to be someone else, and to seek something that's right for you when outside forces try to push you to something that isn't you." Yeah, after a conversation like this, it would still be a little awkward if and when this PI gig he was exploring came to fruition, but at least it wouldn't be as bad as some goofy scenario where they basically acted as one another's competition. It wouldn't be anything Nick couldn't make work.

And speaking of Nick making things work, Judy was actually cracking a tiny smile. "Thanks." Either she believed his uplifting words, or she believed he was doing his best to make her believe his uplifting words and she could respect the care that implied. "And… I gotta say… hey, maybe I've just seen too many old movies, but… when I think of a detective… I don't think of someone like me. Like, I don't mean I can't see it being a bunny or a girl, I mean… I don't think I'm depressed enough to be a detective. I think of a detective and I think of some guy who… sits alone in a room chain-smoking cigarettes until someone knocks on his door and makes him go solve something, a guy who just muses out loud about how much he thinks the world stinks, a guy who probably wants to be loved but someone who's so cynical and jaded that they aren't capable of receiving it let alone giving it… I know these are all just old movie stereotypes, I know they are, but… hey, there's gotta be some truth to them, right? Those stereotypes had to come from somewhere to be believable, right? Maybe all that darkness they have to deal with turns detectives into these… bitter… joyless… walled-off mammals… and I don't want that to be me."

...Alright, scratch that, it would nevertheless be very awkward if Nick took the job now knowing how Judy felt about what kind of mammals detectives were, but hey, a job was a job at this point, and she was indeed getting away from stepping on his newly-claimed turf.

"I mean, sure, they're helping mammals," Judy continued, "but… with the kind of mammals that other mammals think detectives are, they really don't want a detective's help unless they're desperate."

Nick, however, was struck by an odd defensiveness for a career he hadn't even entered yet. "Well, hey, how's that any different than people not hitting up the cops until things go south?"

The fox immediately realized he'd goofed up. For one thing, he'd been so quick to defend detectives that he didn't realize until the words had fallen out of his mouth that he'd kind of made it seem like it wasn't that stark of a departure from Judy's current occupation, ergo something not to fear as the great big unknown and possibly pushing her back to considering it. However, more pressingly, it seemed like that had happened along with… its opposite, in making the profession look unappealing? I dunno, my friend, what I'm trying to say is that the bunny was clearly offended that Nick had just made a sound argument comparing cops and detectives after Judy had gone out of her way to paint detectives as creepy loners nobody would ever choose to deal with.

"Wait-" he sputtered after seeing the look on her face, "-shit, wait, wait, my bad, that wasn't- that wasn't an anti-cop statement, I'm not saying people are right to assume cops are all assholes and that they should avoid you at all costs until they need you-"

"No, no, you… you're not wrong…" Judy sighed. "Nobody's stopping by the headquarters just to say hi."

He'd bummed his honey bunny out, but the sky old fox thought he had a simple way out of this. "Hey… people still stop and say hi to you on the streets, don't they?"

"Yeah… not as much as they used to, though…"

"But they still do."

She finally looked up at him again. "Yeah… yeah, you're right."

Nick nodded. Worked like a charm.

"But they wouldn't have the chance to if they never saw me on the streets…" she pondered further, head cocked and eyes to the ceiling. She was very deep in thought; Nick could tell because the entire table was wobbling from Judy's hyperkinetic lapine foot shaking in angst.

"Just think about it," Nick said softly. "I'm not here to influence you, except to guide you through your own thought process." Oh, yeah, Nick, we all believe you, hombre.

"...I guess I'm leaning towards no," she finally said as her Restless Leg Syndrome mellowed out. "It… maybe I'm not challenging myself enough, but Jeez Louise, it just doesn't feel like me."

"And that's perfectly alright," her redhead assured her. Mission accomplished. "You know better than anybody else who you are."

"I guess…" If all the utterances of I guess weren't enough to give it away, she didn't look quite confident in her conclusion. But she had to make a decision one way or another, and staying out seemed to carry less of a risk of making her even more miserable.

"So, what's next?" Nick asked to drive the conversation elsewhere. "You said Fido was cool with you finding a different partner; you gonna stick with him or make your exit?"

"So… it was weird, Chief told me he actually told Brady he wasn't gonna talk to me about this, he said it's because he didn't wanna give Brady anxiety waiting for me to hear about it and make my decision-"

"Which sounds exactly like something that puppy would do."

"It does. So when I see him tomorrow, he won't know the Chief told me anything. I guess I'll just feel it out… Aw, I've told you a hundred times, you know how it is, I don't wanna give up on him because he's a good dog but I just don't know if I'm the one who can make him all he can be. Not my fault, not his fault, different mammals click with different mammals sometimes-"

"I get it, I understand completely, I hear you." If a large part of charm was being a good listener, Nick had that down pat. Judy really did feel at ease in his presence. "Same as before, I just advise you to think it through; I can't make a decision for you, but I can help you get there." And feeling a job well done, Nick picked his taco back up and got to chowing down again, still keeping his eyes on her for whenever she might want his attention.

Judy simply nodded and said "Thanks," before picking her own food back up; as much as she wanted to keep talking, she was still pretty famished after such an eventful day. Hopefully the next day would be better. Hopefully the next day would make her feel like sticking with what she knew was the right decision. Hopefully the next day would be a good one.

-IllI-

The next day was neither a good one nor a bad one and that paradoxically made it kind of worse. At least a bad day like yesterday would be notable. A day like this just felt like a wasted day, a day you'd cut out of the final draft of the story of your life. And yet this mundanity seemed to offer a moment of clarity.

It hadn't been a day when nothing happened; they'd had to tend to a minor car accident, a domestic dispute that fortunately seemed to be overblown, and a call where some Karen had dialed 911 on a llama spitting on the sidewalk who then argued that expelling haphazard loogies were part of his people's culture. And after all these cases where they'd left the scene with everybody clearly frustrated and nobody seeming comforted by the cops showing up, they were off driving aimlessly again, Judy behind the wheel while the German Shepherd tuned out and stared out the window, having put his ear buds in once again and listening to his music.

He wasn't listening to his pop-punk this time, he seemed to be listening to something more indie-ish and a bit poppy. Still an obscure song that Judy had never heard of, nevertheless. Not to say that he was playing it so loud that Judy could hear it loud and clear, but he was singing softly to himself once again, and Judy had to wonder to herself: did Braverman have a penchant for choosing songs that just seemed to have immediately relevant lyrics, or was that her brain just looking for symbolism in everything and finding it?

"I cliiimbed a mouuuntaiiin, and nevvver caaame baaack… I will not quiiit, aaand I alwayyys flight back… and frooom this mommment, for aaall myyy liiife, what can I saaay? ...I was borrrn to beee this wayyy. What can I saaay? ...Just liiiviiin' for todayyyyyy…"

Brady most certainly would quit and would not always fight back. Judy wasn't proud to think that, but she couldn't deny that she did. She could already sense that this would be another case of her overanalyzing the words Brady mumbled lazily as he seemed half-asleep in the passenger seat.

"III'm frommm a smaaall towwwn of haaard wooorking folllks… Weee're aaall borrrn riiich, and we aaall diiie broooke…"

...Alright, now this song started to sound like it was speaking to her personally. She didn't know what to make of the "born rich, die broke" line, but she was from a small town of hard-working folks and Brady wasn't. And that's all it took to get her really listening, which really made things weird when Braverman got to the chorus, which he sang with an uptick in vigor:

"Aaand weee aaall knowwwww that the sun wiiill shiiiiine! III must gooooo chaaase this dreeeam of miiiiine! Aaand III knowww III can dooo youuu prouuuuud, whennn III'm hiiiiigh aaabovvvvve thooose clouuuuuuuds… at aaall…" And on he continued to the next verse, unaware that his partner was having an epiphany behind the wheel: "III don't siiing welllll, but I gottt a lottt a' heaaart…!"

He most certainly did not sing well, but she didn't know how much heart she could say he had. And as uplifting and inspiring as this song was supposed to be, the idea of a guy like Brady being brave enough to chase his dreams was just so farfetched to her that the sheer thought of it struck her as depressing. But hey… maybe the song was never meant for him.

If she didn't know better, she'd think Brady's body was being inhabited by an angel playing a slow, excruciating long-game to convince her to make a move in her life. I mean, the song's lyrics were just too fitting. How many songs can you think of that come right out and tell a tale of feeling frustration with one's current place and boldly head out to seek something greater?

...Okay, come to think of it, there were a lot of songs like that. Like… hundreds, at least, possibly thousands. Maybe not precisely the same in tone and structure, but in terms of getting the same point across, off the top of her head, Judy could think of that Kelly Clarkson song, or that Aerosmith song, or that Fleetwood Mac song, or that other Fleetwood Mac song… or heck, even that Gazelle song that was burning up the charts back during The Crisis could fit the bill. And actually, she hadn't even noticed at the time, but a few tracks prior, Brady had been mumbling that signature rap-rock song by the baddest white bunny in the hip-hop game, but the dog had clearly forgotten half of B-Rabbit's lyrics so he spent half the song murmuring "na na na na Mom's spaghetti'' every time he encountered a bar he didn't remember, so while the potential had been there half an hour earlier for the message of encouragement to have gotten through to her, it was lost in Braverman skipping half the words in his recitation. Honestly, whatever song he was singing now was… really, really generic, wasn't it? Judy wondered if she could have just put her own Spawtify account on shuffle and gotten a similar song with a similar impact within an hour.

But in any case… the impact had been made. She did have to go chase this dream of hers. But she already kind of had, and she'd gotten it. So what was supposed to come next? Well… that wasn't her only dream, was it? What else did she dream of?

...Greatness, for one. And to never stagnate nor stop improving. And to be someone unbound by fear, someone willing to take on a challenge that she didn't see coming, like the challenge of a new battle entirely. And she dreamed to always break stigmas and barriers; maybe she herself saw detectives as cold and callous individuals, but it didn't have to be that way, and she had the power to change that. She'd redefine the archetype; she was a leader, not a follower.

And she most assuredly wanted to be someone who made the world a better place. Nick was right: mammals didn't seek out either cops nor detectives unless they needed to. Fine, thus was the nature of her work, but she believed that that didn't mean their work wasn't important. It's not like mammals were swinging by the firehouse for a howdy-do either. So the Chief thinks she had the skills to be a detective? Alright, then she'd make the world a better place by playing to her strengths. When she said she'd be loyal to her sense of duty, she meant it.

But just to make sure she wasn't seeing signs where there weren't any…

"Hey, Brady?"

Her partner pulled the cords out of his ears and pulled up his phone to stop the music, which was already on to the next song. "What's up?"

"Uh… I couldn't help but overhear that song you were singing to yourself there…"

"What, you mean the one just now? Did you not like it because it had the word 'bitch' in it?"

"No, no, before that. Um… it got me thinking, what dream are you chasing right now?"

The German Shepherd winced. "Right now?"

"Yeah."

He shook his head a little. "We're at work right now." Telling that he viewed being at his job as antithetical to pursuing a goal.

"No, I just mean… at this stage in your life. Where do you see yourself in five years?"

He chuckled. "What is this, a job interview?"

"You know what, let's pretend it is." She was trying not to grow impatient with his refusal to give her a straight answer.

But he didn't seem to be messing with her; at this point, he just looked genuinely confused. "I mean… what do you expect me to say?"

"Just tell me what dream you're working towards." Her frustration was peeking through just a tad. "I just wanna get to know you better."

But her partner just stared at her like she was asking to see pictures of a pet iguana he didn't have. "Nothing, really. I mean… what can I work towards? This is… it, isn't it? This job?"

"But I know being a cop wasn't your first choice, so what is your dream?"

He just shrugged again. "I mean, what can I do in this life? I mean - yeah, there's plenty we can do, I know if I stop talking for two seconds, you'll probably remind me how you became a cop when nobody believed in you, but… you wanted that. And I kind of think wanting things like that is a privilege, honestly. Because I understood your question entirely, Judy; I just didn't understand if you understood that we're not all so fortunate to feel passionate about something. Yeah, I have dreams: being liked, feeling fulfilled, getting the sense that I've done great things… but those are all vague concepts. How do I get there? There's a million options… but they all seem miserable, they all seem like they require more work than would be worth it. And I really think more people are like me than like you: our dream is to find a dream so we can have something to live for like you do. Hey, just like the song said… we're just livin' fer today because why would we live for the future? Is… do you understand that? Does that make sense as an answer?"

That did it. That confirmed that that song, and all others like it, was not for him, it was for a dreamer like her. Was it absurd to think this was actually some intelligent force in the cosmos using an obscure piece of pop culture to give her a sign? Absolutely. Would it have been more absurd if she didn't take the opportunity to follow its good advice anyway? Absolutely.

"I just depressed the shit outta you, didn't I?" Brady pushed.

"Huh? Oh… no. No you didn't." And she meant it. It might have depressed her if she hadn't had her moment of clarity, but she had, so it didn't. She just felt driven.

"...What're you working towards, then?"

"...What?"

"You asked me what I was working towards as if everybody's working towards something - that kinda suggests you got something going on. Any goals I should know about?"

That's when it hit her. He knew exactly what he was saying. He had been the one to encourage the Chief to give her something better to do somewhere else with someone else. He was the one who thought she'd be best with a reassignment. But he did not know that the Chief had ever even pitched the idea to her. As far as he knew, this was in his hands, and although he may have been a skittish little anxiety case, he had the courage to challenge her to be her best self. What are you working towards, Judy? Five minutes ago, she wouldn't have had an answer. Then Braverman sang his little song and reminded her that she'd best set some goals. There had been a sentient force using that song to persuade her, and that force was black and beige and brown and blond. This dog knew exactly what he was doing.

Thank you, Brady, Judy found herself thinking, this is one part about you that you should never feel the need to change.

...So Officer Braverman tells me that he had absolutely no idea that his partner had been under the impression that he'd been feeding her motivational subliminal messages via the lyrics of songs that had indeed been randomly shuffled and that he never in a million years would have had the mind to do such a thing, and furthermore when he'd told the boss to reassign her he'd literally just meant reassign her to some other patrol partner because he didn't realize that she was eligible for a promotion and thus couldn't have been egging her on to take a leap that he hadn't even known was an option. Eh, whatever, all's well that ends well.

"Are you… are you trying to think of a polite way to tell me that's none of my business?" Brady offered.

This question successfully made Judy realize that there had been a previous question that she had completely failed to acknowledge because she was preoccupied with reading into its nonexistent subtext.

"Oh! Uh… nonono, you're fine, I'm sorry, it would be super rude of me to ask you a question then get defensive when you ask it right back to me, I just spaced there for a second, um…"

"So what's your big goal at the moment, then?"

The bunny slowed down at a yellow light she definitely could have made (which wasn't quite as much of a non-issue as one might have thought after Bogo implemented an anti-corruption policy that cops who got ticketed by red-light cameras while operating squad cars in non-emergency situations would have the sum of the penalty automatically deducted from their paycheck) because she wanted to look her partner in the eyes for what might be one of the last times.

"You got me good in my own trap, Brady. I didn't know what I'm working towards. But I've decided…" She trailed off for a moment as a warm smile grew across her muzzle. "...my goal is to accept any challenge that I think might make me a better mammal and better at making the world a better place!" And it's all thanks to you.

Braverman blinked at her. "...So you're admitting that the first time you asked me that question was a trap?"

"You can listen to your music again now."

"Okay."

And the cruiser was silent for a few moments as Judy waited for the light to change and Brady put his ear buds back in and resumed the next song on his playlist, already on its second verse:

"My frieeeeend's got this boyyyfriend, man, she haaates thaaat DICK! She tellllls meee-eee evvv-errr-yyy day!"

...Moments like these just reinforced Judy's theory that Brady was doing this on purpose.

"He waaants more diiinerrro just to staaay aaat hooome, welllll myyy FRIEND, ya gottttta say!"

But maybe she could take this moment of inspiration home to share with Nick and maybe get him some sense of direction in his own life. Yeah, Nick, your girlfriend who pays the rent realized that she needs to always set goals for herself, what are your goals? Hopefully her good fortune would get him motivated and not just make him bitter.

"I won't pay! I won't payyy ya, no way-ay-ay-ayyy, ya…!"

But while she of course preferred it to happen sooner rather than later, she really did have the utmost faith that he'd find his way eventually. He confessed some cynicism about that, citing that amid the innumerable mammals he knew were many who had genuinely tried to get their shit together and just never could, but she insisted that he wasn't like them, he was far too clever and resourceful to go his entire life without figuring it all out like they had. With this faith in mind, she was curious what kind of path he would come to end up on. With any luck, maybe his new journey would compliment her own new journey as a full-fledged detective, like maybe a journalist or something. As long as it wasn't anything that clashed, rivalled, or directly competed with her new career. Nah, that would just be silly, there's no way that would happen. No matter what route he chose...

"Naaaa na, whyyy dooon't youuu gettt aaa job!?"

...she'd surely just be glad he had one.