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What issues might lie beneath a complex and highly diverse society like Zootopia? On to chapter the third...

Tinbuzzard11

Chapter Three:

Faultlines

"We need to go discuss this someplace more private," That had been Nick's suggestion after Judy had read his dispiriting report. To her initial bewilderment, he'd chosen the heart of Savanna Central Square as the best place within easy crutch range, so there they sat, while he idly scanned the mid-day crowds with a pocket binocular.

She had to admit it was actually a pretty good spot to preserve their isolation. They'd commandeered a vantage atop a decorative slab of rock, close by the plaza's central water hole and fountains. The soothing white noise splash and burble in front of them, along with their raised perch, effectively masked their conversation. To passersby behind, the sight of two uniformed cops apparently staking out the entrance to the transit station warranted their presence.

There was still a pleasant coolness to the air as the springtime sun shown upon the throng. It was much like the day she'd first arrived in Zootopia, but now her past optimism had yielded to the unexpected faults beneath their society.

Judy, she remonstrated; your efforts to make this world a better place aren't any more effective than using a fresh coat of paint to get that weather-beaten barn through another season. She knew Bogo had been right a year ago when he'd said, "the worlds always been broken, Hopps."

"Nick, she admitted to you that the evidence is circumstantial," Judy finally observed reluctantly. "It's a long way from confirming old legends about feral animals. Can't they keep this in the past where it belongs?

"No, that's our real problem Carrots. One," he raised a digit, "it's almost certainly not just in the past. Two, there was enough evidence for these mammals to notice and put the pieces together, that means others will find it too. And three, if someone tries to suppress it, that will just draw attention. This will work its way into the public consciousness eventually; and they will react the only way they can, the worst possible way."

"Again with the cynicism, Nick. I thought you'd found a more positive outlook on life." Yeah, like the one I just lost, she reflected. "Maybe people will deal with this better than you think they will." The slight, forlorn smile from her partner showed how ineffectually naive he thought that statement was.

"Two decades to develop it Carrots," her fox said sadly. "Less than a year of happy bunny therapy won't cure it however much I want it to. It's a street survival thing to watch and read everyone around you. You learn to see their real personalities and motivations and a lot aren't very good. What we call civilization is just a façade over all of our individual prejudices, suppressed feral instincts, and old interspecies fears and rivalries. It wouldn't take much to shatter it. Ten months ago, that psychotic sheep came closer to doing that than just about anyone realized."

Judy gazed out at the oblivious crowds, as yet unaffected by the debilitating knowledge that had originated with this Dr. Soren; who'd infected Nick with it, who'd passed it to Bogo, and now to her. "It's not fair Nick, why do we have to be the heroes again?"

"Cause you're the idealist who picked hero as a profession Carrots; and decided to turn me into one. Anyone can be anything," sarcasm fouled the fox's voice. "Not only do you like to say that; you were able to live it to the point that you've convinced yourself of its truth. Well most of us can't, that's reality, that's my truth; there are huge faults with this...artificial society we've built that can never be fixed. Some deluded mammals say we're all equal under the law and to each other. Any kit can see through that."

"Nick! Don't be like this. This isn't more than supposition, and look what it's done to us already!" Judy tried to invoke enough outrage to cast off their self-imposed mantle of depression. "How did we let this get to us? We've no perpetrators, victims, or credible evidence there's been a crime, and we've still blown it up into this existential threat to all of mammalian society!"

"Deflection and denial aren't a good fit for you; I saw your face as you were reading." Nick's own face lost its intensity and his eyes filled with a deep sadness. Judy had seen that look once before-high over the rainforest district. He hadn't been looking directly at her then; now, she could see every minute detail in his emerald irises.

"Do you want to know the real reason I became a cop? It wasn't to prove myself to you or anyone else; it wasn't to keep you from being disappointed in me; and it wasn't because I wanted to work with my partner and be happy in your imaginary, idealistic world. I did it Judy, so I could always be with you to protect you from mine! And yesterday I couldn't."

She opened her mouth to gasp, but it stalled in her throat. Protect me? He really thinks I've been sheltered enough to need it? To her distress, she realized he did.

"Remember the day we first met?" Nick earnestly drove it home. "I gave some bunny metermaid a brutal dose of reality about the big city. Now you get the broader follow-up lesson, although I'll do my best to be understanding about it and not invoke Mr. Nasty fox. We both have to be prepared for this. So Miss Bunnyburrow, what do you see out there?"

"I see a cit..." Judy stopped; she knew what he expected her to say.

"We see what we want to see, Carrots. To survive, some of us need to see things we'd rather not. I see fissures and fractures all through that modern, cooperative society of yours. I made my living exploiting some of them. One of the biggest divisions goes right between us!" Nick drew his paw along the smoothly worn rock shelf they sat on for emphasis.

"Savage predator, meek prey," Judy intoned appropriately to try to lighten the mood.

"Right, and no matter how you feel about it, that divide will affect how you interact with someone on the other side." He gave his sternum a pat. "Yeah, you can have a friend, a work...partner; but society imposes constraints on your behavior with them. This morning for example," Nick said with a hint of bitterness.

"I didn't think about it, it was an automatic reaction! Besides, didn't you forgive me?"

"I did." Nick cracked a brief smile. "But it does reinforce my point. We all live in a sea of prejudices and expectations, and they continually soak in whether we're aware of them or not. Some of us try to fight them off; others don't care. There are circumstances where I would have done the same thing you did. After all, what would our moms think?

Judy had to laugh, her mood brightened at the realization she was still able to. She slid closer and they leaned together. Nick proffered an arm in comfort; she reached to reciprocate. Voices from behind. Her left ear flicked erect and twisted back; Nick's muzzle followed it around, and he abruptly pushed her upright and himself away.

Two young female pigs in business casual watched them intently from about forty feet back; one stopped poking at, and re-pocketed a smartphone with an irritated snuffle. Judy's glare was enough to send them on their way again. Great, she thought, that would have earned them condemnation from society, chief Bogo, and mom.

"Got to watch out slick, we forgot where we were and almost ended up on furbook-and here I was afraid of what your neighbor would think!"

"Ah! My country bunny; it would have also been in the "About Town" section of the newspaper with something like; "Cops Canoodling on the Clock." The normal Nick had come back with his characteristic smirk and amusement in his voice. "Unless the tabloids printed it first-in every market and convenience store in Zootopia-in seventy-two point headlines: Public Passion! Police Partner's Predator Prey Perversion! Then ZNN Primetime-you would have been bigger than Gazelle for days!"

"Me? It would be us, I wasn't here by myself!" Ears already flushed due to their narrow escape; Judy was further embarrassed by her weak comeback to Nick's impressive ad-lib.

"You're the celebrity Carrots, I'm not the one on the recruitment poster. I'd just be the foxy boytoy, I don't have TV time, fanclubs, websites..."

"Now you've gotten ridiculous. I haven't had an interview since you...became my..."

"Ever Zoogled yourself? Maybe you should see what's out there about our famous ZPD officer. I'll bet there's more than one young mammal out there whose got a Judy Hopps shrine in their bedro... Ah, I see my bunny now understands true horror. So, ready to revisit the possible fall of civilization? It has to be way less scary for you than that. Yes?"

Nick did that very canine head tilt and prick your ears thing, and pulled another giggle out of her. Her amazing fox had recognized, and brought them back from the emotional brink to something that approached normalcy. It was another reminder of why she'd come to implicitly rely on her partner...and best friend. Whom she'd run from...and hurt because of what everybody would say...but it was for us...we have to maintain a professional... She'd also started to think of him as her fox. Judy winced and felt herself shrivel up inside.

"Carrots, don't backslide; I need my clever bunny right now. We both freaked out about this problem, but can't afford to any more. I want to explain why this hit me harder than you at first; why I know society's more fragile than you think."

"Just talk Nick, I'll handle it," Judy stated, unsure she really could right now. She badly wanted to do something habitual right now, like worry her nibble stick, to put her mind off those two words he'd lodged in her head; my...bunny. It was just simple conversation she told herself...it's not at all like your thinking about...my fox.

"Right," Nick continued. "Our little performance illustrated the pred-prey divide quite well. That's part of the broader self-enforced segregation between most species. Don't object! Look around Carrots; see who most mammals associate with—groups of their own kind. Herd of antelope there, flock of sheep up the street. There's only three waiting over here, but call it a pack of wolves, nobody else with them. There's mixed pairs here and there; sure, friend's meet, business gets done, doesn't matter. What's missing are larger multispecies groups; the few you see are co-workers out to lunch, school field trips, tourists, that sort of thing. Organized groups, not mixed casual socializing."

"C'mon Nick, what about concerts, restaurants, and movie...thea..." The fox's patronizing smile showed that she was reinforcing his point. "Yeah, that's all in public, not personal."

"Good examples for another divisive issue though. Theatres—the big and mid-size ones want to maximize their profit, so they put smaller mammals in front, larger in back. Now consider a theatre in Little Rodentia. Would you go to one? Course not, Lapinzilla here would have to rip off the roof to see the show. Restaurants—again, some have sections for larger and smaller mammals within limits. The priciest will cater to everyone. Others only serve mammals of more uniform size and diet. Would you really be comfortable in one that caters to hippos, elephants and rhinos? Sure, you might go, but restaurant staff would rather fill that seat with a more logistically manageable customer who wasn't a selldown."

"Point is;" Nick concluded. "Physical size is the primary segregator in mammal society. Too big a difference is unbridgeable no matter how idealistic and tolerant you are! Enough so that it's not only built into Zootopia's infrastructure, but also reinforced by longstanding government policy and our tiered economic system. It's just the way things are."

Her streetwise fox—and a police academy lecturer from ZU she'd argued with—were unfortunately right. The prof had stated bluntly, "excepting special circumstances, it is almost impossible to maintain a comfortable, casual, associative friendship with someone from a species more than four or five times larger or smaller than yours." Judy was barely half of Nick's size; and that was fine, on the job and off. However...

It was far more awkward when she'd gone shopping that time with Fru Fru. Little Rodentia wasn't ready for another visit from the lagomorph colossus, so they'd patronized stores elsewhere that accommodated their sizes. To facilitate conversation and safety, Judy carried the arctic shrew while in larger places, and waited outside the small shops while she browsed. At least Fru's security guard dealt with the hassles of parking the limo.

"Your right Nick, I didn't look for it, or want to see it. I guess we really are divided." Sadness now reinvigorated Judy's depression. "I'd just hoped mammalkind would be more...united here—like we are back home."

"Thanks for the lead-in," Nick said with more interest in his voice. "I've never been there—except through your homesick descriptions of bucolic bliss—so can I assume the residents are a smaller number of mid-size species in a purely tier two economy?" The fox's expectant look forced the admission of her prior life in a far less diverse environment.

"I didn't really think of it that way before, but you're right," Judy admitted. "Bunnyburrow is a widespread region with a large population of...mostly us. The only mammals you see there larger than pigs or sheep are usually visitors. And before you ask, the nearest cluster of really small mammal towns are miles away."

"Zootopia has three hundred and forty...one species." Nick said authoritatively; then ruined his comportment by hurriedly reaching to scratch inside the back of his shirt. "How many did you normally associate with in B Burrow?"

"Uh, fifteen, maybe twenty?" Judy mentally ticked off as many as she could remember. "It's not as bad as it sounds Nick, I met a lot more in school. They build the newer, larger ones in between different types of towns to gather and acquaint more species with each other. Woodlands Elementary was pretty progressive, we even had a lot of predator's kits."

"But most of you rural mammals still live in communities with your own kind, right?"

Yep, we rural types are pretty parochial." Judy confirmed sadly. As the fox had pointed out earlier, most normal relations between species were organized in some way. "We rarely had non-rabbit visitors at the house. Dad did his business in town at the agricultural exchange—it was more suitable for dealing with other species."

"Ok, back to Zootopia!" Nick spread his paws to include the thinner post-lunch population of the square. "The great experiment to bring all of disparate mammalkind together from regions worldwide! Except that by trying to encourage cross-species integration, its creators also managed to bolster many mammals ancestral divisions and animosities. Our bloated civil code—and our own jobs-just papers it over. And that's what makes our potential feral, and exploited or extinct mammal problem so serious."

"Because most of us really don't know or care much about the species specific problems of others." Judy realized. "I don't know a lot about fox culture beyond my experience with you, we've never really talked about it. I'm sure it's the same for you with rabbit culture."

"Yeah, and giraffes will care about how goats socialize," Nick said brightly. "Or marmots will show concern for the plight of an unemployed moose." They welcomed the diversion and took a few minutes to contrive ever more absurd combinations and mismatched issues.

"Ok, enough with the pairings you weird little furball; thought you'd be worse than I am at stereotypes. But, to continue, there are higher levels of societal divisions such as group similarities; canines generally prefer to associate with other canines, felines with felines, and many others that share affinities will herd or flock together too. Environmental differences are another separator—both climactic and nocturnal. Above those is of course pred-prey. And finally, we can't ignore the financial considerations."

"Financial Nick? Ok, how does that influence interspecies relations?" Curious due to his prior hints, Judy played along to hear the ex con-mammals economic philosophy.

"Thank you again Carrots for being the straight-mammal. Ah! Money." Nick's face shifted to sly fox, and he slowly and avariciously rubbed his paw pads together before he continued.

"Different species have different abilities and needs; some of those are more valuable and exploitable than others. I assume that like most cadets, you daydreamed your way through the 'Economics of Crime' academy class?" Nick made a couple of figures eight with his paw in the air between them. "I, however, found that it explained and confirmed much of what I learned attending street college."

"That class wasn't just about recognizing fraud and money laundering, the interesting stuff was about commerce across economic tiers. It's heavily regulated, but there are opportunities for savvy and observant mammals like those that may have...tutored me."

"Humph; so all your BS, must be a Bachelor's of Slick." Judy said as she squirmed a bit to find a more comfortable position; they'd been sitting on this slab for two hours. Her stomach took the opportunity to grumble a reminder that lunch was overdue as well.

"Heard that, I'll try not to take too long," Nick said. "Four size based tiers, four sets of physical money, three relatively fixed exchange rates even though they're adjustable in principle. The authorities rarely do that because one tier would benefit at the expense of the other for up or down commerce. So economic adjustments are usually made through wages, taxes, and subsidized commodity values." Nick noticed her frown and let her interject.

"I'm aware of the tiers Nick, but practically, don't most people ignore them? I've bought first tier goods with my money, it's legal."

"Yeah, you can. You're never going to forget buying me that jumbo pop, are you? But think about it; for the individual mammal, inter-tier commerce is basically one way. Cash flows up, commodities flow down. It's rarely practical to buy goods from the tier below. Tier four can't anyway; they're the base. The only exceptions might be things like jewels or precious metals—that's why they have fixed prices for each tier tied to the exchange rates.

"Now on the other paw, unlike us, businesses are licensed to exchange credit and cash across tiers through the banks. They will price some retail items for the next tier down in addition to their own. They often make a small extra profit from these selldowns. What businesses can't do is selldown bulk commodities. The exchange rates don't fully compensate for the volume of the goods—you'd need more tiers for that. That's why any two-tier selldown is illegal. The purchaser's competitive advantage would be enormous."

"Our multi-size, multi-layered economies—yes, the tiers operate somewhat autonomously and in parallel-are why various financial crimes make up most of the illegal activity in Zootopia. Some are the basics like theft, extortion, and embezzlement; that's our concern. More serious ones for society are exchange rate fraud, money laundering, and bulk commodity selldowns. Business and banking regulators and the ZBI mostly handle those.

Many species are economically disadvantaged by their biology, regardless of how inclusive we are. They build resentments towards the rest of us—seen as unfairly successful. Just more cracks in the foundations of society." Professor Wilde put his paws behind his head in conclusion and gazed out at nothing. "Any questions before I pass out the quiz?"

"Yesss..." Of course Nick would find a way to bring up biology. Judy tried to process everything he'd said. She'd watched him sell to mice. I've never seen mouse money she thought. How'd they pay him...the jumbo pop was tier one, the lemmings three, the mice...

"I threatened you with tax evasion fox," she said harshly enough to grab his attention again. "Seems I could've also gotten you on a three tier selldown, and some kind of money conversion charge." Judy softened her tone. "All that from a rather small-scale scam. I'd really like to know how you justified and implemented that," she said as Nick's smile returned.

"By being quite aboveboard and legal, Carrots," he said, confidently enough that she thought most would want to believe him. Smooth, sincere; he has a gift, Judy admitted.

"We're both tier two," Nick began. "Either of us would've been acceptable purchaser's of the pop. Thank you so much officer, by the way. As a non-durable good, it soon melted away, and Finnick and I made sure to leave no residue to sully the fair streets of our city."

"But you resold it...them to third tier customers. A two-tier selldown violation!" Judy realized her mistake as soon as she'd said it. He already had her off balance.

"That would be the case if our less-than-friendly elephant proprietor had sold to them! I, however, had recast the original and sadly no longer existent frozen treat, and legally offered my new products as a legitimate one-tier selldown under the authority of my 'Receipt of Declared Commerce'. My business profits could then—if needed-be exchanged at the bank for more wallet friendly tier two cash as allowed under that same Receipt. I then conscientiously recycled the used pawpcicle sticks as building materials."

"Where did you get the sticks?" Judy said, aware he'd have another justification ready.

"At my local market. I see where you're going with this. They were a tier two purchase that I subsequently sold to third-tier customers who then discarded them. Finnick took possession of the previously owned third-tier items that he then resold to a fourth-tier customer. A one-step selldown and up-convert of his profits."

"Finnick's a third-tier mammal?" Judy had to admire the logic behind their operation.

"Yup. The big guy's right at the second-third transition; got a foot in both tiers. Carries two sets of cash. He handles fourth to third up-converts; I did third to second."

"Couldn't a prosecutor still get you for the sticks if they really wanted to?" Judy asked. "Technically, under fourth tier restrictions they're lumber, a durable good, a bulk commodity. And what about you delivering them; isn't that some kind of two level for hire transaction?" There just had to be a slip-up she could find to display more of her clever bunny bona fides. Or keep up with his, and try to erase that con-fox tone from his voice.

"Ah, but they're used, and my dropping them off was as Finnick's temporary hire; so no delivery company, thus no waybill. New materials probably require some kind of tax or trade stamp on them, but with all of the previous owners, they've probably worn off." Nick ran his tongue around his parted lips, with a slow detour around each fang, to illustrate how he'd seasoned one of his sticks of supplied red wood—with a space in the middle of course.

"Carrots, they can always find something if they want to, that risk never goes away," Nick admitted. "It's usually enough to keep your operation sufficiently... modest, so that what they can recover is less than their cost to pursue it."

"Nick, you're with the they now," Judy gently flicked her badge. "Did you plan all of your hustles this meticulously, or just prepare this one for me?"

"Careful keeps you out of trouble, Carrots, but this was for you alone." He gave her his best shady vulpine grin and briefly placed a paw on her shoulder. "I knew you'd eventually need some sort of closure for your introductory humiliation at my paws, so I expected you'd obsess over that and hope to find some fault with my operation. Such a victory of yours, even if held over me in a comradely fashion, would be inimical to my self-image as a successful ex-hustler."

"If you ever get really hard-up Nick, you could always pawn that tongue," Judy said sharply, but backed it with a smile. "Now, do you have the energy to make it to the tram platform? There's that Denning's a stop away, and I'm too hungry to be picky."

The lanky fox had gotten up onto the rock slab without too much effort, but needed to rely on her for balance to get back down. The afternoon did its best to keep their earlier glum mood at bay, with cumulus accents in the clean air and brilliant highlights from the skyline. Recognition and a couple of friendly greetings from passersby also helped lift her spirits, although Nick's ears flattened ever so slightly at the attention she got.

The chain eatery was mostly empty post-lunch, so they had their choice of tables where Nick could elevate his hurt leg. Thankfully, her house salad and Nick's plate of pasta, cheese, and cubed Proteo bars came quickly after they ordered. She stole his side salad without objection and added it to hers. A mutual glance and they started to shovel their food down so relentlessly that the alpaca waitress left them alone until they'd finished.

"Appreciate the effort, but we have to wash them anyway huns," said their server as she gathered the plates and left the check. Judy felt the tall alpaca was a little too old for the amount of fur—with shaved runic patterns—that her uniform revealed. That, and the laid-back attitude, would fit the likely customer profile for the Mystic Spring Oasis. It was Judy's turn for lunch, so she went to the cashier while Nick dug out his phone.

"Outpatient clinic can take me now for my evaluation and PT session," Nick said as she returned. "Can I get a friendly police escort over there?"

"If you promise to follow instructions so they clear you for duty faster. Fangmeyer's been fine with me, but I think she really wants Wolfard back." Judy held the door for her partner and saw they'd just missed a tram.

"You think something's going on between them? I know Benjy's suspicious," Nick snarked as he peg-stepped his way over to the mid-size bench at the stop.

"Rude to even consider that Nick," Judy admonished as she sat with him. "Clawhauser's a romance predator according to Delgato. Told me he'll stalk any hint of it—even the deviant stuff-more avidly than he does pastries. Look at how he even watches us!"

"Yeah, that's really pushing it, Carrots. Clawhauser's just obvious about it; Bogo's the really observant one. I wonder if he took advantage of us," Nick gently patted his wrapped thigh, "to split Fangs and Wolfie, see their responses, and find out what's going on."

"C'mon Nick, that's absurd! A tiger and wolf? That's over the line for an acceptable relationship in spite of Clawhauser's fantasies. Why would Bogo suspect them? They're friends and partners like us; they wouldn't risk their careers and reputations with even the appearance of anything more."

"No, of course they wouldn't, none of us would," said Nick in a subdued voice that nevertheless clutched at her very core. They stayed with their thoughts for a minute or two before the constriction in her chest eased and she could continue.

"I still worry that the rumors might build to the point where it hurts them—or someone else. It happened often enough with my family. Gossip was the most productive crop we had. Lots of my siblings got grilled by mom and dad for stuff they had no idea about; things that got passed through so many others that nobody knew—or admitted-who started it."

Even my relative lack of personal improprieties generated suspicions, Judy recalled sadly, it's just one of the blessings of an enormous family.

"Well, we're just another big happy family at the ZPD, so I'm glad you're used to it," the fox confirmed to her annoyance. "If it's absurd, the guys will treat it that way, some laughs and embarrassment, you give, you take. If Clawhauser gets on your case too much, ask him if he's found a girlfriend—but do it carefully or he might ask you out." Nick pointed and almost booped her on the nose.

"Do all males act this way, or are mature ones really that rare?" Judy huffed.

"Remember Carrots, we're all just big kits. Growing older is mandatory, growing up is optional." Nick's face slowly grew pensive. "Tomorrow, I think, we get to do some more growing up."

"About that Nick, you and that paleontologist managed to write a seriously disturbing report. I know you hate paperwork. She must have been very believable to get you to collaborate and make this so persuasive."

"When a professional gets freaked out by evidence within their specialty, it's wise to listen to them. Doctor Soren just reinforced a lot of what I already suspected about how fragile society really is."

Their final tram stop was close to the clinic entrance. They were spotted as soon as they disembarked by a white-tailed deer that pushed a wheelchair. Judy exchanged smiles with the attendant as she blocked Nick's attempted evasion and pointed him to the seat with her hoof. "Policy," she said gleefully as the fox frowned and sat.

As she started to push the humiliated fox inside, Judy waved goodbye and mimed a phone call to him. Someone there would see him home, and after last night she felt it was better they stay in their own places.

The sun was still high enough to give her time to walk home and think things over. A little under a mile back down Herd, then two more over on Oak would get her close and avoid the congestion near the precinct and city hall. For the moment, afternoon traffic both vehicular and pedestrian wasn't heavy enough to be a distraction.

Judy had to admit that most of what she passed illustrated Nick's observations quite well. A myriad of small mammal dwellings were built under and into the foundations, porches, and stairs of many larger ones, with more—certainly for squirrels or bats-just under the rooftop gardens of others. The mixed-size housing tended to be in complexes of like buildings with suspended runways strung between, and covered or marked walkways separated from the main sidewalks. Safety measures achieved through division of sizes.

Often she passed a whole miniature street with vehicles in the narrower alleys between structures. They usually spanned a full block between the larger streets, and had ramps near the ends that connected with the subterranean road network.

That was a constant problem for both city hall and the ZPD. Some of the smallest mammals wanted the city to rapidly expand that limited network; others continued to assert their rights to use the same surface roads as everybody else. Although discouraged, it had always been legal, but there was constant lobbying for more segregated lanes and intersection bypasses due to the elevated accident rate. Zootopia's Public Works budget debates were legendary for their acrimony.

Judy edged closer to the hoof care boutique she walked past to make way for a pair of Gemsbok as they approached. They politely went in trail for a few steps to not crowd her, and the three females exchanged brief smiles. Still, it was a reminder of another perennial cause of disagreement between those of disparate size. It had long been codified that the responsibility to see and avoid in public always rested with the smaller mammal—for very practical reasons of visibility-that ceded their right-of-way to the larger. You're an example of that, bunnycop. She was probably more often at risk of severe injury from large pedestrians and traffic than from any criminal activity. She gave silent thanks to her quick reflexes for several past saves.

Traffic and shadow filled the street in front of the Grand Pangolin Arms by the time Judy arrived. Ruddy sunlight skimmed over the building opposite to color the top floor of the four-story apartment block. It looked fairly well kept outside, as its size and proximity to downtown and Savanna Central Square meant the city kept an eye on its appearance. However, the inside more accurately showed its age.

She unlocked and opened her now silent door. When she'd returned from what Chief Bogo referred to as 'your extended leave of absence,' her neighbor Pronk had come over to oil the raspy lock and hinges to, as he put it, 'make your re-occupancy less annoying'. At least he'd laughed when she'd suggested oiling his mouth for the same reason.

By the time Judy had showered and changed, dusk was well advanced and a text from Nick was in her phone. She sat at her lone table and opened the message.

Swelling dn. Ultrasnd better than exp. Can ditch crutch in day r 2. sore.

He'd also redundantly typed out his number, followed by:

Suicide hotline, call if u need help.

That gave her a smile knowing he was coping, and she amused herself by dutifully entering the number. It rang several times and went to voicemail.

"We're sorry, all of our lines are busy," said a familiar unctuous foxy voice. "Please postpone your existential crisis until the next councilor is available."

She selected his contact and this time he picked up immediately. "How'd it go Nick?"

"They're calling it a class two strain, not a tear. I just have to take it easy for another week. More therapy only if I think I need it. Got another text, our meeting with Soren got pushed back 'til nine thirty, Bogo wants to see us first."

"Maybe he's started to look into this," Judy said, certain it probably wasn't good if he wanted first crack at them tomorrow. "Since it's Friday, my parents will call if I don't call them first. It's also about time for mom's introductory profile of the latest buck-of-the-month. Better get it out of the way."

"Sounds enchanting. Try not to get hot and bothered, you need your sleep."

"Hardly. Mom doesn't realize it, but she's doing a pretty good job of immunizing me against those bucks back home." Her sensitive ears focused more intently on her iPhone; was that a subtle hitch she'd heard in the fox's breath?

Judy turned off the light, but there was enough illumination from the window behind her bed to be a more than adequate nightlight. That was one of the things she missed most about home in Bunnyburrow-no dark night sky. The dome of light pollution over Zootopia banished all but the brightest stars from view.

She opened the bottom drawer in her dresser and scooped out one more plushie by feel to add to the collection of rabbits on her bed. She jumped up to lay on her back among them, pulled her sheet up partway, and then gathered and arranged her surrogate kin close by.

ZPD officer Judith Laverne Hopps held up her latest acquisition, recent enough that she hadn't yet removed the materials tag from his...tail area. The store had a larger version that she couldn't quite bring herself to purchase—with the cop-out justification that this one had more properly colored polyester fur. It was also a more easily hidden guilty comfort. She ruffled its fuzzy torso with her thumb—you plushie pervert, whispered her internal moral guardian. He has pants; she sub-vocalized back, and balanced the toy fox on her stomach.

She felt for and examined several bunnies before she found a gray one and carefully braced it with her paw facing the fox. They were about the same size, equal and mutually acceptable in the world of her dim room. Her breath made the small figures slowly nod back and forth.

Relationships, limits, propriety: they'd discussed that about others, yet Nick had focused on her when he'd said, "none of us would" in that...wistful voice. Earlier, he'd flat out said that his prime motivation was to protect her—with a look like she was the only thing that could ever matter to him. They worked together seamlessly, relaxed together comfortably; he even let you hug his tail as long as you needed to... When they'd reconciled under the bridge last year, he'd been ecstatically happy immediately afterwards.

Judy, that fox sees you as far more than a friend or partner; more like a... She dared not acknowledge the word as the crush in her chest returned.

This would be far, far worse than a Fangmeyer and Wolfard affair. This wouldn't just rip them away from family; this would affect anyone who'd ever associated with them. Public opprobrium would be a rabid monster. She sniffled, then started to whimper, and the plushies wobbled—her paws tightened to steady them, then apparently of their own volition tipped them so their muzzles touched and gently rubbed against each other. She caught her breath momentarily and stared at the two toys with a mix of fear and longing. The dam finally broke; she rolled over and scattered several other plushies, then buried her face in the pillow to cry herself out.

I can never let him know how his feelings would be reciprocated. It would release his last self-constraints and destroy us both.

Judy didn't know if she was strong enough to reject him and try to save him from himself. Her paw fumbled for and tucked the fox plush beneath her, away from invisible, judgmental eyes.

No, it's too late; he's already chosen you, a different internal voice confided. He's yours if you want him.