A shortened update this time around. Writer's block really did me in, and I also wanted the next part to be a standalone chapter.
-Guest: Glad you gave Archangel a glance even though it's not your thing. And it would seem you weren't the only reader caught off guard by the switch to Judy. They say you can never have too much of a good thing, but I think the Nickzelle chapters have more weight when they're balanced with other essential characters. Anyway, I'm so happy the little twist with Raiona's backstory landed with you! The lioness is just too fun to write, I had to find a way to get her more involved! Here's hoping she won't butt heads with Judy too much on this unauthorized case. Great as always to see you here, and I hope this return to our favorite couple finds you well. ^^
-Prismatic Floof: A very dialogue heavy chapter, indeed. Adele was a welcome addition to the cast of characters, I'm very fortunate ZHAD allowed me to use her. And it won't be the last time, I promise you that! Yes, it would appear that Raiona did have a lover at one point. Who it was, we may or may not find out. Stay tuned.
-Spirallira17: If anyone was ever deserving of a love-hate relationship, it's Commander Raiona. Still, my hope is that with this and future chapters, readers will begin to understand why she is the way she is. Yep, word of Nick and Gaz's relationship is traveling fast, and things will only get crazier from here. Thanks for the review!
-A5TRON4UTA: These reviews keep getting longer and longer, and I love it! I'm glad you thought a Judy chapter was the right call. If anything, I felt it strange not to return to her character after her hasty retreat from the rainforest district. Plus, it gave me an excuse to introduce Bikorn Adele and to delve deeper into everyone's favorite unsavory feline, Raiona Lionheart! Yes, that reveal has been on my mind for some time, and I'm elated it landed so well with you! Furthermore, the lioness managed to mend her grievances with Judy and even form an uneasy alliance. I think the duo will learn a lot from each other, despite their differences.Your character analyses of Judy and her motivations are, as per usual, spot on. Even with all the uncertainty this whirlwind relationship brings, Nick would never, ever leave his partner behind. Yes, Raiona is quite harsh on her father. But if her initial hatred of Judy is anything to go by, we know the feline isn't the greatest at judging mammals fairly—especially those she feels have wronged her. To address the questions you had about my reworking of earlier chapters, my goal is only to polish my flow, grammar, tone, and formatting. I may make a few revisions to dialogue and descriptors as needed, but rest assured, there will be no major alterations to the plot. Thank you again for this amazing review, yours are always such a pleasure to read.
-Zaeva: Always nice to see you back here. Yes, the cat's out of the bag with Raiona's family (no pun intended), and I'm very glad to hear you enjoyed it!
-NamelessMindTheImmaterium: Thank you so much for the kind words! I hope this and future chapters continue to captivate and delight you. ^^
-Pyrus Dragonoid: I will consider writing a sequel in the future. As for marriage between Nick and Gazelle, I cannot confirm or deny it at this point!
*Special thanks to these wonderful authors for beta reading this and previous chapters*
-I Write Big, imjustagurl, Starless echoes, Smthnborrowediamblue
As always, please enjoy this chapter and I'll see you on the next one! -Wilde
Chapter XI
~Of Cuts and Cattleyas~
-9:00 AM, Cima del Cielo-
Over granite peaks that sought desperately to bind the morning tide, daybreak spilled across the hidden villa. It arrived through the windows like a calvary charging unto shadow, glinting across the clothing-strewn floor and the tangled mess of sheets atop the bed.
Emerging from this bedraggled fabric were a pair of spiraling horns, and not far below, a long, bushy tail. Two distinct bodies merged into one chimeric form.
As the dawn settled into her eyes, Gazelle couldn't help but whine in annoyance. Here she was in her alpine sanctuary, dozens of miles away from any semblance of her celebrity, and yet the spotlight continued to follow her. She pulled the covers over her head with a delirious huff, and for a few precious moments, returned to darkness.
The singer could feel the familiar palms at her waist; sense her partner's strength and yearning through them even in rest. She comforted in the way his scent made her melt and shiver simultaneously, and how his embrace sent memories of an eventful past evening hurtling through her mind.
Eventually, a lack of breathable air sent her back into the light. On the nightstand she could make out the screen of her alarm clock, its florescent green digits blinking at an almost frantic pace.
Tick
Tick
Tick
Gazelle lifted her head, a disbelieving gape written across her expression. "Three hours late?" she chided herself. "Dios, mami. What's gotten into you?"
Then she remembered, and she blushed.
The soreness lingering in her body gave plentiful credence to the voracity of their deeds. But the details mattered little. For she only cared that Nick had given himself unequivocally to her. And she had given herself unequivocally to him. Two of the most unlikely mammals, unified in body and in spirit.
With a gentle push and a wince, the singer shifted her body against the headboard. Nick barely moved, except for a few comatose twitches from one of his ears and an incoherent murmur from his lips. Gazelle couldn't resist taking a moment to appreciate the sight.
Curled about himself, Nick was clutching her with both arms and legs. His lipstick smeared face nestled across her abdomen; his muzzle bent into a dorky grin that spelled peace at dreams the popstar could only imagine.
"He looks so cute…" she thought fondly as she watched him. "All that bravado and gallivanting, and he sleeps like a kit."
She threaded her fingers through the cream-colored tuft on his chest, and comforted in every detail of his expression, from snarled fur to sleep filled eyes. His mouth hung open ever slightly, revealing those pearly sabers behind darkened lips.
She lowered her face to his, and into his ear, whispered, "Good morning, love."
"Mmn…" Nick stirred, responding with a weary, "G'morning, gorgeous…"
He let out a dramatic yawn and stretched his limbs, all while searching for the artist with inebriated fingers.
Gazelle smiled and led his paw to her cheek.
"How did you sleep?"
"Pretty good… I had a crazy dream I was dating a popstar."
Gazelle laughed softly, leaning into his touch. "How strange. The altitude must be messing with your head."
Nick smirked at receiving a dose of his own sarcasm from the singer.
"You may rest, darling," she continued, "I need a shower, but I won't be long."
The vulpine immediately tightened his grip on her waist.
"Come on, zorro… It's late, and my fur smells like fox."
"Mmph… And mine smells like gazelle," he moaned into her midriff. "Is that such a crime?"
To which the singer purred, "You're more than welcome to join me, Nicholas."
That shut him up quickly. For several long seconds he weighed the popstar's offer. "To sleep in, or to take a shower with Gazelle…" Never in his life had there been a more sadistic dilemma.
"Mmkay… Five more minutes. I'll be there." Nick capitulated with a reluctant yawn. He rolled onto his opposite shoulder, freeing the singer, and all without having opened his eyes once.
"You nocturnal mammals…" Gazelle stifled a giggle and kissed his nose. "Nothing a strong decoction can't fix."
She stretched her arms and spine. Then, swinging her legs off the bed with confidence, she rose briskly to her feet.
"Ah!"
The singer let out an audible gasp from that sudden, aching pain radiating through every bone. She felt as though she'd been thrashed by a bus. Several times. She limped towards the bathroom, wobbling awkwardly like a child learning her first steps.
When she finally made it there, Gazelle paused against the marbled vanity. She recoiled at her own reflection, seeing the ruffled fur, innumerable magenta markings, and frizzled mat of hair hanging across her face. To her, the animal in the mirror more closely resembled a savage beast than Zootopia's queen of pop.
"Ay de mí… You really overdid yourself, zorro," She huffed, craning her neck to assess those elliptical blemishes further. Of course, the singer knew how to mask them with foundation and fur dye, she just had to make sure she didn't miss any.
So, she twirled about. And what she found instead nearly sent her jaw into the floor.
"Oh. My. God."
With trepidatious fingers, Gazelle ventured a palm against her flank, brushing against the three large gashes there. They were superficial wounds, but wounds, nonetheless.
She tugged on her horns and groaned. She had an upcoming performance! And a revealing stage outfit to boot! She couldn't just slap makeup over her haunches and call it good, unless she wanted to flash Nick's fresh claw strikes to everyone in Sahara Square.
"Because that would be one heck of a way to announce my relationship with him," Gazelle grumbled as she stepped into the shower basin.
She twisted the knob, and from the ceiling a gentle deluge flowed over her. She raked her fingers through her hair and fur, allowing the water to carry her annoyance and stagnant passion down the drain. Moments like these reminded Gazelle of just how much she loved to be clean. Relief took her like a wave, and with a soothing breath, the popstar closed her eyes.
Then the thought came back to her.
"How do I announce my relationship with Nick…?"
It was a simple question with a not-so-simple answer.
She had spent her entire adult life in the limelight. Nick, on the other hand, had never known fame. Nor did he appear to desire it. Perhaps that's why the singer felt guilt in her heart. She understood better than anyone how his life was going to change.
As she frisked shampoo, bodywash, and conditioner into her fur, Gazelle's ears flickered with concern.
No matter how the romance was revealed, a media frenzy was inevitable. Pawparazzi would set upon the fox like a pack of rabid wolves, hastily followed by tabloid publications and badgering requests for interviews. In this way, Nick's duties as a police officer would be impossible to carry out. He'd probably be relegated to some desk job out of the public eye.
Just the thought of him, hunched over a computer in a darkened cubicle, alienated from the world and cursing the day he gave up his freedom, brought an ill-contented wrinkle to her nose.
Then there was his safety. Despite her efforts to reconcile it with herself, the singer knew that every day he donned those navy blues, she couldn't protect him. The potential for disaster would always loom. Nick accepted this risk readily, as did his peers. But for her, the thought of losing him elicited a pain so familiar and vile she could hardly bear to stomach it.
"Gacela, idiota! Get a grip!" her conscience hissed, cursing her stupidity to the sting of supple flesh. She hadn't even noticed the soapy froth surging into her wounds.
With frantic paws she cleansed the area, driving those suds away like the anxieties swirling through her head. She felt disgusted with herself for having ever entertained them.
No, she needed to be strong. She had promised to lead each day with him hand in hand, like steps in a delicate dance. This promise, she would keep.
Steadying a breath, Gazelle finished rinsing her fur and turned the water off. Only then did she notice the dense fog curling through the air.
She waded towards the ceiling fan and turned it on. She swiped her fingers across the mirror, and in the hazy gap, found two emeralds reflecting back at her.
"Buen día, cariño."
From the way his body hung against the doorframe, she could tell Nick had willed every last ounce of energy to claw his way out of bed.
"Please, God, don't tell me I missed it…" the fox huffed, his pupils still adjusting to the light sweeping around him.
"As a matter of fact, you did," she replied, trying not to laugh at his bed head. "Water's still warm though."
Nick looked as though he'd been stabbed in the chest.
"You will survive without me, zorro."
He snorted in protest. "Could I tempt you into going for round two?"
"Round two in the shower? Or round two of something else?" The singer raised a brow.
"Do I… Get to choose?"
She responded by throwing her towel playfully into his face. "You'll need this."
Nick pulled it into his palms and grumbled, "This is cruel. And it is unfair."
"Hey, you snooze, you lose."
Gazelle hinged at the waist and bent over, intending to tease him as she lathered her fur with floral scented moisturizing oil.
But Nick was busy eyeing other features.
"Did I do that?" He gaped, pointing to the ferocious-looking cuts curled about her flank.
She craned her neck around, as if to confirm her wounds hadn't suddenly disappeared.
"Yeah, I think you did."
"Holy shit. Are you okay?" Nick's ears sank, and his usual sardonic tone pervaded with genuine concern. "I don't know what came over me last night, Gaz. And with your concert coming up, I should've known better! I'm so sorr—"
"Nick, mi amor, I am fine! They are scratches, not broken bones."
"Doesn't matter," he shook his head, very clearly embarrassed. "It's not like me to leave marks like… Those."
"Don't flagellate yourself, zorro. I won't heal any faster." She took his paws in hers and squeezed them, before adding with a smirk, "Besides. Would it be weird to say I kind of like them?"
"You—" Nick stumbled, his face flushing beet red, "—You like them?"
"I think they look hardcore," Gazelle snickered, thrusting out her hip with a theatric flip of her hair. "You know, in a grunge meets heavy metal, type of way. Add fishnet stockings and a studded necklace, and I'd fit right in."
He couldn't tell whether or not she was being serious. But seeing the singer flaunt her stuff like that instantly had Nick feeling a little less sorry about the situation. And though he tried his darndest to keep his tail from wagging, it seemed to have a mind of its own.
"You like the way it sounds, Nicholas?" the singer giggled, taking note of him with mischievous eyes.
Nick slung that towel around his waist as fast as his bristling arms would let him.
"Actually, I think you look plenty hardcore in sequin dresses." he gave her a joking smirk. "I'd shell out to see you kicking the grunge scene in one of those."
The singer laughed and went back to her reflection.
"We both know that crowd doesn't take too kindly to glitz and glam, amor."
The fox did know that. Finnick used to drag him to underground performances all the time when they were teenagers.
"You still planning on taking that shower?" Gazelle asked, as if to casually remind him he still reeked of intimacy.
Nick shook his head vehemently.
"Not a chance. I think I'm gonna wear you on my fur instead, and then give your manager a great, big hug."
She chuckled, knowing Aneska would probably have an aneurism if he tried.
"Dios zorro, you want to get us both killed?"
"I'm already living on borrowed time, Gaz," he shrugged, snaking his arms around her hips like a rust-colored belt. "Commander Raiona's gonna punch my ticket the moment we arrive in Sahara, remember?"
"Mm. She will try, but she won't get far."
The risqué smirk she gave him sent the fox's ears soaring.
"I'm counting on it," he replied, his expression blended between caution and excitement. "So… Round two, then?"
"You really are a bad influence, you know that?"
"I never purported to be anything else."
Nick's self-assurance was infuriating, but oh-so magnetic. Gazelle's ears fluttered as she lowered herself, her lips brushing against his in a soft, teasing kiss.
"Keep your claws to yourself this time. Or I'll punch your ticket for you."
Their shower lasted until the water ran cold.
With clean bodies and breathless smiles between them, the duo padded into the kitchen. Gazelle adjusted her oversized tee and stood by the coffee machine, her ears twitching at the delightful siss when she turned the device on. In minutes she was sipping on a dark roast, savoring the astringent taste with a long exhale through her nostrils. It was no arabica variety, to be sure, but it would do well to rouse them.
She waited patiently for Nick to wrest his sopping uniform from the pool, which he eventually did with a huff and a victorious grin.
"Your clothes will be dry enough for your shift?" she asked through the doorway, watching the fox lay his dampened garments across a pair of wicker chairs.
"Let's hope so. Otherwise I'll have no choice but to make my patrol in this."
He tugged on the elastic band of those iconic, glittering shorts, letting it snap against his waist with a roll of his eyes.
"They make you look foxy," the singer chortled. "And it's the only outfit I have that fits you."
"Foxy," He snorted, adding with a self-deprecating smirk,"how pejorative."
Nick joined her against the countertop, and when she offered him a mug of his own, he accepted it gratefully.
They remained there for some time, and with uniquely few words. The fox spent his minutes between long sips, his attention glided between the rising sun and the rarest traces of silver in the singer's golden eyes. And though Gazelle pretended not to notice each covert glance from him, she couldn't help but smile.
"This is nice," he said eventually, breaking the silence.
"Yeah," she nodded and swirled the contents of her cup. "Almost feels… Normal."
Normal. The word sounded so comforting yet so strange when she said it.
"Feels right," he exhaled with a tune of satisfaction, finishing the last of his coffee in one go. "So, what's our angle?"
His directness had caught her off guard.
"Our angle?"
"When we go back to Zootopia," he clarified, calmly. Watching her.
Gazelle looked a bit dazed. She paused and took a hasty drink from her mug. Kept her lips obscured as she wondered how to reply to those emeralds.
"It depends. What do you want to happen?"
She'd flipped his question, and with an answer subtly guarded. Nick noticed immediately but raised no alarm. Only traced the faded pattern on his glass; pale-blue flowers on a curling vine. Orchids.
His eyes flitted to where he'd left his package from the evening before. It was still there. Just out of arm's reach.
"Gazelle," his voice was gentle.
"Yeah?"
"You trust me, right?"
She folded her arms at her chest and gave an honest nod.
"I trust you, Nick… I do."
"Then stop worrying. Please."
"Who said I was worried?" the corners of her mouth constricted slightly at his words.
Nick's mug rang crisp against the countertop when he placed it there. His empty hands found hers, and he smiled.
"Gaz, you try hard to be a closed book, but you wear your heart on your sleeve."
She grumbled but didn't contest the assertion. His touch was too quieting for that.
"I'm all in. Okay?" he continued, "what we have is difficult, and crazy, and weird. I know that. But it's not fruitless. It's worth fighting for."
He reached for the tall package still resting on the counter, and he pressed it carefully into her grasp.
"You are worth fighting for. And for me that's all that matters."
The singer's features softened as she converged on the unexpected gift before her.
"Your secret weapon?"
"Mhm," he nodded. "So you know my words are true."
"I know your words are true, my love," she spoke softly, her fingers tracing the uneven surface where Raiona had ripped the cardboard. "I chose this relationship. I chose you…"
She pried away the flaps with grace, and Nick watched as she ventured a wary gaze into the darkness.
Deep, green leaves. Gazelle's ears fell, and her eager grin dwindled as she realized what was staring back at her. Frail, blue petals. Her expression conjugated across several emotions: fondness, disbelief, dread.
"Nick, is that…"
"A Cattleya orchid," he confirmed, sweeping his tail.
She slid the box away. Let it fall carelessly to the floor as the she looked into the heart of that delicate flower.
"How… How did you…"
"It wasn't an easy find," the fox said, melding along the countertop with a prideful shrug. "Thankfully, I have some very helpful friends."
She glanced the petals with her fingertips. The orchid felt silky, cold to the touch as she remembered it. Painfully.
"You always speak so fondly of your family. Of Bearranquilla. And after you used your sister's name at the Thaw, I thought that if I gave you this, home wouldn't feel so far away…"
Suddenly Nick's voice began to sound very distant, his words suffocated against wailing electric guitars and beating electrocardiograms. Willfully forgotten memories of an unwelcome past.
Suddenly she was spiraling. Drowning in snowfall and strobing lights. Her eyes darted across her skull, but she couldn't move. The Cattleya slipped into obscurity; its petals veiled behind silver irises brighter than the moon. Her heart snared against her chest, her lungs inspiring but not breathing. Her ears flickered violently. The singer wanted to cover them.
"Gazelle!"
CRASH!
Gazelle's mug shattered across the kitchen floor into thousands of pieces, painting white marble in black coffee all around them. She gasped and recoiled from the shock, but Nick held her there. He was gripping her wrists, hanging onto them for dear life as if to keep her from slipping any further.
"N-Nick?" his name left her lips, broken.
The fox's ears flared uneasily atop his head, his expression tensed and bristled. It took him several, long moments to temper the confusion rollicking through his mind, and several moments more to realize the gravity of what had happened. Slowly, he found his voice. And in it, he brought all his strength and calm to bear.
"I'm here, Gaz… I'm not going anywhere."
The resilience in her expression faltered. Then it failed.
"I'm so sorry," it was all she could get out before the tears overtook her.
He was ready for it. With a touch more tender than a kiss, Nick drew the singer into his embrace and let her sob. And she did, harder than she'd ever sobbed before. The fox did everything he knew to console her. He wasn't particularly good at it, but he remembered what his mother had done with him so many years ago.
"I'm staying here," his voice was soft. "Everything is okay."
He repeated those words over and over again as he ran his fingers along her fur. He held her head against his shoulder, and he breathed calmly and deeply so that the singer could follow.
"I'm sorry," she quavered into him. "T-the flower is beautiful, so beautiful."
"Don't be sorry," He continued to hold her, feeling each subsiding tremor as though it were his own. "It was a panic attack. Wasn't your fault."
"You— You have them?"
"Sometimes, yes," he confessed.
"I don't."
She almost sounded ashamed. The fox could feel her tears bleeding through him.
"Then… Let me understand," he implored as he combed through her golden hair. "Please. Whatever it is you're dealing with, you don't need to suffer it alone."
She just shook her head.
"It's what I deserve, zorro."
"That's not true. Don't say that," he tightened his grip on her, his tone both chiding and empathetic.
"You don't understand."
"Why?"
Gazelle hesitated. Her gaze drifted to the shattered mug on the floor, like remnants of a life she couldn't ever hope to salvage.
"Because my family… They're gone because of me."