Disclaimer: Zootopia and all Canon characters are owned by Disney. All other characters, product names, trademarks, and copyrights belong to their respective owners.

…..

"Seriously, do you have any idea how stereotypical-cop eating that is?"

"Nope, coffee first, doughnuts number two. These, meh, maybe number five," said Nick, handing Judy one of his Twinkies. "Unless we come back Saturday when they've got their deep fryers going, then absolutely number one."

Judy rolled her eyes as she nibbled on her treat.

"Good, huh?" said Nick, unwrapping an extra he'd bought from the chipmunks setting up their Carrot Days booth.

"Mm-hmm."

"What do you think for Saturday? We hit the funnel cakes first, then over to the French toast on a stick booth, grab some blueberry snow cones at that arctic hare's setup, and if we're not too sick to our stomachs, slab sandwiches at the Turducken stand."

"Eww," said Judy, making a face, "A blueberry cone? No way, I want a strawberry banana snow cone with my Vegducken."

Nick raised a brow.

"Deep-fried," whispered Judy.

"That's my girl! Now, after we do all the rides twice, that row of booths over there will be the best for post-nausea food."

"Nick," said Judy, licking the last little bits of sticky yellow cake off her fingers, "we're supposed to be on patrol, not scoping out a complicated food run."

"Au contraire, oh fuzzy one, a solid food plan is a necessity. Especially with the number of hungry mammals expected to descend on this year's festival like locusts on a cornfield."

"You mean a solid Junk food plan."

"You say– mm-hmm."

"Come on," said Judy, holding Nick's muzzle closed. "Mom always says we're supposed to eat our growing food first before we have any treats, so be a good fox and add the Hopps family vegetable booth to your list."

Nick rolled his eyes.

"I hear you rolling your eyes."

Nick tickled Judy's side with his tail until she giggled and let go of his muzzle.

"Hey, Colton," chirped Judy, "Nice spot this year."

"Hey Jude, would you guys grab the sign over there and attach the legs to the small booth there."

"Sure," said Judy, as Nick grabbed a large sign plank with two 2x4 legs, and the both of them slid the legs into mounting brackets on the side of a wooden booth with a string of pink heart-shaped flags hanging from under the tabletop's edge.

"KISSES?" asked Nick, looking up at the kit-painted sign with lots of hearts surrounding the lettering.

"Yeah," chuckled Colton, "A kissing booth. Amy thought it up a few years ago and ran it most of the time, but this year, she's gotten all weird and doesn't want to do it. So, Sunni's drawn up a shift schedule and is looking for volunteers.

"How about you, Nick? As much as all the girls keep looking this way, I bet you'd make a pretty penny for the clinic."

"The clinic? I thought all the fundraising for that was happening Friday at the farm."

"Nope, a bunch of the families here are all donating a portion of their earnings to the clinic, and a few are doing some add-ons as mini-fundraisers. We figured Amy always made a ton, so why not donate all that cash to the clinic."

"Well…," said Nick. "They say charity starts at home, so…"

"No," replied Judy for Nick.

"No?"

"No, you're busy," said Judy with her paws on her hips. "Very busy not letting other girls kiss you."

"It's for charity," countered Nick.

"No."

Colton shrugged and looked at his sister, "How about you?"

"Me?" said Judy with a smile.

"Oh, hell no!" said a bushy red-furred wall standing between Judy and Colton.

"But, it's for charity," pouted Judy poking around said chastity wall. "How else will we raise money for poor Doc Stoan?"

Colton smiled as he said, "She's got a point."

Judy giggled.

Nick huffed, "Add more decorations and make it a picture booth. Your NON-kissing volunteers can take pictures of couples pretending to meet at the kissing booth. You can have Sunni and crew draw up some 'Award Winning Kissers' certificates and sell the pictures and certificates for a few bucks each."

Judy smirked as she thought over Nick's plan.

Colton picked up his phone, "Okay. If you're sure that's the right way to go, I'll pass the word."

"I'm very sure, no Carrot's kisses, at all.

"And tell Mom we'll be back at the Warren after lunch to help with the talent show set up," added Nick as he took Judy's paw and guided her as far away from the kissing booth as he could get her.

"Later, Nick," said Colton to the fox's back. And then, reaching under the kissing booth table, Colton checked to see how many certificates Sunni's litter had done and how many cartridges of instant film they had for the camera he'd rented yesterday.

-/-/-

"How are you feeling?" asked Janae, carefully checking over the claw marks on Dalton's chest and sniffing at his healing bruises.

"I don't know," chuckled Dalton, "how about you tell me."

…..

Janae was packed and ready to go, Dalton less so. His luggage was sitting next to hers, but he was upstairs rummaging around in his bedroom for something he'd forgotten.

Males.

Janae checked the time on her phone. They weren't late yet, but according to her schedule on how long it would take to drive her and Dalton home in time for lunch, late was coming up fast.

Then, a groan followed by coughing, which Janae's ears tracked like radar dishes.

Janae's foot tapped a nervous rhythm.

Another cough, and Janae was in Dalton's bedroom glaring him onto his bed, shirtless, so that she could examine him.

…..

"The swelling from the bruises is almost completely gone. But from the sounds of your breathing, your ribs are going to need another couple of days of healing. Your arm smells like it's healing okay, so I'm good with Doc Stoan putting you in a half-cast this morning, but I think he's being overly conservative about removing your stitches. I'm thinking no more than ten days, not two weeks like he said.

Sitting up on the side of the bed, Dalton kissed his worried bunny until her ears finally relaxed from their high-alert health surveillance of him. "You heard Doc Stoan. I'm healing up fine, and as long as I take it easy, I'll be done with these stitches and ready to compare scars with a drunken sailor in no time."

"Although it was kind of funny that he was looking at you when he told me to take it easy. Were you planning something vigorous I need to know about?"

Janae huffed, "Not anymore."

Smiling again, Dalton used his good arm to pull a long black felt box out of his back pocket and held it out for Janae.

Janae's eyes went wide as her paws covered her muzzle, and she said, "For me?"

"Yes," but as Janae's paw reached out, Dalton awkwardly captured it with his from his casted arm and said, "I had this made for you before I was hurt. But, I didn't know if I should give it to you or not because…"

Taking a breath and rubbing Janae's paw with his thumb, Dalton said, "I love you more than anything, but I know that with our families living here in Bunnyburrow and how some of the old-timers might react, us getting mated right now is probably a bad idea."

Janae nodded as she tried to pull her paw off the velvet case.

Dalton gently wrapped her paw around his gift.

"I may not be able to officially ask you to be my mate right now, but I can make you a promise that I will be asking you someday soon, and with my whole heart and soul, I'll be hoping you say yes."

Janae sniffed as she whispered, "I love you too, heart and soul and everything I am. When you ask, I promise the answer will be yes."

Dalton lifted his paw off Janae's so she could open the case.

Janae carefully opened the lid and, gently taking out a necklace, held it up so they both could see…

And laughed.

Dalton smiled, "It's a promise necklace. And a reminder of how we got together."

Janae, still chuckling, put the necklace on and, after gently giving her future mate a kiss, took his paw and asked, "I can't remember. How vigorous did Doc Stoan say is too vigorous?"

Not getting a coherent answer, Janae pushed Dalton back onto his bed, and cuddling up next to him, she read the engravings on the two small white gold fire extinguisher charms joined together by their hoses.

'Janae Dalton Forever'

-/-/-

"You're kind of quiet. Is everything okay?"

"I'm fine," replied Olivia, looking out the car window as Connor made his way onto the expressway.

Gunning his Zoobaru, Connor sighed. Last night, when Olivia had gotten the last-minute invite for lunch at her father's golf club, Connor quickly agreed and asked Olivia to say yes, even before asking Bogo for the day off.

He needed a day off from the drug case. And after yesterday, maybe a week.

He'd spent the last week feeling useless while combing through the rubble of the drug lab, looking for anything that might help with figuring out what this psycho terror group was up to: hard drives, USB sticks, notebooks, anything that could give a clue. Unfortunately, whoever designed the self-destruct must have enjoyed blowing things up as much as Hopps did because there wasn't a scrap of paper or anything electronic that wasn't shrapnel shredded or burnt left in the pile of rubble.

Useless, except for the first few days when he helped keep the coroners busy.

'Happy thoughts, happy thoughts. Your mate is sitting next to you and obviously upset.'

Olivia sighed.

And then there was yesterday. He'd shown up at the lab site at his usual time, ready to put his nose to good use looking for clues, when he found the pried open door to an underground bunker. Pried open from the outside because it had been blown shut by the explosion, not paw closed and locked as it was designed. He'd sniffed around and found food and water supplies, and the faintest possible smell of Porcus blood on the inside of the door and on the bunker floor as if a cleaner had wiped the bunker down.

He was about to raise the alarm that a mammal might have been found and gone missing when he sniffed out a familiar scent on the lone table in the bunker, a scent strong enough and fresh enough that it wasn't there by accident.

He reported everything to Bogo and was later told that another coroner's report was expected and that Bogo had been personally assured that there would be no more cross-jurisdictional interference at his crime scene.

Reaching over, Connor put his paw on Olivia's and said, "I'm sorry. I'd hoped your mom would be a little more excited about the news than my parents were."

Olivia squeezed Connor's paw, saying, "Yeah, at least my mom lasted past the appetizer before walking out on us. And our news."

Connor shrugged, "Baby steps, right?"

Olivia sniffed, "She's worried about what people will think when, when…" Olivia closed her eyes and took a breath, "I'm sorry. This should be a happy time for us, and I'm ruining everything."

"You're not ruining anything," said Connor, squeezing Olivia's paw back. "We'll be fine. Your dad and I talked, and he said he'd smooth things over with your mom."

"You don't understand. The family reputation is everything to her, and us 'playing house' together didn't impact her much, but now that… that…"

Olivia sniffed as she waved her free paw across her middle and said, "…this embarrassment is about to happen."

Connor slid across two lanes just in time to take an off-ramp to an outer road that went by an empty parking lot he took advantage of.

Shutting off the engine, Connor ran around, opened Olivia's door, hugged her, and said, "There's nothing, absolutely nothing embarrassing about what's happening. I thought you made me the happiest mammal in the world when you agreed to be my mate, but that pales compared to how happy I am right this second, here with you."

Olivia cried.

She shook in Connor's arms with him petting her head fur, and ears until she was cried out.

Sniffing, she squeezed Connor tighter and said, "I love you so much."

Sitting on the edge of the seat with Olivia on his lap, Connor hugged her back, "I love you too, and I am truly the happiest mammal in the world."

Olivia rubbed her cheeks across Connors to freshen her mark on him. Then, pressing her lips against his, took a solid couple of minutes to show him how much she loved him.

Breaking the kiss, Olivia blushed and said, "Thanks. You're so perfect. I feel like my hormones are all over the place. One second me and my mom are almost okay, the next, she digs and—"

Connor put a finger to Olivia's muzzle and shook his head.

Olivia rolled her eyes and then licked Connor's finger, which led him to another short make-out session.

"I think your hormones are fine," said Connor once he caught his breath.

"Because the only thing keeping me from jumping your bones right this second is that homeless guy over there?"

Connor shrugged.

"Were you serious when you said my dad was okay with all this?"

"Yeah," nodded Connor, "He loves you and wants you to be happy, even if it means hanging out with a mangy dog like me."

Olivia kissed Connor on the nose and said, "No way he called you a dog, especially not after you gave him that antique barrister's crest you had restored."

Connor smiled, "I found it at a swap meet, but it was McHorn who did the restoration. Who would have thought he was into heraldry and ancient metalworking."

"And Dad said he'd work on my mom?"

"Yeah, he also told me if there's anything he can do to help us when it comes time for all the paperwork to let him know. He said he'd sic an associate or two on whatever we needed."

"Well," purred Olivia, "what I need to be done to me right now is going to have to wait until we get home, which I'm hoping won't take too much longer. If you know what I mean."

"Yes, ma'am," said Connor with a grin, "Assuming no cops, ETA is fifteen minutes."

"Make it ten, and we can do that thing you like," purred Olivia.

-/-/-

"Hi, Grandma. It's Sharla."

Gideon stopped mid-step and, instead of going into his and Sharla's bedroom, leaned against the wall outside the door.

…

"Yeah, he called. That's a little why I'm calling. I really don't need you to keep fixing me up with your friend's grandkits. I'm—"

…

"Gareth? No, I haven't talked with him or Gena in a few weeks. Why?"

…

"Pregnant," said Sharla. "Wow, that's great news. I'll have to call Gareth and give him a hard time for not telling his big sister the good news first."

…

"Grandma, stop. I'm happy with the way things are, so please, no more blind dates. Okay."

…

"Uh-huh, the shop's doing great. Gideon's come up with a few new recipes that everyone loves. Some friends of ours from the City suggested we expand our sales to Zoo—"

…

"Yeah, he's the fox you met when I graduated. We're partners in the bakery, remember?"

…

"Grandma, he's not scaring any eligible rams away. He's the sweetest, kindest, most loving mammal in the whole world."

…

"Grandma, that's rude and speciest to think that foxes would do that. I take care of all the books, and I'm sending a check to Grandpa every month for the loan you gave us, I mean me."

…

"I'm not wasting my youth hanging out with a fox. Gideon is an amazing guy. As a matter of fact, he's so great that I don't need a ram to have my own good news…"

…

Gideon pulled away from the wall and, quickly stepping into the bedroom, sat beside Sharla on the bed.

"I, uh…" started Sharla, feeling Gideon's arm around her. "I—"

Sharla sighed, "My paper on low gravity exercise techniques is getting published in a research journal. I'll send you a copy when it comes out."

…

"Yeah, love you too, Grandma. Bye."

Dropping the phone, Sharla pulled her mate close and cried into his chest.

"I'm so sorry, you must hate me."

Gideon lifted the love of his life into his lap and, hugging Sharla tight, said, "Nuthin' in this world could make me hate you. It ain't in my 'Dunnah.'

Sharla leaned back and, wiping a tear from her eye, looked at her mate trying to unpack what he just said.

After a moment, Sharla smiled and said, "I'm pretty much sure it's pronounced D-N-A."

Kissing Sharla, Gideon replied, "Yes ma'am, but when it comes to lovin' you, no one needs to tell me what I already know."

-/-/-

"Hello, Bonnie. I hope you can forgive this old buck for being so late. The roads out this way are quite frightful for my top of the line Catillac to navigate."

"Emmett," said Bonnie in a cool tone. A tone that would have been cooler still if Emmett Hayes, someone she desperately did not want around her kits or her mate, hadn't called ahead of time about meeting with Stu, giving her enough time to prepare herself for the encounter.

"That's unfortunate about the roads, but they are what they are, and you may want to consider trading in that fancy car of yours for a working buck's truck."

Hayes chuckled as he entered the foyer and handed his light jacket to Bonnie, expecting her to take care of it for him, "No, no, a buck as important as I am to the Burrow can't be seen driving around in something so simple when he's got important things to do, like what I'm hoping Stu and I get done today."

"And what is that, exactly?" asked Bonnie, dropping Hayes' jacket on a chair as she escorted the foul bun to the Warren office where her mate was working.

"Nothing to worry a doe's ears with. By the way, you're looking quite well. How many kits are you up to nowadays? I heard over three hundred; Stu must be quite pleased with your output."

Knocking on the study door, Bonnie ground out, "We love every one of our kits more than you can imagine."

"Come in," came Stu's voice from behind the door.

"I'm sure you do," replied Hayes, opening the door, "and it was very pleasant chatting with you, Bonnie. My mate will be pleased to hear that Stu is keeping you so well-kept."

"Stu, my friend—" was the last thing Bonnie heard before the office door was pushed mostly closed, and she stormed into the kitchen proper to knead, no, strike that, beat some dough into compliance.

…..

"—your farm is looking healthy, productive too, and your mate is attentive as always. I'm very happy for you," said Hayes, walking around Stu's desk.

"Yes, thank you, Emmett," replied Stu, waving toward a chair across from where he was sitting in his easy chair. "Yields are up this year. A few more harvests like this one's going to be will make a big difference to my Warren and hopefully the Burrow."

"Very nice, very nice indeed. The Burrow could use the extra revenue, so many problems that need to be fixed. Don't you think? You and me, we've always been on the same page about a lot of things, and I think now it's no different."

Setting a notebook filled with crop yield calculations on top of another much older book on his end table, Stu said, "I'm guessing you have something on your mind. What is it I can help you with?"

Nodding, Hayes said, "Always direct to the point. That's what I've always liked about you. I needed a bit of help. But first, I need you to be straight with me. I've been seeing a lot of… questionable behaviors coming out of this Warren, behaviors that I'd never have believed you'd allow under your roof."

Stu leaned forward and, in a curt tone, asked, "What exactly are you talking about when you say 'questionable behaviors?'"

"Now, now, I didn't mean to ruffle your ears. I'm just wondering about this fundraiser for the pred clinic that your Warren is hosting Friday and what it might mean to your… loyalties to the decency of Bunnyburrow. If you know what I mean."

Huffing, Stu replied, "You don't have to worry about my loyalties to anything. The Hopps bucks have always taken their responsibilities to the Burrow seriously, and nothing's changed as far as I can tell."

"What about the fundraiser?"

"The prerogative of my oldest buck and eventual heir. Border Warrens have their ways, as do those of us who are Bailey Warren. My son made a decision that I feel compelled to honor regardless of how I feel about it. To override it would be more damaging to the Warren than letting it be, and the counsel I plan to share with Lucas should be enough to put him back on the well-traveled path."

"And your daughters Judith and Janae?" asked Hayes, focusing on Stu's eyes and muzzle for a reaction. "I've already shown you the damage that hare buck is doing to Janae's reputation, and the fox you're allowing to defile your Warren isn't doing your reputation any favors either. Especially in regards to Judith, how in the world will you ever find her a buck willing to take her as a mate when she spends all her time with a pred?"

Hayes saw Stu's eyes narrow, and his nostrils flare as he listened, and bloodless lips press together as he thought about his response.

"I've had my run-ins with predators, and my opinions on them are my own, but I'll have words with Bonnie. It's her task to see to our kits and their prospects."

'He doesn't know about his daughter and how she's dirtying herself with a pred,' thought Hayes. 'A tidbit, if revealed at the right time, could help someone secure his vision for a better Bunnyburrow.'

"Good, good," smiled Hayes, clasping his paws together and shaking them. "I'm happy to hear we are still bucks cut from the same cloth. We have much to do if we want to lead the Burrow to the light and let her grow unhindered by the vermin skulking about. Vermin that need to be chased out of our homes before their infestation grows any more than it already has."

Ears still up but breathing a bit more normally, Stu asked, "So what is it you need? What is it that you want that was worth coming all this way?"

"I've struck a deal with Edwards. We've arranged for my daughter, Courtney, to be mated to one of his boys, and being it's between Border Warrens, I need your help with the mating contract."

"Okay," said Stu, "But I'm a farmer, not a lawyer, so I'm not sure how much I'd be able to help you with a contract, especially a mating contract. I don't recall hearing about anyone in the Burrow ever using one before."

Hayes handed Stu an envelope, "They're Old Law, unique to when there's a mating between members of different Border Warrens. So, say, for example, you and I were both heads of Border Warrens and… Let's see… Yes, I know, say… say that…

"…we've decided that your daughter Judith and my son Everett are to be formally mated right after this year's Carrot Days festival concludes. We agree that Judith will give up her abnormal ways and provide for her new Warren, body, and soul, which includes a generous number of litters. We also agree that the ceremony will be in Conclave Park, where we can invite the whole Burrow to come and witness this almost royal mating ceremony, and," with a paw up and feigning a conspiratorial voice, "the best part is that with a crowd that huge and that magical, neither of our kits will give a thought to backing out at the last second. I'll hire a band, your mate can cook the food, and we'll drink top-notch moonshine until we know the kits have consummated their new relationship. It will be a ceremony for the ages."

"Yes, yes, I agree, that all sounds perfect and more than wonderful…" said Stu, waving his paw.

"…but," chuckling now, Stu continued, "I don't think the Old Law gets itself involved in the specifics of mating ceremonies like the venue, the guest list, and the approved dinnerware patterns. And using Judy as an example is a fool's errand because she's too stubborn to take her mother's advice on a mate, let alone her following whatever rules are written in any book no matter how old and staid."

Glad he'd gotten Stu to relax a little, Hayes nodded toward the envelope and said, "Yes, of course, you're right, and my boy is too traditional of a buck to take on such a non-conforming doe as is your daughter. Be that as it may, because of the responsibilities imparted on the Border Warrens to defend the Burrow, a mating between neighboring Border Warrens must consider and codify who will be the leader if the defenses of the Border Warrens are combined. The Officer in charge if that makes sense. There can only be one Defense Leader of a Warren's forces, or order breaks down, causing the Border Warren to fail in its duty to protect the Burrow because of confusion or conflicting orders."

"A Defense Leader? Why?" said Stu while opening Emmett's envelope, "Why do you care about something that hasn't been needed or even talked about since the time of the Alliance?"

Waving a paw toward the envelope, "The position is Old Law and still has its uses amongst the Border Warrens."

Stu finished opening the envelope and pulled out two documents, one a two-page plain letter-sized computer-printed document written in Common, the other a single sheet of aged legal-sized parchment with elaborate text written in Lapine.

"I had a law firm in New Yak draw up the type-written one. They used the Commonwealth's original copy of the Old Law translation and wrote it out using the language of the time such that an agreed upon dowry and the standard minimum number of litters needed to consummate the mating were codified."

Stu nodded as he read the document typed in Common until he came to the parts Hayes had described and said, " 'One viable litter within the first three years, and a dowry made up of—'" Stu looked up at his friend and shaking his head asked, "Are you sure about this dowry? Besides dowries being archaic, what you're agreeing to would be financially devastating to you if something goes wrong before Courtney and her new mate have a viable litter."

"My lawyers determined that using the minimum performance term of three years gave me the best chance of demonstrating default on the part of Edwards."

Shaking his head, Stu said, "That's not what I was talking about. In the general section on mating, the Old Law states that if a dowry is agreed to, it's forfeited if the payee's charge fails to perform according to the stipulated agreement."

"Yes, I know, that's what my lawyers told me, and it's what I'm counting on. "If either party fails to meet their part of the mating contract, the other party is awarded all that is called out in the contract. So, if the Edwards buck backs out of the mating ceremony, or if the ceremony actually happens and he's unable to sire any kits, I get everything. I'm counting on, first, Edwards being ignorant of what happens if his son doesn't show, and second, if he does show, that, given the health of the entire Edwards clan, the buck is sterile or unable to perform."

Stu sat up straighter and said, "Whoa now, Emmett, I looked at the dowery sections of the Old Law before Bon and I were mated, and it doesn't say anything like that. I think your lawyers may need to brush up on their actual Lapine instead of trusting the Old Law translation because the law on dowries isn't any different for Border Warrens than it is for a Bailey Warren. And with that being the case, if Courtney fails in her agreed-upon duties, you'll be liable for the whole dowery, but if something happens on Mason's side and his boy rejects her or can't sire kits, then the contract is voided, and everything goes back to the way it was before, less a small portion of the dowry Mason gets to keep. So, if you sign this and they fail to have a litter…"

"But that's not what my fool of a lawyer said."

Stu shrugged while Hayes moved around the room, mumbling as he thought to himself, until after a long minute, Hayes nodded once as if he was agreeing with himself and, once done, said…

"Alright, I can figure something out about the dowry and a single litter as long as I can be sure the next part of the contract works in my favor."

Stu read a little more before saying, "I see this contract stipulates that the leadership of the combined forces of the two Border Warrens will fall on the female's paternal line."

"Yes," said Hayes, nodding and smiling, "Once that bastard Edwards signs this and our kits are mated, I'll be in charge of everything as the head of the defense forces, and then I can merge our Warrens and age the old bugger out."

Stu got a look on his face and, retrieving the Old Law book that had been sitting on the table next to him since he'd looked up the Burrow Meister lore a few weeks back, he opened it up to the sections on Border Warrens. Turning a few pages, then a few more, Stu ran his finger down a page of Lapine block script until he came to the relevant sections of code.

"Here it is," said Stu. 'In the case that Border Warren defenses are being joined, the result of the mating shall have only one Defense Leader. The leader will lord over the combined resources of the union to the benefit of the Warrens in defense of the Burrow.'

"You really can read Lapine, I wasn't sure."

"Yes, the Hopps family was an original founding family, and in my family, the oldest usually carries on the legacy of warren knowledge, which requires fluency in Lapine," replied Stu. "So, aside from what we talked about, this contract looks fine. What else do you need from me?"

Hayes pointed at the other document that Stu was holding and said, "Edwards told me the contract has to be written in Lapine to be legally binding between Border Warrens. He had that document drawn up some years back, and before I sign it, I want to know that it says the same thing as what my lawyers drafted up."

Hayes watched as his friend studiously read the Lapine document—

"This references the dowry payment as being an appendix agreement. I'd recommend you not signing anything like that without settling this first. Those kinds of agreements can have a weight all their own."

Hayes grumbled more curses at his lawyers, then waved a paw for Stu to carry on.

Reading further into the document, Stu stopped to check a few sections in his Old Law text, nodded at something in the contract, then reread the full document before finally saying, "It's close."

"Close?" repeated Hayes, "What does that mean?"

"You said that Mason had someone write this for him?"

Hayes nodded, "Yes, some young academic who was studying the Lapine language."

"That makes sense," replied Stu. "If the standard number of litters called out is one within three years, whoever wrote this wasn't exactly fluent in Lapine because they made the same mistake with numbers that I did when I was first learning the language. Lapine is a gendered language where the number emphasis changes based on its scale and sometimes its usage.

"The young academic you mentioned misplaced an emphasis mark on the number text and, by doing that, changed 'one litter in three years' in your lawyer's contract to 'ten litters in three years' in Mason's. So, if Courtney isn't wanting that many litters, you may have a problem using this contract."

Hayes shrugged, "Given what you said about the dowry, one or ten shouldn't make a difference, but I'll talk to her about that. Was there anything else different?"

"Yes, one other thing. Not a mistake, I don't believe, but a similar difference. In Lapine, some words, nouns, and titles in particular, indicate gender by the letter they end with. An 'o' makes it masculine, and an 'a' makes it feminine. Now, the text in this contract is quite ornate, and what I'm seeing could easily be missed by anyone not fluent in Lapine, but if this word here is masculine like I believe it to be, then the defense leadership role would fall on the male's paternal line, not the female's."

"What?"

"Right here," said Stu, pointing to a word ending in an ornate 'o' that was very close to being an 'a' on the Lapine covered sheet of parchment paper. "You might try arguing this is an 'a', but if a case involving this contract were in front of Judge Beans, he'd look to old Mayor Burns or Grandpa Joe, who are both almost as capable at Lapine as I am. So, except for the defense leadership role going to Mason and the number of litters, the two documents are effectively the same."

Hayes stood up, "For this to work, I need to be the one in charge."

"Sorry, Emmett, that's not what the contract Mason gave you says."

"Could you rewrite the contract for me and make it so Edwards would think it's the same one he had done?"

Stu froze for a moment as the look of studious academic drained off his muzzle. Then, slowly turning his head and looking at Emmett Hayes, really looking at him, Stu took in his friend's demeanor. Emmett was keeping himself from thumping his hind paw by rocking slightly in his chair. His ears were up and jerking toward every creak or squeak no matter how slight it was, and Emmett's fingers were twitching as if he were trying to will the changes he needed onto the page of script Stu was holding.

Carefully setting his family's original copy of the Old Law on the table next to him, Stu, now holding the contract pages in front of him, said, "Why is merging your Warren with Mason's so darned important? It can't be for the farmland. Most of it hasn't seen a harvest in over a generation. And as far as I'm aware, there's nothing special about his water rights or his mineral rights, either. Mason has run his place to ruin, and what's left of it isn't worth all this trouble."

Hayes stood and paced a few steps away, then came back and leaned over Stu. "When I was a young buck, my grandfather told me that years ago, the Border Warrens used to train to handle emergencies. Natural and animal, and I don't mean just farm accidents. He also told me that before the Burrow hired its own Sheriff, some Border Warrens tried to build up their Burrow prestige by consorting with the old Commonwealth Marshalls… most of which were the vilest of predators."

Stu's eyes went wide at his friend's words.

"Prestige. Border Warrens have always had it, much more so than any of the Bailey Warrens. And from that prestige comes power. Right now, that power is diluted amongst all the Border Warrens, and every one of them defers to the Gardiners."

"I'm going to change that. With the prestige I'll gain by being the head of the largest Border Warren in Bunnyburrow, I'll be able to change the politics of this town and end the predator scourge that has infected our once great community, and…" smiling ugly now, "finally cleanse away all those who aren't purebred rabbits."

Stu gulped, "Everyone who's not a rabbit, even the hares and picas?"

"Yes," said Hayes, straightening up and waving a paw around. "Especially the hares because I know you're with me on how they've been almost as bad for your family as foxes have."

"Family," stuttered Stu, "Bad like…"

Stu whispered to himself, "…a cowardly pred."

"What?" asked Hayes, looking back toward Stu.

"I… I said, I'm sorry, I'm a farmer, not a calligrapher. I have my dad's old fountain pen there on my desk, and it can do script like you have here, but I don't have any of this kind of parchment paper nor the steady paw it would take to duplicate this document. Sorry."

Glancing at Stu long enough to see him struggle a bit at sliding the contract pages back into the envelope, Hayes spied an old fine-tip fountain pen on Stu's desk and, making his way over there, said, "You're right. I'll talk to Edwards and see what we can work out."

Handing the envelope to his friend, Stu guided him as far as the office door before Hayes turned, shook Stu's paw, and whispered, "This is it, Stu, I can feel it. Everything you, Leapwell, and I ever wanted. With you behind me, I'll be the most powerful buck in the Burrow. And I promise with that power, I'll return Bunnyburrow to what it was before the Commonwealth ever existed, a Burrow built by rabbits, for rabbits."

Then, with a forced smile no trick-or-treater ever wanted to see a second time, Hayes pat Stu on his shoulder and said, "I'll let myself out. Please give my best to your mate."

Stu leaned back against the inner office wall, and letting out a breath he didn't know he was holding, felt his paws shaking. Another breath. Less shaking. Then—

-/-/-

*slap*

"Damned old slimy good for nothing—"

*pound* *slap*

"Output? How dare you call my kits 'output' like I'm some sort of assembly line, and they're wheelbarrows, or tractor parts or something."

*wham* *pound* *slap* *pound*

"I love every one of my kits, and I wouldn't trade a single one of them for all the farms in Bunnyburrow, you old cretin of a buck."

'And what the heck are you talking to my mate about?' thought Bonnie, her flour-covered paws now balled up at her hips. She thought that Stu not throwing a huge temper tantrum over Lucas' decision to host the clinic fundraiser here on the farm had been a turning point for her mate. Now, she wasn't so sure. Stu was harder than ever to read. He still quietly grumbled when Charlie was over with Kristy, huffed at seeing Dalton with Janae, and grimaced when Nicholas came home from work, but so far, no overly loud displays of outrage as to why there seemed to be more mammals outside the rabbit norm inhabiting the Warren.

And, allowing herself a tiny smile, whispered to herself, "Handsome mammals that clearly have their eyes set on your daughters."

*pound* *slap*

If only Stu could be like other fathers and feign being upset at his daughter's boyfriends, accuse them of not being good enough, and maybe even threaten them with neutering by pitchfork if they break a heart, all before showing them the still in the South barn and spending some quality time with them.

*pound* *squeeze* *pound*

'Nope, not my Stu… thickheaded, stubborn, obstinate bun of mine. If only everyone knew you the way I do. The sweet buck I took as my mate, the doting father, and the family provider. What happened to you? Was it Judy getting clawed, Uncle Lewis passing, or your parents? I wish I knew.'

Stepping back from the now compliant, actually fully surrendered dough, Bonnie looked over at the still not fully closed office door and wondered.

'What does that old buck want?'

Silently padding over to the study, Bonnie leaned close, raised an ear, and listened.

"…we've decided that your daughter Judith and my son Everett are to be formally mated right after this year's Carrot Days festival concludes. We agree that Judith will give up her abnormal ways and provide for her new Warren, body, and soul, which includes a generous number of litters. We also agree that the ceremony will be in Conclave Park, where we can invite the whole Burrow to come and witness this almost royal mating ceremony and the best part is that with a crowd that huge and that magical, neither of our kits will give a thought to backing out at the last second. I'll hire a band, your mate can cook the food, and we'll drink top-notch moonshine until we know the kits have consummated their new relationship. It will be a ceremony for the ages."

"Yes, yes, I agree, that all sounds perfect and more than wonderful—"

"MOM!" came Janae's frantic voice from the foyer. Dalton's bleeding out! Help!"

Both of Bonnie's ears twisted around to the new mom-level emergency as she jumped away from the door and landed only a few steps away from her bread-making therapy. Therapy that had no hope of helping her mood after hearing her mate and that horrible buck Hayes plotting to mate Judy off this weekend.

"Mom!"

"Yes, Janae," said Bonnie, seeing Janae practically dragging her boyfriend into the kitchen. Her boyfriend that had a decidedly goofy look on his muzzle.

And then she noticed the promise necklace dangling around her daughter's neck.

"Did Dalton pop a stitch?"

"Yes!" wailed Janae, pointing to a tiny drop of blood on Dalton's t-shirt. "Where's Michaela? I'm such a dumb bunny. Look at all the blood! Dalton, why didn't you say anything the whole way over here? Do I need to call an ambulance? I knew I should have clipped my claws. Oh, Mom, please help."

Bonnie rolled her eyes and said, "Janae, please. Didn't Doc Stoan tell you two not to over-exert yourselves exactly because Dalton is still on the mend?"

"Yeah, but…"

Waving a paw in front of Dalton's muzzle and not getting much of a coherent reaction, Bonnie huffed, "But nothing, I think you broke him. Now, come with me. Michaela is in her clinic gathering what she needs to set up a medical tent for the fundraiser.

-/-/-

Nick, empty water jug in paw, jogged up onto the porch, pushed open the door, and—

"Whoa," said Nick, pirouetting out of the way of old bun Hayes. "Afternoon, Mr. Hayes, how's the day been treating you?"

Nick added a lazy, left-paw salute in the hopes of pissing off the speciest buck.

"Never you mind, pelt. How in the hell a decent buck like Stu Hopps puts up with a good for nothing, mangy pred like you living under his roof, I'll never know."

Nick met Hayes' glare with a wink and a mischievous smile as he nodded toward Hayes' Catillac and said, "Nice car, too bad your plates are expired."

Hayes sneered, "You wouldn't dare."

Nick pulled out a small ticket pad and, waving it under Hayes' muzzle, smiled big enough to show all his sharp teeth.

"Go to hell, fox," huffed Hayes as he made a beeline to his car.

Watching Hayes drive off, Nick nodded and said to himself, "Been there, done that, bought the t-shirt. Kind of happy where I am right now, ass—"

"Careful, there are kits around."

Nick froze.

"Sorry, Mr. H."

Stu looked the shirtless fox in shorts up and down before grunting, "Are you and Judy helping with the fundraiser set up?"

"Yes sir. Lucas called for a 15-minute break on the stage construction and sent me for some ice water."

"Where's Judy?"

"Over there with Janae. Janae's being a little overprotective of Dalton and Carr– Judy is trying to talk her down off the ledge."

"Overprotective?" said Stu, "I'm not so sure. It's not often around here that someone is slashed to within an inch of their life by an animal like you."

Nick tensed up, "Like me?"

"Don't try to deny it," said Stu, stepping closer to Nick, grabbing him by the wrist, and holding his paw up between them. "A vicious predator, a fox for all anyone knows, nearly slashed that boy to death with what you've got right here built into your paw. Isn't that true?"

Nick nodded.

"These claws have only one purpose, to maim, maul, and tear apart the ones I love." Letting go of Nick's wrist, Stu stepped back and said, "My family's only been hurt by predators, and I don't want that for Judy."

"Sir, I would never hurt Judy. I'd declaw myself with pliers before allowing that to happen. We're partners and best friends. I swear on the honor of my family's name and our unblemished standing within the Fox Community, there's nothing I wouldn't do to protect your daughter from harm."

"I was told once that canids have a protective streak that runs through them, supposedly makes them better family mammals. Personally, I haven't seen it. As a matter of fact, quite the opposite."

"Sir, I—"

Stu put up a paw, "A lot's been said about you in town, and I've seen how you are with my family. Bonnie seems to trust you, Lucas too. So, for Judy's sake, I'm willing to make you a deal.

"You can stay her partner on the City police force if you swear to watch out for her and do your absolute best to keep her safe, and…"

Nick nodded vigorously; this was his chance. Everything he'd been hoping and waiting for, Mr. H's blessing to—

"…step out of the way once Bonnie finds Judy a compatible mate."

"Step? What?" choked out Nick.

"I don't want you accidentally scaring off any suitors who might be willing to date Judy. She already needs her mother's help to find a suitable match, and having a pred around being all claws and fangs doesn't help anything. Understand."

"Yes, sir. But, speaking as her good friend, I really don't think you understand—"

"I understand plenty. It's you who needs to understand how you fit in here and in my family's life, which is not at all since you'll be gone in a few days, never to return."

Ending the conversation with a nod toward where Judy was now standing with her paws on her hips, watching the two of them, Stu said, "No matter how hard you try to change things, claws and fangs and prey will never mix.

"Good day, Deputy Wilde."

-/-/-

"Mom said you wanted me for something," said Courtney, shuffling into her dad's office.

Hayes, hunched over his desk with a magnifying glass, ignored his daughter.

Courtney, ears droopy, silently clasped her paws below her waist and waited.

Hayes grunted and shook his head.

Closing her eyes, Courtney sagged.

A hundred count later, "Your mother said you have some rudimentary ability at drawing."

"Yes, sir."

"Fine. Come here then, and tell me if you can fix this."

Shuffling over, Courtney stopped and stood next to her dad's desk. "What's that?"

"Your mating contract."

"Oh. What language is that? Shouldn't it be written in Common?"

"It's Lapine, and it's complicated," grumped Hayes. So, trust me when I say it's an Old Law requirement that we use a contract written in a ridiculously old, dead language. Alright."

"Yes, sir," replied Courtney, cringing.

"See these two spots marked with sticky notes?" said Hayes, pointing at the contract. "I need this 'o' to be turned into an 'a' like this one over here, and I need this emphasis mark erased."

Courtney shuffled closer and, rubbing the heavy-weight paper document between her fingers, said, "This is pawmade 100-pound cotton paper." And looking at the fixes her dad wanted, "Making the 'o' into an 'a' wouldn't be too hard if I had a stylus the right shape, but I don't, and erasing the emphasis mark is going to be a problem. The ink is into the paper fibers pretty deep, and without special tools, which I don't have either, trying to erase that mark will probably damage the paper.

"How important is it that the fixes match the rest of the calligraphy?"

"Very," said Hayes, taking back the contract and setting it on the desk. "I have an antique fountain pen with the right kind of tip, some ink, and an eraser I picked up in town…"

Courtney shook her head at seeing the eraser on her dad's desk.

Tapping a claw on the desktop, Hayes considered his options.

Waiting while her father thought about what he wanted, Courtney scanned the ancient script around each of the changes she'd been asked to make and memorized it.

"What do the changes do to the contract language?"

"Nothing important," Hayes finally said. "Change the letter, leave the emphasis mark."

-/-/-

A gentle stroke with his sharp claws extended.

A contented sigh followed by more purring.

'How could I ever hurt the girl of my dreams, the mammal I love more than anything?'

Another gentle stroke along the back of Judy's soft-furred ear.

'You're a pred. Preds have claws designed to do unspeakable things to his daughters. And I don't mean backrubs.'

Nick paused his ministrations and, staring at his claws, thought back to his first argument with Lucas. He'd been upset at all the things Lucas was saying about Judy. He raised a claw and exposed a fang, just like preds of old did. And then there was after the news conference. Upset again, what did he do? A vicious pred's go-to, claws and fangs.

'Maybe Mr. H. is right…'

Retracting his claws, Nick pet Judy's ear with the safest, feather-light touch he could muster.

One stroke, two stroke, three—

A soft paw caught his as Judy's head turned, and her beautiful purple eyes focused on him as she said, "I love how your claws feel on my fur, especially my ears. Please never hold back on who and what you are. You're my fox, and I want all of you just the way you are."

Smiling with her head up, Judy waited until Nick's claws extended out again, and then, before letting Nick's paw go, she gently placed his clawed fingers on her head close to an ear. Relaxing back into her pillow, Judy winked at Nick and said, "You don't have to be so gentle either."

A firmer stroke with his sharp claws extended.

A shiver and a moan followed by an intimate purring he'd grown to love.

'The girl of my dreams, the mammal I love more than anything. The bunny I will always be there for, now and forever, even if her heart has to go to someone else.'

…..

A/N: Bailey is a term I took from the description of an old English-style Motte and Bailey Castle, where the Bailey was the walled-in area (sometimes surrounded by a ditch or moat). Border Warrens are on the periphery. Bailey Warrens are in the interior or behind the protection of the Border Warrens.