My thanks to everyone for waiting, and my deepest hopes that this chapter will be worth your while. I've decided to put one or two other projects on hold while I write this, especially as summer is such a busy time. The good news is that some of my summer projects have yielded a good return, and now I'll be able to get things done more smoothly in terms of day to day living. More convenience, more writing (I hope); as Mr. Hopps would say, "Terrific! Everyone wins!"

I usually write the chapter first and then choose or find a quote to fit the mood, but as I was preparing to write this chapter I chanced to be looking over my collection of quotes saved for such use. I spotted this one here, and the opening of this chapter practically wrote itself. Better still it had been quite a struggle of an opening, proving that teenagers with attitude can even beat the evils of writer's block.

Okay, no more jokes. Time to get serious.

"Upsetting. You know, it's just weird to me that I'm not allowed to be upset. I mean, I should have known it was too good to be true, but I don't get to be mad when something's over? No, I'm just supposed to smile and pretend everything's cool. But… I just can't do that."

Tommy Oliver, Saban's Go Go Power Rangers Vol 8

From his preteens up, Nick had made it a point to be difficult to draw out. Pretending to be totally unfazed was more than just a career skill for him; it was a matter of pride, and the more bothered he was the more cavalier he acted. One of the reasons he'd been so derisive of Judy early on was the way she wore her emotions on her sleeve, letting her face act like a neon sign for whatever she was thinking sometimes more openly than her voice, which was no small feat. True, she had won his respect despite his initial notions of her and her transparency, but that didn't make it something he aspired to copy himself. Even as a cop he'd have to play it cool. He already did, just to get in.

He would always think afterward that he had overdone it when he and Judy got back in the car, she still fairly red in the face from trying unsuccessfully to appeal to Taelia on his account, and his first words were about getting ready for Poisson.

"What?" she asked, stunned. For a moment she just stared at him as if wondering where the real Nick had gone. Then the dam broke and she went on. "How can you think about that at a time like this? Taelia thinks you're some kind of-"

"Carrots, it's not like she's the last vixen on Earth, right?" he objected, raising his paws. "Now look, we have a job to do, there's not much time, and-"

She cut him off. "Does this really bother you that much?"

He stared at her for a long moment. "Bother me how much?"

The look on her face seemed to ask how dumb he thought she was, in a sincerely caring and slightly hurt kind of way.

"Nick," she said at last, reaching out to lay a paw on his arm, "it's me, okay? Talk to me."

He took a deep breath, and for one agonizing moment he thought about laying his cards on the table. It was Judy, after all; a friend he'd have been willing to tell stuff – as a matter of fact had told stuff – he wouldn't want to admit to his own mother. Even if he had to wryly admit to himself how little that said with him, he still knew he could talk to her.

It lasted all of five seconds. "Listen, Carrots… can we just focus on doing our jobs? I really…" he faltered, and ever so slightly cracked. "I don't want to discuss this now, alright?"

She looked on, then looked away and started the car. As much as she hated to admit it, she got it. Not just the part about having a job to do, even if he was right about it. In a more rational, less hurting-for-a-friend frame of mind she would have been the first to say that the safety of the city and the pursuit of truth and justice had to come before someone's love life. She even had said that a few times, mostly when it was to family or friends talking about her… well, lack of a love life, but why split hairs? From a practical, rational, needs-of-the-many point of view, Nick's response made perfect sense.

All the same, though, this wasn't her own love life, it was a friend's; a good friend's, whom she could tell without a second thought was deeply and painfully crushed, and who was making it worse by pretending it didn't really matter. She could even tell, though the conversation with Taelia had been brief and bitterly cold, that the sudden wedge had cut both ways. Even if it wasn't strictly her fault like the last time, two innocent people – one of them her best friend – were hurting because of this investigation. Even as her pragmatic side told her this wasn't the biggest thing on her plate at the moment, her idealistic, giving, others-centered side screamed to do something about it. Every fiber of her fuzzy gray being said she owed it to everyone to deal with the problem.

As she put the car in gear, she promised herself she'd think of something before the day was done, and she'd do it. After all, she didn't know when to quit.

Nick was unusually quiet and thoughtful as he and Judy worked on getting him ready for his dinner meeting. Not totally quiet; he did allow himself one wisecrack about Judy's housewife potential after seeing the job she did of pressing his suit. She pretended not to hear and then 'accidentally' pricked him as she was pinning a carnation to his jacket, just as a matter of principle. They'd hardly said anything on any topic except the evening's immediate plans when he stood, ready at last, to go out and meet Poisson's driver.

Somehow the look on her face at that juncture told him he'd better say something. Besides, the two of them were alone in the building's front hall.

"I know what you're thinking," he said at last. "You're going to go see Taelia, right?"

She didn't see any point in denying the matter, and she didn't have the heart to be glib or playful on the subject. "Yeah," she affirmed.

He shrugged. "Well, I can't talk you out of it," he allowed with a shrug, "but don't get your hopes up. The last time I saw a vixen look at me like that, I knew without even trying that she was done."

At this she had to muster some show of hope. "Maybe that's why it broke off," she suggested. "You didn't try."

The sheer Judy-ness of this remark was too much not to warrant a smirk, and he reached out to ruffle the fur between her ears. She swatted his paw away, then caught him by the arm and hastily fixed a crease messed up by her actions.

"You really take this stuff seriously, don't you?" he asked, his dour mood cracking at last. "I knew you rabbits were stuck on romance."

She shook her head, restraining her urge to stomp on his tail for this jab. "I'm stuck on looking out for my friends," she answered firmly. "Besides, I kind of got you into this mess."

He was about to thank her for taking the blame when a large and expensive-looking car pulled up outside and the driver stepped out with a sign, as if at an airport, bidding him to exit. Even under the circumstances Judy couldn't deny some unease at the sight of Poisson's butler, and Nick couldn't help some sense of strange familiarity. He knew about the hyena's checkered past and had even seen him in one or two seedy joints. Once when he was still fairly green as a criminal he had even used one of Bruce's brawls as a distraction to get out of a deal gone sour. Yet there was something else about that face, pricking at the back of his mind in a way he couldn't quite place as he gave Judy one last promising smile and strode out into the evening to the waiting Lambosine.

Despite her usual go-go-go demeanor, Judy stayed there for nearly a full minute and didn't move except to step out to the doorway as the car pulled away. She kept it in view until it vanished into the city traffic as dusk settled. Then at last she set off to track down Taelia and make her case on that front.

In a slightly rickety old ceiling lamp above the hall, a tiny brown bat watched until he was quite sure the bunny cop was gone. Then he pulled out a tiny phone and hit redial.

Technically, looking up Taelia's home address wasn't police business, which made doing it with police access sketchy at best. Judy was hoping nobody would notice the search, but to be on the safe side she wrote the address manually so no printer request could be tracked.

All the way to Taelia's apartment, she wondered what she would say. She wished she knew more about the vixen than just the fact that she was ticked off at Nick. Past fiascos with her relatives' love lives, to which she'd warmed many a ringside seat, swam through her mind with possibilities until she pushed them all aside as she reached the nondescript apartment door.

"Coming," came a voice in answer to her knock, and a moment later there stood Taelia. The vixen's eyes, not quite reddened but definitely weary from recent misery, hardened as they registered who her guest was.

"Oh, right. You're with Nick."

That wasn't a good start, but what had she been hoping for? "Yeah, about that…"

"I don't want to talk about it." Taelia started to close the door.

"Wait," Judy pleaded, catching it by the edge at the risk of her fingers. "Could I just-?"

"Officer Hopps, if this has anything to do with Nick I'm not interested."

Judy's mind worked for an answer, and somehow clicked onto something she had learned from Nick; those who bit hardest had usually been bitten themselves. "Then what about you?" she pressed, taking a wild shot.

Taelia paused, her paws letting up further on a push which had already checked so as not to actually crush the rabbit's paw. "What's that supposed to mean?" she asked in what almost sounded like a serious question.

After a long silence, Judy made her move. "Listen, I know I can't make you, but could you just listen to me for five minutes while I try to explain?"

Taelia bit her lip, wavering between options. She'd been burned enough times to know that looking back was all but invariably a mistake. Besides, what she'd overheard about Nick rang all too strongly of the Travis incident; a fiasco from which she'd narrowly escaped without permanent damage – at least in the physical sense. As for Officer Hopps, whatever the ZPD's reputation for integrity it was no secret that crooked cops were a fact of reality. On the other paw, she didn't really want to think of the bunny in front of her that way, and truth be told some naive, frustrating part of her didn't want to let go of the thought that maybe somehow Nick wasn't the sort of scumbag her ears said he was. Her mind and heart warred on the matter, and at last she came to a consensus which bade her to open the door.

"Five minutes," she said in a defeated tone. Then, as if to remind Judy that this was her apartment – her refuge – she added, "And that's all I'm giving."

Judy stepped in, grateful for any chance to redeem herself and her friend. She paused her speech only long enough to watch as Taelia opened up her phone and set a timer. The vixen glanced up at her before tapping to start the countdown.

"Go."

"I know what you overheard at the store sounded bad, but I promise, Nick's not just some kind of creep out to take advantage; not of you or anyone else." She paused, hoping to gain some clue from Taelia's reaction as to what the vixen had heard and what she was making of it. The wary, slightly pained expression was too general to read clearly.

"The truth is… well, I can't tell you the whole truth because it involves an investigation," she admitted rather weakly, "but we needed him to get in somewhere to try and find some information, and it turned into a date – which wasn't his idea." This last she added in haste lest it sound like Nick was using the situation.

"And the things you both said about me?" Taelia pressed. "That business about extra charm, for instance?"

Judy bit her lip. "I can't speak for Nick on all of that," she admitted, "but he wouldn't try to pull a fast one on you, honest."

"What makes you so sure?" Taelia asked again. "How long have you known him?"

"Long enough. He helped-"

Judy stopped. She couldn't talk about Nick's role in catching Bellwether either, since that was still privileged information. She tried to think of something to cite of Nick's character that wasn't part of the case, or at least something everyone already knew about.

Then it came to her, and she wished with all her might it hadn't… but she owed it to Taellia, to herself, and most of all to Nick. Whatever the vixen made of it this was unequivocally the right thing to do.

"Remember that news conference when the ZPD blew the lid off the missing mammal cases?" she asked quietly. "When we… when I said predators were going savage and it might be biological?"

By the look on Taelia's face, she remembered – and it wasn't helping her trust Judy. With nothing else to do, the bunny plunged ahead. "Well, he was standing right there in the room the whole time," she went on, willing her voice to stay strong. "I had talked to him, told him I wanted to be partners just before I went on, and then I said all that after he risked his life to help me. I betrayed him, and later on he gave me another chance. That's… that's how I know who he really is. He could have gone on hating me, and I would have deserved it. So I know he wouldn't do anything to hurt you."

Taelia stared at her for a long moment, then turned towards the window and gripped the sill as she stared out. The angle of the light obscured her reflection, leaving Judy unable to guess what might be written in her face.

The phone alarm beeped. Her time was up.

Judy waited in pained silence for some signal – anything at all – of Taelia's thoughts. At last the vixen took in a breath, and Judy's phone rang in her pocket.

Neither of them said a word, and Judy moved to reject the call, even when she saw who was calling.

"Answer it," Taelia said, her voice cracking.

After a moment's indecision, she took the call. "Chief Bogo?"

Taelia blinked, then motioned toward the door. Judy turned to leave amid an update about Poisson, then stopped in her tracks.

"What?"

Not sure what to think anymore about what was going on, or even about what Judy had just told her, Taelia stood there numbly waiting for the call to finish. Judy's confession brought back the conversations she and her friends had with Nick that night at Xavier and Isabelle's… not even a full two weeks ago. Had it really been so little time?

Nicole had said that night that it was only right to give Judy a second chance after she'd fixed her mistakes, and at the time Taelia had agreed wholeheartedly. Was it really so different with Nick, or…?

Her train of thought broke off as Judy ended the call. "I guess I've taken enough of your time," she said quietly, pocketing the phone. "Listen, if you decide to give Nick another chance, you have his number. I think he'd like to hear from you."

She turned to go.

"Wait a minute."

She stopped with her paw on the doorknob and saw that Taelia had gone over to the coffee table. She picked up two slips of paper and held them up.

"Comp tickets," she said by way of explanation. "My brother had something come up, so he and his family won't be needing them. If Nick is really serious about seeing me again, tell him to come to the sound room after my band wraps up. I'll see him then. And… you come too, if you're not working. We'd like to see you there."

Judy smiled, enjoying the serendipity of the moment. "Hold onto them," she replied. "The ZPD just got twenty tickets reserved for plainclothes cops at the concert, and they're good for a plus-one. I'll see you there."

As Judy left, Taelia sighed and looked at the tickets in her paw. She could have invited her parents, but they weren't much into concerts; more the CD type of mammals. If only her niece hadn't gotten sick at the last minute. Still, maybe it was for the best. Richard could be protective – sometimes excessively so – and it would be better not to have the two reynards cross paths until she had made up her mind about Nick. Maybe seeing him and Judy at the concert would help her make up her mind.

That was, of course, if Nick made it past the plan she had formed in the back of her mind. She trusted Judy, and she'd even brought herself to conditionally trust Nick, but a lady needed her safety nets.

'I just hope this doesn't disrupt things too much for Xavier and Isabelle,' she thought to herself. 'They've got such big plans for that night.'

The subjects of this last thought, about that time, were having a late meeting with a panda judge over in the Rainforest District with civil judge Reginald Pandaris. The black-and-white ursine regarded them, and a third mammal, from behind tiny glasses and folded paws.

"I understand your concerns, everyone," he said slowly and deliberately, "but as I've pointed out there is a hold on this order of business with a set time, and-"

"Order of business!" snapped Isabelle, who was near the end of her patience after weeks of arguing the matter back and forth. "We're not selling a house, we're trying to a-"

"I know what this is about," Pandaris interrupted with a raised paw while Xavier – despite feeling pretty hot under the collar himself – tried to cool his wife's temper down. "But the law is the law, and the time is not that far from complete."

"The time shouldn't have been there in the first place," interrupted their fourth party, a wallaby by the name of Jerry. "The whole savage thing had nothing to do with any predators, especially them. They're no more dangerous than I am to them."

Xavier nodded, then took the opening to put his two cents in. "Your Honor," he stated solemnly, "I think Jerry has a point. When it was a question of whether we might randomly hurt someone without wanting to, we were perfectly willing to put aside all our headway to make sure no one was hurt. We have the utmost respect for the letter of the law…"

Isabelle huffed, but said nothing.

"… but I think we need to realize here that the letter of the law is not serving the spirit of the law. It may even be actively damaging it."

At this, His Honor lifted his eyebrows, though the effect was somewhat muted by the blackness which enveloped his eyes. "Actively damaging?"

"Yes. You know we want to announce this at the concert – a concert celebrating that we can put the lies behind us and work together, and that the city is working privately and officially to get life back to how it should be. If we can make the announcement, it will help. If we have to put it on hold… well, we won't say anything, but we'll lose a final note that could give hope to hundreds of mammals."

The judge stroked his chin thoughtfully. In his silence, even the bold Isabelle grew subdued. "Your Honor," she pressed lightly, "isn't this more important than marking a calendar?"

At last a small smile came over Pandaris' face, and he nodded gently. "You win," he said quietly. "Bring the papers tomorrow, and we will settle it then."

Xavier could hardly contain his own grin as he pulled out a folder and set it on the table. "Or, we could save you another appointment and just settle it in two minutes. I even picked up a form from your secretary about waiving the waiting period."

Pandaris let out a deep, throaty laugh. "You knew I'd cave, didn't you?" he asked, turning the folder towards himself and flipping it open. "Now where did I put that pen?"

Alas, not all was brightness and hope in the city that evening. While Judy was settling accounts with Taelia, Nick had enjoyed a mellow ride to the tunnels, then the Nocturnal District, and finally to Poisson Manor itself. The car was spotless and luxurious, with much the same luxuries as he'd come to know riding in limos owned by Mr. Big and the like. Champagne, wine, and even a few soft drinks and a selection of seltzer water lay in an ice chest which had evidently been freshly filled, and sprinkled with fresh mint leaves as if for a garnish. There was even a covered dish – fixed to the wall, of course – of citrus and cucumber slices to adorn and flavor the beverages. Appetizers were readily at paw which were clearly geared towards a predator's appetite, although he couldn't help thinking the use of a miniature microwave seemed a tad tacky, even if the microwave itself was a sleek black design. Then again, Poisson seemed the type used to having what she liked when she liked it, and who would criticize her for some instant cooking, especially in her own car? Besides, the rest of the back seating was impeccably classy, with everything from chrome trim to a few mounted planters of…

He paused at the sight of the flowers, and a sense of unease overtook him. Of course, what had he been expecting? Daffodils? He suppressed the dislike he had acquired for the particular blossoms, and a sense of surprise that even a skunk as bold as Poisson would have them on display like this after all that had happened. Smelling an opportunity, he looked casually forward for any sign that the driver was tracking his actions, or any other indication of surveillance. Convinced of his security, he picked one flower from the nearest planter, taking care to take it towards the back so as not to disrupt the car's dubious aesthetic. He slipped it into a small bag for evidence and pocketed it, then to make its scent less suspicious if anyone should notice, plucked another and pinned it next to the carnation on his jacket. Poisson might take offense, but she might not. Besides, the goal here was information, not actually getting a contract.

The presence of Night Howlers dampened his appetite a little, and he resolved to leave the snacks alone except for a soda and some blueberries from another of the coolers. He wondered if the presence of food indicated that much eating on the go in this car or if it was just a display. There didn't seem to be a crumb out of place, but his nose told him the car had been recently cleaned.

'Wait.' Caught in a corner of the black seat, something slim and white stuck out like a sore thumb. Glancing forward again, he leaned across and picked up the strand. A quick look and a sniff told him it was wool; not processed wool either, as if a little had found its way out of the upholstery. This was right off the sheep, and pretty fresh too.

Obviously, that was hardly conclusive evidence. Not all sheep, or all mammals who did business with or near Night Howlers, were involved in the Bellwether Conspiracy. All the same, a prickling sensation ran through him much the same as it had when he recognized the fancy glassware in a certain other limousine.

Slipping the strand into another evidence bag and hiding it the same pocket with the first, he settled back and took a calm sip of his drink. He'd been in enough scrapes to know that whatever happened, you must never, ever let them see that you were nervous.

Nick continued to keep up his facade of a nervously optimistic entrepreneur through the rest of the ride, and eyed the mansion with a slightly exaggerated look of fascination.

"I wasn't expecting it to be this big," he admitted as the hyena opened the door for him.

Bruce made no response to this, verbal or visual. "Allow me to show you to the private dining room," he said, waving his hand in a most formal manner for Nick to follow. Nick walked behind him, trying not to stare too intently but still almost positive there was some recent reason for finding Bruce so familiar. He toyed with the idea of making some casual inquiry whether they had met before, but kept it to himself. If there was any history between them that had escaped him, and Bruce figured it out before he did, all could be lost. At least for now the hyena seemed in the dark too.

Bruce led him through the foyer, hung his jacket in a close big enough to provide luxury housing for a small family, and then took him through an empty banqueting hall, down a corridor past several open art and collection galleries, and at last to one room set to accommodate about a dozen or so dinner guests, albeit some of them at least could be elephants. In the center of this room stood a table, set exquisitely with dinner and a few candles, and adjoined by two chairs. The atmosphere was not quite overtly romantic, but definitely on the private and intimate side for a business meeting.

Poisson was already there, looking as content as if she had only just arrived herself and found Nick as punctual as she was. "Good evening," she greeted with a smile. "I trust you enjoyed your trip?"

"Best I've had since I don't know when," he answered with sincerity. Even when he had been in Mr. Big's good graces, he'd seldom had a nicer car ride.

Seeing Bruce about to draw a chair, he dashed in to intercept. "Allow me, Miss," he said in his most charming manner, siding the chair away from the table and beckoning her to sit. She smiled warmly and did so, evidently liking what she saw.

'I just hope she doesn't like it too much,' he thought as he took his own seat and Bruce began to wait on them.

Apart from the useful fact that the flowers in her car (of which she seemed flattered he had picked one) were indeed of the company brand, the dinner conversation continued to give mixed signals. Sometimes it centering on details of his business plan, and sometimes on matters of his personal life. He had to wonder if this was an effort at gaslighting; if Poisson was trying to throw him off balance by making him wonder what was what.

In an attempted countermove, he put on a facade that the personal questions actually pleased, or at least intrigued him. "You seem to want to know a lot about my family background," he ventured.

Poisson smiled right back, seeming thoroughly charmed. "My father always said and lived that it is who you are that counts, at least as much as what you accomplish, and I've made that my focus from the beginning. It's no secret that Pwasson's Passion is a family enterprise, and that I hope one day to pass it to an heir of my own."

This last relieved Nick, since it put considerable doubt on any notions that Poisson meant to move their dinner date in a romantic direction. In later recollections he'd think how ironic that was when in the past any indication that a female had plans of family later on had been his immediate cue to start planning an exit.

What she said next, though, threw him a complete and totally curve ball and drove from his mind any thoughts of irony or relief – especially when it came together with the hyena's paw setting on his shoulder with a clamp like steel.

"Since I like to work with like-minded mammals, I make it a point to know well in whom I confide or invest; what family they have or wish to have, what personal goals they have outside of business..." she paused for the briefest of moments and smiled like a spider seeing that a nice, fat fly was thoroughly caught. "... and where their loyalties rest. So tell me, Nick Wilde, what is Officer Hopps up to these days?"

To the Guest who observed on Chapter 42 "He'll need to work hard to fix this," you certainly got that right. Only how's he going to live that long now that Poisson knows the truth?