Chapter Text
Judy slumped face-first onto her bed, the protesting squeaks of the bedsprings drowning out the groan that escaped from her mouth. She pressed her head into the duvet, gritting her teeth and clenching her paws in frustration, half-hoping that the coverings would swallow her up and suffocate her so that she didn’t have to deal with all the thoughts buzzing angrily around her head. Unfortunately for her, the bed was not forthcoming to her desire.
She looked up to glance out of the window and then, with another groan, flopped over onto her back as the cheery light of day gazed back at her. It seemed an insult that it was still so early in the afternoon. Were it any later, she could plausibly justify trying to get to sleep and just skipping out on the rest of the day. But the intransigent sun wasn’t allowing her any excuses.
Staring up at the off-white ceiling, she snorted to herself. It probably didn’t matter anyway. Sleeping was just a nice fantasy. Her brain would never let her give up so early, especially after today’s events.
For the past few weeks, she and Nick had been on a non-stop adventure of case after case, helping round up the two-hundred convicts that he had accidentally let go during his brief incarceration during the Lynxley affair. She supposed that she should have been annoyed at him for making such trouble for the department, but the entire operation had been thrilling; exactly the sort of thing Judy had envisioned when she had signed up for the ZPD. So far, they had caught eleven of the runaways, more than any other team on the force, a fact that she had been extremely proud of. More important to her, however, was all the time it gave her to spend with Nick, working together to track down the crooks, formulate a plan of attack, and bring them to justice. Their partnership together was just about the strongest on the force, and only improved with every case they took on. It was the happiest Judy had ever been before in her entire life.
Which meant, of course, that she had been overdue something going wrong. The arrest of their most recent fugitive, a cat-burglar by the name of Shirley Softpaws, had backfired rather spectacularly. Having located the rich neighbourhood where Softpaws had been active, they had put up the ruse of an elderly couple out-of-touch with modern home security who were going to be away on holidays for an extended period, counting on her taking the bait and being lured into a trap. Well, she had taken the bait, all right; but Judy decided to pounce before Softpaws was fully engrossed in her work, and the thief had managed to scramble out of a second-storey window and lose herself in the ensuing chase. What’s more, she had gotten away with some of the valuables that Nick and Judy had stashed in the house, meaning that, in addition to being a squandered opportunity, the whole débâcle had cost the ZPD financially as well.
It was the first time that something like this had happened to Judy, and to say that she was disappointed in herself would be an understatement. Had she a tail like Nick’s, it would have been between her legs as she trudged back to the Precinct One building – she had compensated by flattening her ears dejectedly behind her back.
Chief Bogo had been surprisingly calm about the situation. ‘You can’t win them all, Hopps,’ he had told her quietly in his office after she delivered her report. ‘It’s something we all have to learn at some point. Just be thankful it wasn’t worse.’
This, though well-intentioned, hadn’t helped very much, and the subsequent news had only succeeded in making Judy feel even more miserable. ‘It should only take a day or two of paperwork to clean this whole situation up, and then you can get back to hunting down more escaped prisoners.’
‘But not Softpaws?’ Judy had guessed, fearing that she already knew the answer.
‘Not Softpaws,’ Bogo confirmed. ‘She’ll be on the lookout for you and your style from now on. Chèvre and Bûcheron will take it from here.’
This was entirely fair and made a lot of sense, of course, but it also reinforced the notion that Judy had failed. And facing two days of paperwork with the notion of her failure weighing heavily on her wasn’t exactly an exciting prospect.
Sighing, she pushed herself up and sat on the edge of her bed, looking around her room with unseeing eyes, wondering what she was going to do with the rest of her day. Usually, she had spent the evening writing down ideas and strategies for going after their target to show to Nick the next day (he’d always chuckle and make some remark about work-life balance, but would carefully read them all anyway), but that obviously wasn’t an option any more. Aside from that… she supposed she could read a book, or maybe watch a film, but she somehow didn’t think it would be very effective in distracting her. The events of the day, especially her own mistake in acting prematurely, replayed in her mind as though someone had set up a cinema inside her skull. Her leg thumped against the ground, and she had to grab it to hold it still.
Then her gaze lighted on her windowsill, where an orange pen shaped like a carrot rested on a miniature wooden stand, upon which was a plaque engraved with the words: TO CARROTS, From Your Emotional Support Animal.
Unbidden, a smile twitched at the corners of her tired mouth, and she slipped off the bed and walked over to it. Nick’s gift to her was by far her most cherished possession – not that it had a great deal of competition, but she wagered it would remain so even if she owned fifty times as much stuff. It was like a tangible representation of the promise that he was her partner and that he was committed to sticking by her side no matter their differences. That promise meant the world to Judy, especially at a time like this – that, come what may, her favourite fox would continue to believe in her.
He had been the first to speak after they left Bogo’s office. ‘Guess we caught Gruffalo Buffalo on a good day. You know, he let four out of seven of my jokes go by without comment. I think that very well may be a record.’
Judy hadn’t answered, her face and ears downcast. Pushing his aviators up onto his forehead, Nick had sent a glance in her direction. ‘You bothered about the paperwork, Carrots? I can possibly be persuaded to do some of yours for you if you ask really nicely.’
‘It’s not the paperwork that’s bothering me,’ Judy had mumbled. Catching sight of Nick’s raised eyebrow, she had sighed and amended her statement: ‘Well, mostly not the paperwork.’
‘Go on,’ he had invited with an exaggerated roll of his paw. ‘What’s the real culprit?’
‘It… it’s me,’ she had said quietly. ‘I messed up by trying to get Softpaws too early. Another few seconds and she would have been completely inside that drawer, and I could have shut her in before she could escape. It’s my fault she got away. And that just makes me feel… bad.’
Nick had been silent for a few seconds. Then, ‘Yeah, I… I get what you mean.’
She had looked up at him in surprise. This hadn’t been the response she was expecting. ‘You… do?’
‘I mean, I think I do,’ he had said, nodding in greeting to Clawhauser as they headed across the lobby towards the bullpen. ‘I know I’m not exactly a paragon of emotional intelligence- ’ (those were words he had learnt from Dr Fuzzby,) ‘-but… I know that you don’t like it when you feel like a failure. But, Carrots- ’ (here he had stooped down and poked her gently in the chest,) ‘I don’t think you’re a failure. Because… well, as much as I hate to agree with the Big Man, he had a point. These things happen. And we’re gonna deal with it together, right?’
Despite herself, Judy’s ears had perked up a little at his empathy and encouragement, and she had felt a strange warmth blossoming in her chest where he had touched her. It was the same sort of warmth she felt as she gazed at the pen; a sensation she couldn’t quite put a label to, but which made her feel all sorts of things she didn’t really feel about anyone else. Before she could stop herself, she had reached out a paw and pressed down the stud on top of the pen.
‘Love you, partner.’
The warmth inside of her swelled and washed through her aching limbs, lifting from her mind the crushing feeling of failure that had burdened it the entire afternoon. It was a giddy, almost heady sort of a feeling, one that a small part of her brain wondered whether she should be having in response to Nick’s recorded affirmation. Still, she pushed the button again, and was rewarded as her partner’s voice spoke to her again in that same sincere tone.
‘Love you, partner.’
She smiled at herself as she re-read the inscription on the stand. The cinema in her head had ceased showing the footage of her abortive attempt to apprehend Softpaws, and was instead playing back Nick’s soft expression in the De’Snake house when he had said those words. It was a much more comforting viewing experience, and for a moment she wondered why she didn’t just play the recording on repeat every single day. A second later, her brain caught up with her and she remembered why that was the case-
‘Hey, bunny! I thought you said you’d stop playing that thing all the time!? What gives?’
Judy cringed as the loud and unmistakably annoyed voice of Bucky Oryx-Antlerson rang throughout her room, rattling one of the framed portraits on her wall.
‘Oh, lay off her! She’s probably had a bad day or somethin’!’
‘I don’t care – we agreed “no love recording after work”! You’re goin’ back on your promise, bunny?’
‘Ah, nope! Sorry, won’t happen again!’ Judy called to the wall, trying to keep the groan that had risen in her throat from making it out. She had made a deal with the Oryx-Antlersons that, in return for them staying quiet after she wanted to go to sleep, she would refrain from playing the pen’s recording, the sound of which seemed to irritate Bucky in particular. At the time, it had seemed like a pretty good deal, and logically she knew that it was in her best interests to uphold it, though presently her entire body was revolting against the thought of having to stop listening to Nick’s validation.
‘Good! Make sure it doesn’t!’ came the terse reply.
‘But what if she really wants to? Just a few more times?’ Pronk’s voice argued, causing the portrait beside the first to clatter about as well. ‘You can’t make an exception for bad days, huh?’
‘Oh, shut up!’
‘You shut up!’
‘You shut up!’
This time, Judy couldn’t keep back the groan as the portraits bickered in classic Oryx-Antlerson fashion. She glanced back to the pen on its stand, wishing that she could play it a few more times, just to hear her partner’s voice. His confidence in her was the only thing keeping her own lack of confidence in herself at bay.
The Oryx-Antlersons concluded their brief tiff, but the silence that followed was almost as unbearable as their quarrelling. Judy sat down hard on her chair, the warmth in her chest having been extinguished as the icy blast of the day’s events came blowing through her body again. She leant her elbows against the table and rested her head in her paws, feeling simultaneously restless and totally devoid of energy.
It was her fault that Softpaws had got away. And that fact that she couldn’t do anything about her any more made the pain even sharper. If she could at least get to work on another case, she would feel as though she was doing something to make up for it, but she was facing down a couple of days of paperwork that would do nothing but force her to re-live her own failure. Judy was reminded of her first day on the job, trying to convince herself that she wasn’t a failure in the face of the world’s insistence that she was. She had risen far above that position a long time, but perhaps the height she had attained was what made the fall feel just as bad.
Back then, Nick had been the one who had scorned her, telling her that she’d never be a real cop. Now, above all else, she relied on him to tell her that he believed in her, that he would still be her partner, that they’d do it together. No-one else in the world mattered more to her than Nick.
Nick…
Her gaze stole back over to the pen on the windowsill. The restlessness inside of her grew.
Abruptly, Judy stood up and snatched the pen from its stand, hooked it around her belt where it was tucked behind her jacket, shoved her phone in her pocket, and strode over to the door. If the Oryx-Antlersons weren’t going to let her listen to the recording here, then she’d just have to listen to it somewhere else.
Judy walked quickly down the dirty corridors of the Grand Pangolin Arms, that small part of her brain questioning what she was even doing. Stealing out of her apartment just to furtively listen to a recording of her partner telling him he loved her was, frankly, a rather strange activity to be engaging in, and not the sort of thing she’d really like her colleagues at the ZPD to know about. She could already imagine Bogo’s exasperated expression, Hogbottom’s look of mild disgust, Clawhauser’s squeal of excitement. As for Nick… well, what would Nick’s response be? He’d probably play it off with some sort of witty comment, but what would he actually think about what she was doing? It gave the impression that she was pining for him or something.
She pushed those thoughts resolutely out of her mind. It wasn’t weird at all for her to want to hear her partner’s voice after a hard day. It didn’t mean that she was pining for him. That wasn’t the way she felt about him.
As soon as she reached the bottom stair of the apartment front door amidst the brisk breeze of a Tuesday afternoon, Judy was forced to immediately dodge to the side to avoid being trampled by a passing elephant, who tooted an apology in her direction and continued on his way. The pavement was full of all sorts of animals careful navigating around one another, from rats to rhinos, each one scurrying or lumbering home after their days at work. From experience, Judy knew it was probably going to be like this for at least another hour. Pushing herself against the brick wall of the apartment so as not to obstruct traffic, she racked her brains for somewhere she could go where it was unlikely she would be interrupted.
There was a park nearby – Squirrel Square – the sort of place that was mostly out-of-the-way of the major thoroughfares of pedestrian movement at this time. That was her best bet. Looking around surreptitiously, as though eager not to be noticed (though, of course, she had already decided that what she was doing was totally appropriate), she slipped into the stream of animals heading in the general direction of the park and strolled quickly along, her paw occasionally brushing against the hard plastic hidden at her waist, her mind in turmoil.
Squirrel Square was a place that no-one was likely to be eager to spend much time at. Though not a terribly small patch of greenery, it was still possible to see straight from one end to the other, though the view was somewhat obscured by the low-hanging branches of a number of oaks that made up most of the scenery. A few pebbled paths criss-crossed the park, with a couple of metal benches stationed along their sides. There was a dull brazen fountain in the middle of the square, although the water pressure appeared to be quite diminished from what was intended, resulting in a rather unimpressive display. Despite the name, Judy didn’t think she’d ever actually seen a squirrel in Squirrel Square, though admittedly she’d rarely had much cause to come by. The only thing of significance that took her through the park was Nick’s apartment, and she’d only been there once anyway.
At the moment, the square’s only other occupant was an antelope staring moodily into the shallow water of the pond at the fountain’s base, a million miles away from a bench in the corner. Perfect. She scurried over there, trying not to move too eagerly, and, glancing around to double-check that no-one was watching or close enough to hear, she pulled out the carrot pen and thumbed the button.
‘Love you, partner.’
Judy sighed as she felt the tension inside her melt away a bit at Nick’s voice. The walk to the park had been really getting to her, the mutterings of failure tugging at her as Softpaws and Nick fought for supremacy in her mind. Now, Nick had won, and her failure that day retreated. It was driven from her mind by the comfort of his words and the genuine affection in his voice, the voice of a mammal who really cared for her. It was as though he was actually right beside her, whispering the words into her ear.
She examined the pen, turning it over in her paw, running a nail over the cracks that he had carefully glued back together. She had no idea how he had managed to get his paws on the broken pieces that had fallen from the cliffside. However he had done it, Judy preferred not to know. There was something alluringly mysterious about the things he may have had to go through to give to her the gift she had initially given him. The repaired plastic was a symbol of their own repaired partnership. He was the only partner she would ever want. She couldn’t imagine her without him anymore. It felt like there was no such thing as Hopps without Wilde, or Wilde without Hopps.
At the De’Snake house, Judy had promised that she’d give the pen back after their next case. After they had re-captured Bellweather, she had managed to convince Nick that by “next case” she had really meant “after all the escaped criminals are behind bars again” – which she hadn’t at the time, but Nick needn’t know that. Nick had accepted this fact with a few exaggerated sighs and teasing promises of retribution, but a minimum of actual protest. At the present moment, Judy was particularly glad for this fact.
‘Love you, partner.’
‘Oh, Nick,’ she murmured to the pen. ‘I don’t think you really know how much these words mean to me.’
She wished she could hear them again from his own mouth.
In her mind, she saw him, reclining casually on the bench next to her, smirking to himself at some stupid joke he had just thought of, his vibrant orange fur rippling in the wind. She imagined that he turned to look at her, smiling fondly, his emerald eyes finding her own, a paw reached out to rest gently on her shoulder. She remembered his embrace in that one, panicked moment at the weather wall, the way in which he had clutched her as though afraid to let go. She felt within her a desire for him to hold her again, to comfort her, to reassure her that she was strong. Reality seemed to fade away, and for a second she almost felt the softness of his fur against hers.
Suddenly, Judy shuddered, and with a flash of lucidity she realised the things she had just been thinking. Hot, burning embarrassment rose to her cheeks. She… she hadn’t just been thinking about Nick in that way, had she? That wasn’t the way that partners were supposed to think about each other. That was like a… a romantic way to think about someone, wasn’t it? Alarmed, she shook her head vigorously as though trying to shake the offending thoughts out of it. Judy Hopps had no business with romance. Romance wasn’t something that had ever interested her. She was perfectly capable on her own without anyone else, and she had always prided herself on that.
Except… well, she knew she wasn’t, didn’t she? She had come to realise that she needed someone else – someone who looked out for her, who believed in her when she tried, and who stood by her when she failed.
‘Love you, partner.’
As she gazed at the orange plastic cupped in her paws, the longings rose again to her mind, sharper this time. She saw herself walking down the pavement, Nick at her side, her paw held gently in his own. She saw him making some incidental remark about Chief Bogo and grinning as she burst into laughter over it as though it were the funniest thing ever. She saw him reach down and fondle her ears, something that he had never done before but that she secretly wished he would. She recalled the ridiculous outfits they had worn to bust Snootley, posing a couple, acting as though it were true. In a moment of realisation, she found that she wanted it to be true.
For a second, the idea rested within her, filling her whole body with warmth – then, as if doused unexpectedly in cold water, Judy gasped, pulling herself again out of the reverie and back into reality. That last thought was officially beyond any notion she had ever entertained about them both before. What could she say to excuse that? What else was there to say? That certainly wasn’t something that one thought about a partner. Did that… did she really-?
BUZZZZ!!!
Judy jumped two feet in the air from shock at the unexpected sensation, landing awkwardly on her stomach and nearly tumbling off the bench before she managed to catch herself. Clutching the pen tightly in one paw, her eyes darted wildly around the square as though looking for an aggressor, before her brain caught up with her and she recognised the muffled, upbeat chiming emanating from her pocket. Gingerly taking out her vibrating phone with trembling digits, she glanced at the screen and her frantically-beating bunny heart abruptly froze in its chest: Incoming call: Orange Dog <3
Judy stared at the phone for a few more seconds, suddenly regretting having put that “<3” at the end of his caller ID. Taking a deep breath to steady herself, she pressed the answer button, brought the receiver up to her mouth, and tried valiantly to make her voice sound normal. ‘Hey, Nick! What’s up?’
‘Hey, Carrots!’ his voice came back, sounding a little hesitant. ‘Err… you alright?’
Apparently, she hadn’t tried valiantly enough.
‘No!’ she assured him, pushing herself into a seated position and smoothing her creased jacket as though he could see her. ‘No- I mean, yes! Yes, I’m… err, good. Really good, actually. Super good. It’s… it’s great.’
‘Really?’ Nick asked. ‘You, err… you got over today pretty quick, huh?’
Judy winced, belatedly remembering that she was supposed to sound dejected, not exhilarated. ‘Well, it’s… it’s like you said, Nick. These things happen, don’t they? I can’t spend all day thinking about it.’
Even as she said those words, the revulsion at her own failure welled up inside her again like gall, but she managed to swallow and push it back down.
‘Well, boy, am I glad you listened to me on that one,’ said Nick. There was a strange rustling coming from his end of the line, like wind blowing past the tiny phone speakers. ‘Though I suppose it does come from Buffalo Butt, so… guess I can’t take all the credit, heh.’ He cleared his throat. ‘Anyway, I was just wondering; are you home at the moment?’
Judy glanced around the now-empty park. ‘Y-Yeah, why?’
‘Well, I… I mean, I know you’re feeling better and all, but this afternoon I got to thinking and the idea occurred to me: y’know, it’d be good for that rabbit to have some company from her beloved partner after her tough day at work. So I got takeout and I’m heading over to your place now.’
‘Nick, I haven’t told you where my apartment is,’ Judy said, her brow furrowing.
‘Sure have. You let a lot more slip when you’re in a talkative mood than you think, Fluff. Grand Pangolin Arms, Room 16. Twenty-five minutes’ walk; west on Dingo Drive, turn right at the intersection, left to follow all those little back alleys through to Beech Road, head north along it, pivot through Squirrel Square and just follow the road until you get there.’ The smug smile on his face was evident even from his tone. ‘I told you I’d been paying attention, Carrots. I hope you’re suitably proud of me. And if you’re wondering where I’m up to, I’m just about to enter the park now.’
Judy’s heart stopped again. Her ears shot up. Her eyes flew over to the entrance on the other side of the square. Sure enough, there was Nicholas Wilde entering the park, phone to his ear, takeout containers in paw, mercifully looking in the wrong direction.
Judy let out an extremely unflattering yelp, leapt forward off of the bench, scrambled behind a nearby oak, and pressed her back to its trunk where she would be hidden from Nick’s line of sight, breathing heavily, phone in one paw and pen in the other. Furtively, she peeked around the side of the tree to confirm that she hadn’t been imagining things. Sure enough, Nicholas Wilde was still there, this time staring at his phone in surprise as though it had just yelped at him... which, of course, it had.
His mouth moved, and Judy heard his voice come both from him and her own device. ‘Sorry, Judy, didn’t quite catch that. Come again?’ She saw his gaze begin to roam around the square as he waited for her response.
Ducking back behind the tree, Judy forced her shaking paw up to her mouth and managed to squeak out, ‘I- I… wow, Nick, you really have been paying attention!’
‘Yeah… I know. No need to be so shocked.’ Judy heard his pawsteps resume and shuffled around the trunk to match his movement. ‘Anyway, just thought I’d call ahead and let you know. Tidy the place up a bit for your favourite fox, maybe? Just a thought.’
There was ample room there for a comment about the state of his own residence, though the wit required to make it had unfortunately abandoned Judy.
‘Yep, I’ll do that!’ she said, her voice still far too high-pitched to pass as normal. ‘See you, bye!’
‘Bye, bun-’
Judy stabbed at the “end call” button and the line disconnected. Chancing another look around the tree, she saw him tucking his own phone back into his pocket as he passed through the gate on the other side, the one that led to her apartment. His tail flicked uncertainly behind him, and then he turned the corner and was gone.
Judy clutched at her chest, her heart racing faster than had legs had ever taken her. Her head reeled, and she had to steady herself against the tree to keep from toppling over. Her phone dropped from between numb digits and hit the floor, but the carrot pen she gripped as tightly as a lifeline.
Alright. Whatever she had expected out of her afternoon, this had not been it. Nick had never even hinted that he might want to come around and see her at her apartment after work before – not that she hadn’t deliberated inviting him on a few occasions – and so the possibility had entirely eluded her consideration. The fact that he had taken it upon himself to do so now spoke to his characteristically Nick confidence, and also, she reckoned, to his newly-committed determination to trying to more openly express his care for and support of her. He had acted cool and casual about it, as he always did, but Judy could tell that he had wanted to check up on her to make sure she wasn’t being too hard on herself. The thought warmed her to an extent that she would have believed impossible just an hour earlier, but still… given what she had just been thinking, it was sort of an awkward time for him to pop by.
She forced herself to concentrate. He thought she was currently at her apartment – obviously she didn’t want him to show up and find that she wasn’t. That meant she either had to try and get there before him, or intercept him on the way. Given that there weren’t any accessible back entrances to the Grand Pangolin Arms and the straight road would mean his keen sight would spot her trying to enter the building a mile off, she’d had to go for Option B. She’d make up some excuse about wanting to see him in herself or something. Anything that disguised the real reason she had been outside.
Bending down, Judy picked up her phone from the ground and slipped it into her pocket, before nervously surveying the pen in her other paw like it was an incriminating object. Questions would certainly be raised if Nick found she had taken it down with her. Hesitantly, she clipped it back onto her belt and tugged her jacket back over it. It covered it adequately enough, especially if she kept that side away from him. And she could slip it back onto its stand before he noticed when they got to the apartment.
Judy nodded to herself. Having a plan helped her calm her mind, just like it did when she was undercover. Resolutely ignoring the various disparate voices vying for attention inside her head (what a rollercoaster she had put her poor brain through!) she set out swiftly in the direction that Nick had departed, fixing her focus on the task of convincing her partner that she was fine and hadn’t been doing anything unusual.