I’m ready for this, she assured herself as she flipped through the note pad in her paw as Nick drove them towards the courthouse in silence.
She had already transferred all necessary data onto solid copies, which was tucked away in her briefcase along with every other legal piece of evidence she could present to the court, but she had always found that sorting through her notes in the order that she had taken them helped her remember the sources and means that she had come by the information. Every detail was important, even if she wouldn’t present all of it in her case. She needed to stick to what was most relevant, what would most likely sway the Court with fact, reasonable doubt, and evidence. That was more important than addressing every single fact.
Once the appeal was complete, though, she was already considering what could be released to the media. Full disclosure on her part, if she could find a way to manage it without being blocked. She somehow doubted that it would be blocked because no matter how many times she reviewed the evidence, nothing had ever led her to the conclusion that the murder had anything to do with The Administrator or The Council. As for who had done it and who had tried to bury the reason under a false charge against Mr. Otterton? Half of that she was almost certain she had the answer to while the other half was shrouded in shadow that she hadn’t even come close to touching yet. That was one of a dozen reasons she intended to stay in Zootopia after the appeal, whatever the outcome was.
One of the reasons she had decided to stay kept his eyes on the road, even though she was certain he was aware that she was looking in his direction. His sunglasses were back in place, the dark suit was as crisp as it ever was, and the stoic expression on his muzzle gave little away though she could see the way his eyes moved as he drove. A predator watching more than the road. But she understood that this wasn’t him. Well, it was him in the same way it was her when she stood in front of witnesses or a full courtroom and asked questions with a confidence she didn’t always feel. But it was a professional façade, one that he had worn for so long that he had forgotten how not to wear it. She had seen what it was like when he let it drop, seen a side of the male that she hadn’t believed existed when she’d first met him at the train station in Bunny Burrow and for days afterward. It hadn’t come all at once, either. The process had been slow. A smile here, a joke there, words to boost her confidence, a small sign that he cared, even the attraction that had been the last thing she’d expected to come from any of it.
She watched his eyes linger off the road for a moment, pausing and darting from one spot to the other with seeming interest. He said nothing, but she wondered what he saw when he became so alert? How did he decide what was a possible threat and how did he dismiss it, as he did this time? Likely the same way she decided what facts were relevant to a case and which could clog a courtroom, costing possibly vital moments of attention from the judge. That in mind, when she saw his eyes return to the road like the round the front of the courthouse, she decided that he had not seen anything worth seeing.
“Hm,” he grunted, his gaze turning towards the front steps of the courthouse as he pulled in, “it looks like the ZPD is finally getting off their tails now that the official hearing has come.”
When she looked out the window herself, she saw that the throngs of reporters that she had expected were being kept along the sides of the main steps by barriers, and outside of those barriers keeping the peace were two rows of mammals in dark blue uniforms. Not that they were keeping the reporters at bay, since none of the reporters seemed particularly interested in trying to cross a police barricade, but she got the distinct feeling it was more of an honor guard. This feeling was confirmed further when a tall, lanky cheetah made his way down the stairs towards the car. To her surprise, the lock popped open when Nick pressed the button, allowed the officer to open her door when he reached it.
“Mrs. Hopps,” he said as he bent down to eye level with the smaller vehicle, “I’m Officer Clawhauser of the ZPD. Chief Bogo sent us to see to your security personally from this point onward. The courtroom has been closed for the hearing, so your bodyguard won’t be allowed to follow you in.”
“But,” she began, only to stop when Nick placed a paw on her shoulder. When she turned to face him, he removed his sunglasses to look down at her calmly.
“It’s all right,” he said, even though the idea of being separated from him so close to the end of what they had started together made her stomach twist. “The Administrator wants this appeal to happen, so no one inside of the Courthouse will try anything.”
“Are you sure?” she murmured, looking between him and the officer waiting patiently outside of the car.
“If I wasn’t, I wouldn’t let you go in at all,” he assured her, giving her shoulder a light squeeze as he held her gaze. “This is your battleground and you’re ready for it. I’ll be out here waiting for you when you come out.”
She paused for a long moment, her ear dropping back as she closed her eyes drew in a deep breath. She had been willing to come into the city alone reach this point, and the fact that he wouldn’t be in the court with her had always been something she had known could happen. It was no different now, except that she knew she trusted this fox. If he believed she would be safe…
“All right,” she said, opening her eyes again and looking up at him, one paw raised to rest over his. “You’re right. I’m ready for this.”
She took another steadying breath when his paw slipped from her shoulder and he replaced the sunglasses again. Then with a firm nod that was mostly to affirm those words to herself, she gripped her brief case with one paw while reaching out to take the large one of the cheetah, allowing him to help her out of the car.
“Don’t worry, Ma’am,” he said in a tone that was oddly cheerful but easy to hear over the rows of reporters yammering and trying to yell questions at her over the shoulders of the officers standing at the barricades. “There are more officers inside, and we’ve had the courtroom locked down for the past twenty-four hours to ensure that everything is secure.”
While she was sure his words were meant to comfort and assure her that she was safe, she knew that the only reason she felt it could be true was Nick’s assurance that she would be safe in the courthouse. Still, once they reached the top of the stairs and moved towards the courthouse doors, she couldn’t resist looking back to the car that still waited below with an uneasy feeling. It only lasted for a moment, though, before she reminded herself that she had come to Zootopia for a reason.
With no option to turn back now ever entering her mind, she turned and stepped through the doors.
_______________________________
Nick watched as she ascended the stairs towards the courthouse, leaning over the seats so he could keep his eyes on her until she reached the double doors that would take her out of his sight. That moment of hesitation at the entrance, where she looked back towards the car, where he wanted to demand that he be allowed to go in with her. It would have done no one any good, though, and his presence in the courtroom would have been a distraction more than a help.
That and he had something else to deal with.
Once she was gone and the door firmly closed, he pulled away from the steps and started to drive. Not far, but not directly to his destination, either. He drove around the courthouse itself, back into the streets of the city while checking to make sure that he wasn’t be tailed by the media. He wouldn’t have put it past them, trying to learn more about the mysterious bodyguard that was now laughably being called a hero by certain publications. But it seemed their focus was all on the trial now and once he was certain no one had followed him, he took a side street that led him back to the same street he had taken to approach the courthouse from Downtown. There, just before the car would become visible to the throngs of mammals outside of the front steps, he took a turn into an alley and drove in just far enough to block the entrance to the alley and ensure that the car wouldn’t be seen.
There he sat for a moment, keeping her eyes on the relatively narrow space between the two large buildings before he killed the engine. The moment he opened the door and started to climb out, the pack melted out of their shadows and hiding spots. One of the wolves even came down from the roof, sliding down the wall to land almost soundlessly on the asphalt. Five in total, all in basic tactical dress without armor, carrying no firearms that he could see offhand, carrying what he was almost certain were swords on their backs.
“I told you he would see us,” one of them said, a white wolf with steady blue eyes trained on the fox with a cool stare that lacked anger, blood lust, or insanity. Professionals, then.
Waiting for him then. Tension filled his muscles, though he didn’t make a move. Well, he did make a move actually. He raised his arm and pulled it across his chest with the other, stretching the muscles as he watched the males. He had a moment of satisfaction in seeing that all five sets of eyes darted to the motion of his arm to ensure it wasn’t a threat, and then to the gun that the motion exposed in the line of his suit when he pulled the other arm in the opposite direction.
“I don’t suppose the plan was to make a suicide run?” he said, his tone almost amused as he placed his paws at his back well within view of the wolves, arching to stretch the muscles there. “Breaking in through the rear of the courtroom, going down in a hail of bullets to reach your target?”
“It’s been decided that as long as you’re alive, it will be more costly to reach our target,” the white replied, as they seemed to pay him the courteously of allowing him to stretch. Confidence on their part. “So, we’re going to remove you.”
Nick doubted the white male was really the one in charge of this pack even among those in the alley. No, if he had to guess, it was the grey wolf that held his tongue towards the rear of the group. He watched with a predatory, calculating sort of patience that didn’t require him to step up to the front unless it was really needed.
Nick supposed he would need to make sure it was needed.
“Five larger predators against little me,” Nick said, tilting his head from side to side and rolling it once before focusing on the white-furred male again. “It hardly seems fair.”
“We’ve studied how you fight,” said another of the wolves, which seemed to be a cue for all of them to reach for the swords on their backs. The whisper of sharp metal leaving their sheaths filled the alley all at once, swords that were relatively long but not so long that they would be a hindrance within the walls of the alley. At least, not in skilled hands. “You’re fast and very good. But you lack reach.”
“I could always just,” he began and stopped to tug his jacket open to show the guns.
“But you won’t,” the white continued, seeming unphased as the display of the guns. “You might get one or two of us, but it would also draw attention. The sound of gunfire would have the ZPD clearing the courthouse, forcing a change in the date of the appeal. That would be risky, force you to bring her out into the open again.”
“True, though I’m pretty sure that will happen one way or the other, if I survive,” he replied, releasing an overly dramatic sigh as he reached behind his back and freed the baton from its sheath. He saw what they likely already knew; they were at their own disadvantage, having picked this alley as the battleground. While wide enough for them to move easily, it was still too narrow for more than two of them to come at him at any given time. That was, unless some of them got behind him. “Should I draw a line in the sand, snowball? Don’t make me start a howl to get you moving…”
“We do not howl at shadows,” the Alpha of the group said sharply, cutting his sword through the air with a sharp whistle of air. “We kill them.”
___________________________________
The courtroom was respectfully quiet, for the most part. Only those who had some stake in the case, or knew the defendant directly, had been allowed into the courtroom. The mammals seated in the viewing gallery were a surprising group, though what had surprised her the most was the appearance of Neveen in the front row behind her. Though the two said nothing to each other, and the vixen hardly spared her a glance, it did start Judy thinking. Had Nick known that she would be here? If he had, it would explain why he had been so willing to allow her to enter without his protection. Especially as Neveen had brought her own personal, and often invisible, bodyguard into the courtroom somehow.
Though even more telling was where in the gallery she had chosen to sit: directly behind Judy herself, on the side of the defense. The fact that this was a huge showing was not lost on the bunny, and she wondered if that was the real reason the courthouse was on such firm lockdown.
That thought was set aside, however, as she turned her attention to the otter sitting beside her. In pawcuffs, ankle shackles, and a muzzle as was required by law due to the nature of his crime, the older mammal looked about as groomed as was possible for someone who had come directly from prison.
“Don’t worry,” she said in a light whisper as she shifted through the papers on the table in front of her. She had already handed over all evidence to the bailiff, a large rhino who stood beside the evidence table to ensure that nothing was tampered with before the appeal began. “Everything is going to be fine, Mr. Otterton. I have enough evidence to prove reasonable doubt.”
“Enough to prove who really did it?” the otter asked, his voice muffled by the muzzle as he turned tired eyes to her. Tired, but angry at the same time.
“I,” she began, and was cut off when the door at the rear of the courtroom swung open, causing the rhino to stomp his hoof once on the ground loudly and stand at attention.
“All rise,” he bellowed, pausing for a moment as mammals all around pushed to their feet as the diminutive sheep in black robes walked towards the high bench. “The Honorable Chief Justice Bellwether presiding.”
Calming the twisting of nerves in her belly, Judy stood with perhaps more confidence than she felt as she watched Bellwether take her place at the top of the high bench. The sheep sat and adjusted her glasses as she looked out over the courtroom.
“You may be seated,” she said, lightly tapping her gavel before setting it aside and folding her hooves in front of her as she waited for everyone to settle. “This court recognizes the appeal of the ruling in the case of Emmitt Otterton vs the Mammals of Zootopia.”
Judy swallowed once as the Chief Justice turned her gaze onto her directly for a moment, making her feel as though the eyes of every mammal in the city were on her. She steadied herself, raised her ears, and prepared to deliver on all the promises she had made to herself and the mammal sitting beside her as Bellwether continued.
The suit was crisp and pressed, with everything in perfect order. The collar of the white shirt, which had been worn more times than could be remembered now, looked like new against the gray of her fur and the simple silk tie was neatly knotted at her throat. The lapels were wrinkle and line free, smooth under the touch of her paws as she checked herself in the mirror one last time. Not just the suit. For a case of this importance, she had to be sure that everything was perfect down to the last strand of fur around her muzzle. A bunny didn’t appear before the eyes of a city like Zootopia looking less than professional, and she was pretty sure she was pulling that off even if she felt like throwing up. She managed a rueful grin at herself in the mirror as she considered the irony of how nervous she was about the long-awaited day in court. She was as ready as she possibly could be, knew she had a solid case and had no doubt that she wouldn’t be breaking down in front of the court like some first-year student trying to get past their first opening statement.
The feeling of irony was more about the figure that still slept in the bed behind her, sheets covering the lower half of his body while his torso remained bare. And she was shameless in her admiration of what she could see for a moment, the narrow but strong build of the predator so different from the males she had been raised around. It wasn’t a fair comparison, of course - as if anything in the rules of attraction and emotion was fair in her mind currently - but she wasn’t going to deny the fact that the orange and cream body of the Todd was more appealing than any buck she had ever known. Nor was she was going to deny that a part of that attraction was the danger of it all, the strength of the male who had protected her time and time again, and even the secrets he had kept from her.
She could have felt bad about that because she had never been interested in the tough guy/bad buck archetype that attracted so many of her friends through the years, but she didn’t. Mostly because she knew he wasn’t playing a part just to get some tail as so many males did. He just was what he had made of himself with the life he had, and what he had made of himself was insanely dangerous. And protective, helpful, supportive when she least expected it, spontaneously funny at times, sarcastic and sweet. The layers that had peeled away over the short time she had known him showed her who he would have been if his life had been different and if that trend continued?
You are Twitterpated, she thought to herself in words that had annoyed and embarrassed her when she’d heard them the first time. Turning away from the mirror to face the bed and look over the long, angular muzzle that rested on the pillow, she realized that she could have spent a long time looking at him. Leaving the bed to get ready for the case had been an exercise in willpower that had taken her longer than it should have and had made her wonder how he resisted the pull of alcohol every day. Or how he resisted her if his words about her being more alluring than drink were true.
Nibbling on her lower lip, she moved to the edge of the bed, watching the rise and fall of his chest before reaching out. She hesitated for a moment with her paw over his shoulder, then grinning to herself and indulged by letting that paw slide to his chest. Her fingers stroked through his fur slowly, savoring the warm depth of it and the strength of the body below it before she opened her muzzle.
Before she could say his name to wake him, however, her heart jumped into her throat when his paws reached out for her. For about a quarter of a second, she thought maybe he was having some killer fox/bodyguard instinctive reaction to being touched and expected to find herself in a great deal of pain. But that quarter of a second was all it took for his arms to wrap around her, one large paw pressed into the small of her back and the other behind her head, dragging her into the bed with him to squeeze the full length of her body against his. The surprise of it all was compounded by the chittering rumble that rose in his chest - where her face was now buried – and the tip of a long muzzle that nestled between her ears with a huff of hot breath.
While finding herself wrapped up and squeezed into the obviously still sleeping fox had not been her intention, being pressed into the scent and warmth of his body was hardly something she could complain about. Plus, the tickle of his breath against her ears was soothing and appealing all at once, causing her to release a little sigh into his chest ruff. All in all, the temptation to stay where she was for a few minutes longer was difficult to resist and the little smile that curved her lips. She released a little sigh, took just a moment to revel (wallow) in the still strange closeness she felt to the male, before she spoke in an almost conversational tone that seemed incredibly loud in the otherwise silent room.
“Nick, you’re going to wrinkle my suit,” she said, reluctantly turning her nose away from his chest and looking up so she could see his face. And as she’d expected, it didn’t take a lot of the spoken word to wake him, no matter how soft her voice was. Deep green eyes cracked open slightly as his ears flicked once, then blinked open fully. It didn’t surprise her how quickly the eyes became sharp and alert, though the smoky change in them when his gaze settled on hers set her pulse racing. His gaze moved over her for a moment, as if taking inventory of the fact that she was no longer naked, though his paws didn’t release her as he did so.
“You woke up before me?”
“That you asked that question answers it,” she said, her nose twitching twice as he turned his muzzle up and parted it in a huge, very toothy yawn. A sight that shouldn’t really have been as interested as it was, considering, but she kept her eyes on him as he licked his muzzle and turned his eyes back to her with a slow blink.
“I didn’t hear an alarm. Didn’t have trouble sleeping, did you?”
“No, I just woke up before you,” she muttered, her ears burning slightly as she remembered exactly what had dragged her out of sleep. She half expected him to simply accept that as the answer, though of course, he didn’t.
“Ah,” he murmured, seeming to catch the hint from her blush. Or maybe her scent. Neither of which he helped by nestling his muzzle against the base of one of her ears for a few quick sniffs. “I woke you up.”
“Insistently,” she replied, turning her ear away from his muzzle before the shivers trickling down her spine got out of control. Then she raised her eyes to him again, with a grin parting her muzzle as she managed to maneuver both paws to press into his chest, claws dragging through his fur until she felt him react in a very obvious way. “And you can stop that. I’m already awake and I have a court date to keep.”
“I don’t think any male has that kind of self-control,” he said, smirking down at her as she smirked up at him in kind.
The compulsive desire to kiss him was strong, especially considering how close their muzzles were together. But as intimate and alluring as the moment was? There was also a lot still weighing on her mind, still too much to do today to allow herself to get distracted by entertaining the idea of lingering in bed. And kissing him for the first time, she had no doubt, would be as much of a distraction as her ‘alarm clock’ was presently being. Finding the words or the will to actually move away from him was taking longer than she had thought it would, however. Luckily, he spoke for her.
“Well, unless you want a lot more of that insistence, you’re going to need to get out of bed and let me go shower,” he murmured softly, causing another little shiver to race down her spine, which set her tail to twitching quickly.
“You have to get your paw off my butt for me to get out of bed,” she commented, pleased with how calm she kept her tone considering how aware she was of him at that moment. And how fast her heart was racing when he leaned in close enough for his slowly flaring nose to touch to her twitching one.
“Shame,” he muttered, which caused her to grin at him when he slid his adventuring paw up to the small of her back for a moment before he wrapped both arms around her and surprised her with a warm, tight, sigh-inducing hug.
Then, before she even realized what was happening, he released her and sat up, rolling forward in a quick motion that had him tumbling off the foot of the bed and land on two paws. There he stretched, in all of his glorious nudity, long and lean and strangely beautiful for a long moment with a low growl rolling through his chest. It was enough to have her sitting up on the bed with the desire to reach out just to run her paws down his back.
Down, Judy. Down.
“I can be ready in fifteen minutes,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder without turning to face her. He continued to watch her as she dragged herself out of bed, smoothed down her suit, and did a quick check on herself before grabbing her phone from the side table.
“No rush,” she said with a quick glance at her watch as he made his way out the door. “We still have two hours before I need to be in court, so taking possible traffic and reporters into account, you can take twenty.”
He gave a short laugh, which she enjoyed, before leaving the room and her to her thoughts. And clean up. While her suit was thankfully wrinkle resistant and required nothing more than a few tugs to put everything back in place, her fur was a little more of a mess. She spent the next few minutes brushing and combing, listening to the sounds of the shower as she did so. With everything quickly put back into place, and the shower still running, she stepped out of the bedroom and walked to her desk. Her note pad, where she had been taking her notes for the cast since arriving in Zootopia, sat open to the first page of her two-page Opening Statement. Picking it up, she read over it once quickly, muttering to herself and taking her pen to make a minute change to the wording of the opening. Then, because she didn’t believe there was such a thing as being too prepared, she set her notes down and walked into the center of the room.
“Your honor,” she began, fully certain that if she could run through the statement without a hiccup after spending a night in the arms of her bodyguard?
Then she would have no problem doing the same with the eyes of the city on her.
Sticky dread clung and pressed against her chest like a suffocating force as the last image followed her out of the nightmare, dread that caused her already quick heartbeat to speed up further as she sat up with the sheets clenched in one paw. With eyes wide in the darkness, her gaze darted to every corner illuminated by the faint shafts of light from the window, nose twitching rapidly. The instinctive need to be out of the dark overwhelmed her as even the sheet she clutched to her chest started to feel like a trap. Looking down at it for a heartbeat, she flung it away from her before kicking it away and all but leaping from the bed.
The flash from the window was followed almost instantly by the roar of thunder, causing the entire office to vibrate and leading her to understand what had woken her from the dream. It also made her jump and flinch, the need to run almost overpowering. So much so that she rushed to the light of the partly opened door and rushed through without thinking, almost stumbling into the main room to calm her heart and catch her breath. Wide lavender eyes moved around the familiar room.
Familiar, except for the fact that it was empty.
Judy had never stepped out of the bedroom without the fox being there. Usually, he was just sitting or looking out the windows in what she assumed was the normal paranoia of a bodyguard. Always brooding. Except recently, when the brooding stopped as soon as she came out of the bedroom. What her thoughts were on his stoic face softening every time she came into the room wasn’t on her mind now. It was the fact that, aside from the sizzle of the rain and the low-toned rumble of more distant thunder, the office was completely quiet. The lights were on, the chair on the opposite side of the desk was pushed out as if he had just been in it, the bathroom was dark, and the TV was silent.
All she could think was that he was gone. Maybe, under normal circumstances, this would simply have made her curious but, with the nightmare still pulling at threads of thought that she had refused to pluck, the dread only clutched at her chest harder. He couldn’t leave her alone here! Maybe before coming to Zootopia, she had believed that she would find a way but now? Now she understood that he had been right. The city would be the death of her, and the politics in motion were too big for her to deal with without someone beside her to keep it from crushing her.
Panic rose as a weak sound escaped her throat when she tried to call his name, pushing away from the bedroom and heading towards the front door. The second time she tried to call his name, she found her voice as she reached the front door.
“Nick!”
Light from the open door spilled over the fox in the rain, no more than three feet from the door and moving towards her, bringing her to a sudden stop. His arm was already raised and whatever nightmare Neveen had warned her about was taken by the worry that instantly clouded his visage. Worry that was quickly replaced with a darkening of his eyes, a ready tension sweeping through him as one paw moved behind his back when sharp green eyes moved behind her. Searching for whatever had chased her into the night after him. A keen protective instinct that had saved her more than once already, but one that was befuddled quickly when she closed the distance between them and wrapped her arms around his torso.
“Carrots?”
Her name was the only word he spoke, even as one of his paws rested between her shoulder blades as she breathed in what of his scent she could find through the rain-soaked shirt. She knew he realized that nothing was chasing her when his other paw, relaxing from the baton at his back, joined the other around her. Whether he was trying to figure out what had driven the half-naked bunny into the night looking for him, or he was simply allowing her a moment, she wasn’t sure. But as she pressed her cheek into his chest and felt the warmth seeping through into her fur, she was glad he didn’t say anything. It allowed the panic to subside and the images of the nightmare to become cloudy and distant as nightmares usually did once the waking mind took over for the subconscious fully. It wasn’t until her nose stopped twitching and her heart rate had dropped by half that she drew a deep breath and raised her head, looking up at him without letting him go.
“The storm makes it impossible to hear outside,” he explained, now mostly curious green eyes bright in the light from the door, “so I went out to walk the perimeter.”
“You’re not going to leave me alone in this city, are you?” she asked bluntly, as even fading images left lasting impressions and fears lingering in her gut. Fears that were, by and large, diminished by the confused frown that tugged at his muzzle when he shook his head slowly.
“No. I thought that was clear by now.” She understood what he meant. His chance to leave had been obvious when she had threatened to end their partnership on all fronts if he didn’t explain who he was and why he was doing what he was doing. And secretive as he had been, right up to not telling her that his sister was The Administrator the day they had their meeting, he had told her what she wanted to know. When she nodded and rested her head against his chest again without a word, he squeezed her shoulder with one paw lightly. “Let’s get inside. You’re hardly dressed for the rain.”
She gave a small nod, allowing him to turn her to walk by his side as he led her into the office again. Her ears were low as she huddled close to him, feeling the cold of the rain on them for a moment now that he wasn’t acting as a sort of shield against it. Still, the back of her nightshirt was soaked and Nick was dripping onto the floor as he released her and turned to close the door.
“Hold on, I need to get a towel,” he said, one paw squeezing her shoulder lightly before he made his way towards the bathroom.
The bunny watched him go, almost feeling every step that put more distance between them, until she started to shiver again. She realized that she didn’t want to be alone. She didn’t want him outside again, out of her sight again. Not even if it meant he was just in the office one door away. Even the chair that he had once moved into her bedroom next to her wasn’t close enough. She didn’t want to be alone at all and wasn’t sure she would be able to sleep at all if she had to.
“The storm is supposed to pass before morning,” came his voice, muffled by the towel he had draped over his head as he walked out of the bathroom, his chest bare as he had left the soaked shirt inside. “So, at least we’ll have clear skies for the drive to co…”
His voice died when he lifted the towel. The fact that she was now holding her wet nightshirt in one paw at her side was obviously the reason for the sudden silence. That silence was broken when she let the wet cloth hit the floor with a light ‘splat’, watching his eyes widen – and then sharpen - as she pushed her underwear down. Heat rose under her fur and inside of her ears as she bent over to tug them free of her foot and drop them on top of the shirt. She watched his nostrils flare, watched the creamy fur of his chest rise and fall as he lowered the towel to his shoulders. She worried that she had made too much of a show of it.
Or not enough of one.
“I don’t want to sleep alone,” she managed to say, somehow keeping her voice from cracking as she moved towards the fox that seemed to be watching every inch of her body all at the same moment. When she reached him, she felt the heat of the blush intensify almost as much as the basic attraction she felt for the male as she reached out boldly to tug on the buckle of his belt. “I want you in bed, and our clothes are wet. I just don’t want to be alone. And our clothes are wet.”
“Yes, you mentioned that,” he said, making no move to stop her as she focused her attention on unbuckling his belt, unfastening his pants, and then pushing them down his hips. There was an intimacy to the act, and somehow the fact that she really wasn’t looking for sex seemed to make it more so. His voice almost made her stop when she was faced with the boxer-briefs he wore, and what was outlined so clearly by them. “But you’re right. Wouldn’t want you to be distracted.”
“It’s not like I would be thinking about the case. You know. During,” she defended, using the little huff in her voice to quickly pull the fabric down. Then, of course, she held her breath as he stepped out of them, leaving her with her first good sight of him. And much like he had, her gaze seemed to want to be everywhere at once and every breath she drew was curious, interested.
How had she thought this was a good idea?
“Oh, I know you wouldn’t be during, Carrots.” The daze of near innocent lust was broken by a low chuckle from him, causing her eyes to lift to meet his as she tilted her head slightly. “I was talking about being distracted during your court appearance.”
While there was playfulness in the tone, probably intended to relax her and possibly him at the same moment, the words struck her as very likely true. And very arousing at the same time.
“Well, that’s not helping,” she muttered, as heat that had nothing to do with the annoyingly persistent blush started to rise. It was a good enough reason for her to reach out and snatch the towel away from him to run over her own ears, which were only slightly damp, as she turned to head towards the bedroom. “No more jokes from you until morning, Mr. Fox.”
She could almost feel the smirk from the male as she realized that pretty much anything she said at this point could be taken as innuendo. She ignored it, and the feeling that he was watching every step she took as he followed her into the bedroom. Once they were inside, almost as if he knew she was going to ask it of him, he stepped past her as she left the towel hanging on the doorknob. She watched him as he climbed into bed, not making a show of it in the slightest. All joking was set aside now, obviously, his motions were quick and to the point, his expression calm and relaxed as he settled onto his side with his back pressed against the wall. This left her with plenty of room to join him, which after a moment of staring into his eyes for assurance, she did. Her tail twitched slightly as she slipped into bed beside him, under the sheet, to lay on her side facing away from him. And instantly, she regretted the choice. Shouldn’t she be facing him? Didn’t she want to hold him or be held by him? Was it easier to do that when she was facing him? If she moved now and pushed back against him, maybe he would take that as an invitation that she wasn’t ready to make.
These thoughts had her staying still, silent, and uncomfortably staring into the dark for a long moment. She listened to the sound of his breathing, let his scent filter into every light twitch of her nose, trying not to move for fear that her discomfort and embarrassment would be obvious. Then, she felt the warmth of a large paw on her shoulder. Squeezing gently, causing her to close her eyes as it slipped down her body slowly to wrap around her waist. She offered no resistance when he pulled her into the warmth of his body, tucked her close against him until every inch of her was nestled into warm fox fur and she was fully surrounded by his scent.
“Goodnight, Judy,” he murmured as he tucked his muzzle between her ears, making her feel enveloped and protected under him.
It was the first time in weeks that the case wasn’t on her mind, that the city didn’t feel like it was pressing down around her. Even with the twinge of excitement and the nervous flutter of her belly at having him so intimately pressed against her, she felt more relaxed than any other time since leaving Bunnyburrow. So, when she finally closed her eyes again, she released a contented sigh and just let herself be held while the sound of the rain outside and the gentle whispers of his breath tempted her to sleep.
“Almost ready. I have to be at the courthouse a little ahead of time. But I woke up early,” she said as she flipped through the printouts and notes she had prepared without looking up at him. She already knew that he was sitting in the seat across from her, or looking out the window overlooking the front entrance to the small office as he often did. “So, there is no need to…”
Her voice died away when she raised her eyes and realized he wasn’t in front of the desk as she’d expected. For some reason, this sent a quick shiver of dread through her that had her setting the papers aside as she stood from the chair and walked around the desk.
“Nick?”
When there was no answer to her call, her heart quickened as an odd spike of fear shot through her. On a whim, she rushed to the bathroom door but already knew he wasn’t in there, then the bedroom, which was as still and quiet as one would expect an empty room to be. Frowning, her heart now racing as uncharacteristic dread gripped her, she ran to the door and flung it open.
“Nick!?”
“I’m telling you, nothing good will come of it,” someone said, causing her to turn to face the slightly blurry figure of the older buck speaking to her. Familiar scents surrounded her, a feeling of overall welcome and comfort. And deep annoyance as the voice continued. “No way you’re going to be taken seriously in a place like The Foxes Den! They’d as likely have you for dinner as listen to a bunny in a suit.”
“Dad,” she replied, thinking herself incredibly patient and wise for an eighteen-year-old who hadn’t even gotten into law-school officially yet, “just because there is a ban on bunnies in Zootopia doesn’t mean they eat us. That’s dumb. If they wanted to eat us, why would they have kicked us out?”
“Because they’re crafty,” the blurred image of her father said, making her roll her eyes towards the ceiling. “And they’re hungry. And you can’t trust them. They can’t suppress their base instincts. Ask anyone.”
“Foxes eat bunnies, that’s what they were sayin’,” another voice came, causing her to turn to face the bars of the cell that stood between her and the huskily built fox that sat curled in the corner like an animal. The signs that he had been beaten were clear, especially when he raised one swollen eye to look at her. “Sayin’ I was gunna eat him, that I was a predator and I shouldn’t-a been in the Commonwealth at all. Like I’m the only one here.”
“What they were saying doesn’t matter, Mr. Gray,” she replied, taking notes in the single notepad she had been allowed to bring into the holding area. None of them took her seriously, not that it was hard to understand why. The cheap, ugly, tan-colored goodwill suit she had managed to piece together didn’t exactly scream ‘Experienced Lawyer’ in her mind, but that wouldn’t really matter. And she was the only lawyer that would take this case willingly, so she was determined to prove, twice over, that appearances didn’t matter. “What matters is the truth. What matters is the law and justice. When someone is abused by the system, a victim of circumstantial evidence and a desire to quickly pin the blame on the obvious, then what you have is two cases of the law failing to defend the innocent.”
“What matters are the facts, Miss Hopps,” Bellwether said in a toneless voice from far away. Far away because the podium of the Chief Justice where she sat seemed three times taller than it should have been. This made the bunny’s stomach drop as she tilted her head back to try to see the tiny glowing white figure, almost godlike, above the courtroom. “Are you bringing me facts, or do you expect Zootopia to accept another second-rate defense?”
“I have facts!” she insisted, holding up the thick folder overflowing with photos and testimony. “You know as well as I do that he’s innocent, otherwise why would you have heard this case at all?”
“And why would I have let you into Zootopia, if I didn’t want this injustice cleared up?” came the smooth, feminine voice of the vixen that walked around her. The question made her mind wander for a moment. Why was she in Zootopia, if not for Otterton? The thought was short lived as Neveen walked in front of her chair, arms crossed over her chest as she looked down at the bunny with cool eyes. It was uncanny how much the orange fur and dark ear tips reminded her of Nick.
That thought that brought back a lingering dread as she glanced to her side. The seat where Nick was supposed to be lay empty, causing her to sit up a little straighter. And just as quickly, she shrank back with a whimper when the vixen leaned closer to her, her face a little blurred. A little deformed. Her teeth were too prominent, her eyes too bright, her smile too wide as she placed her paws on either side of the bunny.
A bunny that was now felt naked as she curled up, trembling.
“Did you think he was going to stay by your side forever?” the vixen said, her voice just as smooth and pleasant, even if the sound of it spelled death to the rabbit. “You’re not even food to mammals like my brother and me. You already know that you’re nothing more than a pawn in this city, so what would make you think that a Wilde would see you as anything more?”
“He’s not like you!” she shouted, gathering her strength to reach up with both paws and shove the vixen away. She turned into the alley, which was overwhelmingly dark and silent save for soft grunts and moans from directly ahead, coming from a tiny point of light. Her stomach rolled as she moved forward, through the darkness as her paws soaked in the wet filth from the hard street and the world around her became more twisted and deformed. Among buildings where the bricks were the teeth of predators, that point of light started to become clear even as the world around her darkened.
There was the snowy form of the reporter Harridan, her skirt up around her hips and her paws pinned to the wall, with Nick behind her, rutting into her urgently with his dark paws gripping her hips tightly. He didn’t even notice her when she weakly called his name. The stink of liquor filled her nose, adding to the sickness that washed over her when the obviously delighted vixen turned and grinned at her with a mouth filled with jagged, shark-like teeth.
“Don’t worry, little bunny,” she moaned, a snake-like tongue sliding over her muzzle. “He’ll get what you need out of me, once I get what I need out of him.”
Then one paw was extended, the receipt in hand.
Closing her eyes to push down the revulsion and pain of the scene, she turned to run just as the walls of the alley tried to close in around her. The teeth of predators snapped at her, slicing close to her fur and flesh almost playfully, tauntingly letting her know that they could have her at any moment. She screamed as one nipped her heel, tearing her skin as she stumbled. The savage walls started to close in on her, making her throw her hands over her head in a desperate attempt to defend herself from the city that intended to murder her.
“The foundation of every rising power has its fair share of expendables,” came a low voice from directly in front of her, causing her to open her eyes as her nose twitched. The walls - with their teeth now dripping blood that she knew wasn’t hers - started to draw away, folding back before the shadow that moved towards her. Wide purple eyes watched the almost shapeless mass with white glowing eyes move towards her, a billow of smoke rising from what might have been a head. The figure stood over her for a moment, exhaling audibly in a long stream of smoke that swirled around her, cutting off her ability to breathe as the tendrils became clawed fingers that gripped and squeezed around her. “Every pawn is expendable. But the mastermind?”
Her vision started to darken as the eyes leaned closer to her, narrow and amused.
The silent cell phone was the only light in the grimy apartment and that light bounced in the unsteady hands of the lanky male as he stared at the silent screen. Fidgeting had become almost second nature to him since that little bunny bitch had come into town, asking her questions and looking at him as if she knew everything he’d ever done. It made his eye twitch just to think about it. But of course, she didn’t. If she knew half the things he’d done, he doubted she would have been so quick to attack him. ZPD be damned, he still intended to make her pay for insulting him. Pay bloodily.
Twitch.
He would have already, if not for Nick being beside her twenty-four/seven. Sticking it to the soft, hot body under that lawyer’s clown costume, he imagined. No other reason someone like Nick would be involved, not that he could see. Weaselton didn’t think anyone could blame him for being afraid of the fox. His fight with the tiger might have been surprising to most of the city, but back in the days when he’d still been allowed at Wild Times, he had seen Nick ‘take care’ of all kinds of problems for the fennec fox. Size had never been an issue, had it? He’d even silently cheered once or twice himself, seeing some smug bastard in a fancy suit dragged out by the ears or carried out on a stretcher. That had been before the weasel had bitten one of the whores and was kicked out himself. Banned. All he’d wanted was a little taste.
Just like he wanted a taste of that bunny.
Twitch.
“Come on, come on,” he muttered at the still-silent phone, watching the minutes tick by as he sat away from the windows, away from the door, and made sure he cast no shadows. He wasn’t expecting it to ring yet. Just like every time he received a package with a disposable cell phone in it, there was always a time included with the delivery. Now he just wanted it to be time already so that it would ring. Sneering at the 8:59 pm on the screen, he snarled and glanced around at the inky blackness of the room. Every shadow in the roomy, uptown, but the unkept apartment was suspect in his eyes. While he was already a male whose personality sat on the edge of jumpy, waiting for these calls always enhanced that. Not that he expected a knife in the dark, but…
The cheerful chime of the phone caused him to jump only slightly, his paws scrambling for a moment until he managed to swipe one thin finger over the screen to answer the unknown number.
“They sent me a summons,” he said instantly once the phone was pressed to his ear, managing to stay seated even though the nervous energy made him want to stand up and pace.
“Yes, I am aware,” was the calm reply from the voice that he had never been able to place. Male, but that was about it, which pissed him off to no end. “But your partner has not. Do you have an explanation?”
“Why would I have an explanation?” he snapped sharply, frowning as his mind raced through the interview with the stupid bunny. He had given the same answers that he’d given when filing the report and when questioned in court the first time around. “I said exactly what we planned!”
“We planned?”
The haughty tone of very mild annoyance was enough to cause the weasel to shiver slightly, swallowing hard as he cradled the phone closer to his muzzle. “Uh, I mean what you planned. I said exactly what you wanted, both times.”
“Luckily for you, I know you followed the script.” This time the voice was oddly soothing, even if the tone hadn’t changed in any noticeable way. “However, it has come to my attention that Miss Hopps paid a visit to the impound lot and that she spent a good deal of time searching Otterton’s car. I thought I was clear that you were to make sure nothing was to be left to chance?”
“It was clean! I went over that car from top to bottom,” he pressed, his eyes darting from side to side for a moment as he tried to think of anything he could have missed. “It wasn’t even at the scene and I was nowhere near it until days after, so I don’t see how there could have been anything important anyway.”
“Of course you don’t. Which is why you are working for me, and not the other way around.” The coldness of the tone was enough to keep the insult from rising into anger in the small mammal, though his paw flexed on the phone for a moment before the voice continued. “An item was recovered from the vehicle, but not by Miss Hopps. This minor detail managed to slip my attention because the one holding this item was smart enough to keep it hidden. That is, until recently, when it found its way into the paws of Miss Hopps’ surprisingly adept bodyguard.”
“A-an item?” he said, swallowing hard as his mind raced, trying to think of anything at all that could be linked back to him. “What item?”
“A receipt, it seems. But much to my annoyance, I have not been able to find out exactly what the receipt is for.” Another brief pause before the voice continued. “Not to worry, Weaselton. There is nothing anywhere that can directly link you to the case as anything more than the responding officer. I made sure of that a long time ago.”
“Then what’s the problem?” he asked, his tone one of uneasy curiosity more than demanding to know why he was being harassed about something he couldn’t be linked to anyway.
“If you cannot see the main problem, then I don’t feel the need to explain it to you,” was the reply, which had the weasel grinding his teeth so hard that his jaw ached. “But beyond that, there is the simple fact that you failed me.”
“How was I supposed to know about one stupid receipt?” he demanded, jumping off the chair and waving one paw in the air in annoyance.
“I was very clear that everything was to be removed from the car. And have you ever known me to exaggerate?”
“Fine, I messed up. What now? You gonna have me killed?”
He desperately hoped that the fearless bravado in his voice hid the actual fear that had his fur standing on end.
“Of course not,” the now-amused voice replied, the tone dismissive and almost jovial. “You do watch too many movies, Mr. Weaselton. Having you killed would open more investigations, draw more attention, and make it clear that someone is trying to silence you. However, our working relationship has come to an end. And you will no longer find yourself protected within the ZPD.”
He stood in shocked silence for a moment, his ears pinned back against his head as he thought of how much easier his life had been since he’d become the inside mammal at the ZPD.
“You can’t do that,” he said weakly, shaking his head quickly as he started to pace the room. “You need me in the ZPD!”
“I assure you, I don’t need anything more from you.”
“Yeah? Well, how about you keep me in the ZPD and I don’t let slip to the press who you are?”
There was a short moment of silence from the other end of the line, followed by what could only be called an exasperated, amused sigh followed by an icy chuckle.
“You don’t know who I am, Mr. Weaselton.”
“Oh yeah?” he demanded, licking his lips nervously at the tone and the statement both. “How can you be sure?”
“Because you’re still breathing,” the simple reply came, followed by an almost wistful sigh. “Let’s not end this badly, Weaselton. I don’t take well to weak threats and I don’t give them myself. I did mean what I said. I have no intention of killing you, unless you force my paw. So, since you are good at following scripts, follow this one. Write it down if need be. Are you listening?”
“Y-yeah,” he said, trembling from head to toe as he stared down at the tiny red dot that glowed in the center of his chest. “I’m listening. Sir.”
“Good rodent,” came the now completely business-like voice. “Whatever the outcome of the appeal, during which you will continue to adhere to the scripts I’ve prepared for you, you’re going to take an early retirement from the ZPD. Chief Bogo might even be so grateful that you could receive a minor pension, to help you on your way out the door. You will refuse to talk to the media. You will not write a book. You will stay off of social media. Much to my surprise, it seems that you have been smart enough not to spend the exorbitant amount I have been paying you, so you are sitting on a tidy sum. More than enough for you to live quietly, unnoticed, and unimportant for the rest of your life. Doesn’t that sound generous?”
Weaselton said nothing, just kept staring at the tiny dot on his chest, the heart it targeted beating so fast that he felt light-headed. Finally, he nodded in agreement when his voice failed him.
“I can’t hear a nod - even if I can see it - Mr. Weaselton. I’m afraid I need you to speak up.”
“Yes, sir,” he said quickly in a raspy tone, feeling the fur on the back of his neck stand on end as, for the first time, he realized exactly how little power he had. “Yes, that is very generous of you.”
“Good! I am not an unreasonable mammal, you see,” the voice now almost cheerful, a rush of breath escaping the small mammal as the red dot on his chest vanished. “You have been of benefit to me for a long time now, and I will not forget that. But I will forget that you exist, if you make that possible. Keep it possible, and this will be the last time you hear from me. Or my more skilled associates.”
“I understand, sir,” he said, and when the call was abruptly ended, he slumped down to the floor. There he lowered his long muzzle into his free paw as he fought back to urge to sob out of basic, uncontrollable fear.
Some extras! Should/could be a regular thing. I will be scripting them. They are offshoots of the main Sunderance story, interesting tidbits, 'deleted scenes' and the like.
A political upstart who rose to prominence during the contentious Embers Election, where her significant contributions delivered Leodore Lionheart the prized mayorship of Zootopia. This victory secured Akemi Kyubi and her vulpine associates, [REDACTED] and [REDACTED], participation into the central government, where she began to [REDACTED] and the founding of the Dominion party.
A heated political war thundered through the state's central branches, where the ever growing influence of the fox club ferociously resisted the Commonwealth's representatives, who [REDACTED] within six months, the Commonwealth’s leadership all but exhausted the public's goodwill, opening doors for powerful vulpine figures to seize the highest positions of government. [REDACTED] led to the disastrous loss of the Freedom of Entry for every leporid citizen, which consequentially expelled an entire specie from the capital city. An infamous event which came to be known as the Rabbit-Ban Act.
In a desperate dash to restrain the outgrown authorities foxes now possessed, the Mammalian Assembly proposed the creation of a new office held by an "Administrator", intended to rein in the badly imbalanced Council to a more fairer plane. This was dramatically subverted when the Assembly [REDACTED] inexplicably transitioned the duty of appointment over to the Council, which they then unanimously purposed it to prop up yet another fox.
Within the span of a few short years, Kyubi is believed to now hold near dictatorial powers over Zootopia and its territories.
To spice things up for these coming months, I am looking to hear input on what our followers would like to see from us. Whether it'd be Sunderance related (faster updates, deleted scenes or a motion comic), Hereafter(sequels, one-shots), Wilde Academy (currently on a hiatus) or anything that's fresh.
I am mainly toying with the idea of producing a motion comic for Sunderance, but I'd like to be certain that there is a solid interest before diving into any such project. If not, I'd love to see what new ideas people might offer. Could be anything from small WildeHopps one-shots or other characters entirely, Canon, Alternate Universes, pure or naughty. I'm opening this journal to allow such discussions.
And as there are likely going to be multiple proposals, Kulkum and I will select the best stuff we fancy and make a poll, as we always do.
“Nick,” she began, unable to even comprehend the idea of being torn away from her family as more than an ache in her chest, one that she was certain was only a fraction of the reality of having everyone he had cared about taken from him. But whatever her aching heart wanted to express to him was cut off when he continued abruptly.
“In person, anyway. Obviously, I saw her on TV and in the news later. After she left, Mr. Big kept tabs on her and kept me as informed as he decided I needed to be, while providing me with just enough information so that I knew she wasn’t in danger – without allowing me the option of going after her. As you can imagine, that didn’t go over well at first,” he added, a toneless sort of humor in the smirk that crossed his muzzle. “At that point, though, I was either tired of the anger or I was tired of yelling because I had learned there was no point. Gotta give Papa credit. A lot of credit. I called him some vile things in anger, things that would have had most other mammals… misplaced.”
And Judy knew that he used the term ‘misplaced’ rather than spell out what exactly happened to those who crossed a figure like Mr. Big, not because he didn’t think she could handle it, but because she was a lawyer. She remained silent, however, her eyes intently focused on his expression and the green eyes that were sometimes focused on her and sometimes in the distant past. Her sense of right and wrong was even present with this knowledge, like an itch at the back of her neck. The itch became maddening, however, when his story moved into territories she had hoped it wouldn’t.
“I was… seventeen, I think, when he started me working with the bears,” he said, leaning back in the chair and folding his hands behind his head as he looked at the ceiling. “It made perfect sense to me at the time. I was his burden, I was draining his time and resources. He should get something back. And I didn’t mind at all. I needed to put all of the impractical training to good use, right? Get into some real fights, and what better way to do that than to meet some less than reputable characters who were being uncooperative? I found out later than he only sent me to acquaintances of his that were already dirty. No innocent shop keepers, no mothers, no goodie-goodie mammals who were just mixed in bad business. No. I was sent to other members of the family who had gotten out of line, bookies who didn’t pay their till, cops on the take who got too greedy, a few cases of excessive violence in the neighborhood. Those were my favorites, the violent ones. They never came quietly, and I was very, very angry at the time.”
“He made you an enforcer for the mob?”
“In a way,” he said, turning his eyes back to her without dropping his arms. She could tell that his relaxed appearance was fabricated; that the smooth, easy tone was forced in a way she had never heard from him before. “He was giving that anger a direction, pointing me towards mammals who deserved it. It was easy enough at first. The first few never saw me coming, big or small. A rat with a pair of lynx bodyguards, a lion who was convinced he was unstoppable, a giraffe…”
“A giraffe? How would you even…”
“Like chopping down a tree,” he said, using two fingers to mime legs as he grinned at her. A real grin, this time. “They’re really tall, but those legs are just begging to be taken out from under them. As long as you avoid getting kicked. Even the bears were wary of the kick. Hard to get the drop on them, too. Good ears, wide range of vision. High head, meaning they can see you coming. But once you have them on the ground… What? You asked.”
“I did,” she sighed, dropping back in her own chair as she looked across at him. It was disturbingly easy to imagine him as an enforcer for Mr. Big as he was now. He could be cold and distant, sometimes seeming emotionless, while at the same time he seemed driven. His drive in her case was to protect her, which was a far cry from being muscle for the mob. “Go on. But not about the giraffes.”
“Right,” he smirked, dropping his arms and leaning forward again. The smirk fell away. In fact, all humor dropped away from the handsome face in the time it took him to lean forward far enough to rest his elbows on his knees. “It seemed to work well enough at first. For a few years. Until I was legally old enough to drink. Don’t look so surprised. Life in the mob isn’t like the movies. They don’t run around like yahoos, breaking laws just because they can. At least, not as I saw it growing up. They were very neat and clean in all respects. Stay inside the law, unless it was official family business. That way, the ZPD can’t arrest you for little nitpicky details like letting a minor drink alcohol. That becomes kind of important later.
“Anyway, the bears took me out for a night on the town to welcome me to adulthood. It was a great night. I was introduced to scotch, which one of the bears explained was what sophisticated mammals of means drank. That first drink damn near killed me, too, or it felt like it at the time. Like swallowing terrible, pungent fire, coughing, and ending up with some of that fire in the nose. Which led to more coughing, watering eyes, the laughter of those around me. But not the mean kind, not like they were making fun of me. The kind where they have all been there themselves, so they could laugh and slap me on the back, and congratulate me. And then pour me another drink. And as the warmth that quickly saturated my blood worked its way right into my brain? I found myself laughing with them. Really laughing, instead of forcing it. And for the first time in years, I was feeling as though there was still some fun to be had in the world. Neveen being gone wasn’t such a huge weight on my shoulders because, when I drank, I never thought about her.
“Which was why I never stopped drinking after that night,” he said lowly, turning his eyes to the bottle on the table before reaching out to take it in one paw. He rolled it around, the amber liquid within coating the inside of the bottle to slowly slide back down in a clean film while he looked at the label without actually seeing what was etched there. “And like when I became an enforcer, it was great at first. An outlet, a way to feel a little more like who I had been before everything had come crashing down. That’s how it catches you, you know. It feels good, until it doesn’t. But by the time it stopped feeling good, I already needed it. And then, when feeling good become misery, stopping becomes pain. It affected everyone and everything around me. Papa told me, more than once, that I needed to clean up my act, but I didn’t listen. Couldn’t really. We fought constantly at this point. Or I fought and he talked calmly back at me, in that way that parents sometimes do. ‘Nicky, you need to stop this drinking. It’s no good. You make me sad, Nicky. Your parents wouldn’t want this, Nicky. Think of the family, Nicky’ and so on, until I just started to tune him out by drinking more.
“And it started to affect my work, in some obvious ways. I became more violent, as angry alcoholics tend to do,” he admitted, setting the bottle down again and focusing his eyes on her fully. “Which led to some messes, for all parties involved. Sometimes I… took it too far. And sometimes I was the one who took the beating, and for the first time the bears had to step in to save me, more than once. I was causing a lot more problems than I was solving, in the end. I had become the sort of problem that I was sent to solve.”
“But you didn’t stop,” she decided, setting aside the violence of the life he had led for now to focus on what was really being explained to her. “Or you couldn’t.”
“It’s the same thing, really, with the same results in the end,” he shrugged, his ears falling flat as his chest rose with a deep breath which he released in a slow exhale. “Mr. Big became more insistent, because he had to. And I was just as resistant. It had reached a point where he told me that I had to stop drinking or get out. So, I got out.”
There was a drawn out silence then as he looked down at his paws for a long moment. It was the sort of silence that would have allowed her time to think about everything that she had been told so far and allowed him to gather his thoughts to tell her the rest. But rather than think, all she found herself doing was watching him. Trying to read him and realized that it was because he was showing emotions he hadn’t shown her before. Regret being in the forefront now, as he released another breath.
“As you might expect, it went downhill fast after that. I had money, of course. My parents’ money, which had been silently split between Neveen and I, and the money Papa had paid me as one of his enforcers, which was no small amount. More than enough to allow a pissed off male to break loose on the world, drink himself into a pit, and wallow in that pit for years. The only time I wasn’t drunk was when I woke up every morning, and that only lasted until I was able to reach over the vixen I had fucked the night before to grab the bottle.”
He seemed aware of the wince that crossed her muzzle at those words and cast her a sympathetic, if wry, grin.
“It went along pretty well with my general attitude at that point,” he admitted, causing her ears to raise as his seemingly nonchalant tone dripped with something akin to self-loathing. “not really giving much of a damn about anything. The females were just warm bodies, sweet smells, disposable pleasure. The love ‘em and leave ‘em idea was my favored means of seduction, which is a terrible thing for a todd to do. Find a pretty bitch, convince her that she’s the most beautiful creature I’d even seen, take her to some expensive hotel, and be gone by morning. I never thought about them afterward and even now, I can’t remember a single name or a face to attach to a name even if I could.
“And I carried on like this for years, getting deeper into the bottle with every passing month. I got into fights regularly, slept with pretty much any female who would have me, got thrown out of so many bars that I had to move into a different part of the city just so I could get a drink. Not that it was hard to do that, because by that point I was living out of hotel rooms. By this time, half the time when I woke up I didn’t remember where I was or how I had gotten there or who I had gone there with. Sometimes I woke up to find I had been robbed, but I never even cared about that. Money was as disposable as everything else.”
“So, what changed?” she asked at length, her brow furrowed and her eyes concerned for the male. Everything about that period of his life seemed so unlike the Nick she knew. The discipline, the skill, the self-control. The caring he showed her.
“Someone knocked some sense into me,” he said, a distantly affectionate smile crossing his muzzle. Not for her, she knew, but for whoever ‘knocked some sense’ into him, though he didn’t mention the name as he went one. “And because of them, I saw Neveen again for the first time in years. In the news. A new rising star in Zootopia politics, going by the name Kyubi, walking alongside the newly elected mayor Lionheart.”
He was silent again, looking down at his paws thoughtfully, and this time she made no move to comfort or press him for more information. She just sat with him for what seemed like minutes before he sucked in a breath and exhaled it in the words that followed.
“She was every bit as bright and full of energy as I remembered before our parents died,” he said, his muzzle turned into a slight frown as he shook his head slowly, “but it was faked. Even as muddled as my mind was, I knew my sister. Every smile she offered the camera, every shy twitch of her ears as she tried to play herself off as demure… Even the sway of her tail was timed. All of it was rehearsed in the extreme.”
“That’s a lot for a drunk fox to see,” she commented, not doubting but because she was curious of how well he knew his sister that he would be able to see that much from a newscast.
“We were inseparable as kits,” he supplied, leaning back in the chair and resting his head against the back. Then, without raising his head, he turned his muzzle to face her. “I don’t know. It all just seemed so wrong. When she started to talk about Lionheart being a force for change in the city, the crowd cheered her passion and bravery and I cringed inside. Because what I heard was anger. An old anger that I recognized, because it was one of a dozen things I had been trying to drown in oceans of liquor.”
“And heartless sex.”
“Yes,” he said, his muzzle quirking slightly as his eyes met hers fully. Not so much amused as he was pleased, she was sure, because she hadn’t been able to keep the annoyed tones from her voice. “And that.
“But that was when I decided to get control of myself. I failed, at first. Miserably. Drinking was almost as much a reflexive habit as it was a physical one for a while. The pain came back, the grief, fuzzy memories of heartbroken vixens without faces. It drove me back to the bottle a few times, before I managed to take control of myself. I watched her while I did this. Even when she tried to vanish from the public eye as Kyubi, I kept tabs on her through Flash and Mr. Big’s sources. Watched a Council that she helped elect ‘elect’ her to an office that hadn’t existed before.”
“She withdrew from the public eye almost entirely before being appointed the roll of Administrator by the Council,” Judy confirmed, remembering the rumors that she had actually been assassinated that had run their course, but were dismissed quickly. “Most people in the city, and in the Common Wealth, don’t even know that they’re the same person.”
“And even fewer know who she really is,” he nodded, “which made sense given what happened to our parents, so I decided to do the same. No one knew who I was, anyway. The Wilde family was dead. So aside from contacting Mr. Big to let him know that I wasn’t passed out in a gutter somewhere – anymore – I removed myself from Zootopia entirely. Got myself a nice setup in the Nocturnal District, somewhere I could watch from a distance without being watched, to see what my angry sister was planning to do with absolute power. It became clear for those who paid attention that things had silently become darker than they were before. Political figures vanishing, an entire district segregated to allow only one species, the return of things like public assassinations.”
“Did you care about the changes?” she asked, nibbling on her lower lip slightly as she considered the idea that The Administrator was at the heart of everything wrong with Zootopia. Or at least, she sat by and did nothing to stop it.
“No,” he said, turning to face the table so he could rest his arms on it as he leaned towards her. “I still don’t. I care about Mr. Big, but none of the laws or anything else that has happened since Neveen took power have affected him at all. I am sure this is by design. I worry about my sister, but I am not going to get in her way. She is my family.”
“Is that why you’re helping me?” she asked, tilting her head slightly as she brought the subject back towards something that she had never gotten an answer to, “because Neveen invited me into the city?”
“No,” he replied simply, green eyes unwavering. “I saw you on TV, when the reporters were asking you if you had protection. You reminded me of Neveen when she was young: bright and full of hope, but helpless. I didn’t want to see you crushed by what the city has become because of my sister.”
“You think I’m helpless?” she asked, frowning as she narrowed her eyes at him, something that only caused a slow grin to spread over his muzzle.
“No. I think you are brave but vulnerable,” he said, reaching one paw across the table towards her, palm pad up. After a moment of hesitation, she reached out to place her paw on it, watching as the much larger paw closed to squeeze gently. She raised her eyes when he continued. “I also think you’re the most dangerous mammal in Zootopia as the city is right now. Which is why I need to protect you.”
Thank all of you for supporting us though our mad (and very long) projects! Since we have no paywalls, we do like to offer something special to our active Patreons in the form of these monthly drop boxes.
New ideas desired! If you've posted an idea, try to come up with something different. Chances are, it wasn't chosen because it didn't hit those creative juices that are so important to art. So give us something new and creative!
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Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
The most openly familiar was the bottle of Meerkat single malt scotch, aged twenty-five years in an oak cask. Lovingly crafted for the more sophisticated alcoholics with the money to spend on it, the unassuming label looked no different than the swill that would cost a meager fourteen Bucks to the casual observer. But as anyone who knew anything about the fine art of drinking knew, the price tag on this particular bottle was not for the timid nor for weekend drinkers. Which made the shot glass sitting beside it, filled to the brim with the fragrant and precious amber liquid, all the more offensive. Especially for those who understood that the small amount in the glass – which came to a value of one hundred and thirty Bucks - would go untasted.
There were sunglasses there as well, which were also of an expensive brand. Not a ‘name brand’ as most thought of them, such as iCarrot or Snarlbucks, companies who were able to charge insane amounts of money for half-assed products based on their name alone. This was the sort of branding that one went to when they were willing to spend real money on something high quality, something that was known in certain circles to be the best for the right price. They were very good at what they had been designed to do - keep bright light from hurting the eyes of the wearer. And they were just as effective at their true purpose – keeping those eyes from being seen.
Between the bottle and the glasses sat the armaments.
The holster was custom made to fit the owner, in the same way a good suit was custom fitted for the one who would wear it, with special modifications made for the types of arms it would be carrying. The cured mantis leather held with no engravings that identified the creator, and there were spots on the edges of the holster itself that were rubbed smooth and darkened with the signs of long-term use. Not a throwaway item, however, as the leather was oiled and cleaned on a regular basis.
Currently in one holster nudged up against the sunglasses was a SP-01 Phantom handgun, heavily modified. It wasn’t the most expensive gun on the market but it was easy enough to modify, acquire, and maintain with a reliable semi-automatic, single action, and – not entirely legally – fully automatic firing options. Rather than the standard polymer, however, the gun had been outfitted with a custom tempered steel frame and textured wooden grips. This both increased the handling in trained hands and allowed the gun to fire hot longer in a drawn-out fight. With sights that were configured with rear straight ledges to allow for one pawed close-range operation, a carefully shaved hair trigger and an eighteen round magazine, it was the perfect firearm for a mammal that needed to be prepared for anything.
At the rear of the holster was the baton. It was something of an enigma, as weapons went. Not exactly the most popular or deadly weapon available. Too long and thick to be easily concealed, prompting the customization of the holster to allow for easy carry. The damage it was capable of against mammals with such thick bone structures as under-prepared tiger assassins were in part due to the fact that it was heavier than it looked. The polished wood exterior was a guise, one that hid the carbon steel core that added weight to every impact in paws that understood how to use it effectively.
Every one of the items on the table seems to spell out some part of the mystery of the fox who sat across from her, a mystery that she needed to be spelled out in terms that would allow her to understand what part he had to play in Zootopia. It did matter that no one seemed to know who he was, except for the most powerful people in the city. One of whom, from what she had already guessed from the delivered cars and polar bear entourage, was the biggest crime boss in the city. Then there was a mysterious information broker who lived in a technological marvel under the city-owned DMV somehow, followed closely by a pimp who had managed to maintain the only brothel left in the city and apparently supplied arms. And then there was the Administrator herself, who was almost as mysterious as Nick from her tower on high. Not only did they all seem to know him, but they all also seemed to react to him with equal parts respect and affection.
She needed to know why. She needed to know why, just as much as she needed to know why the baton sitting on the table bore the same mark that had been written in blood as the dying act of a very powerful General and member of the Council.
“My name is Nicholas Piberius Wilde,” he began, breaking the silence so suddenly that she flinched slightly, her nose twitching as she watched him uneasily.
“The Wildes,” she murmured, feeling a roiling in her gut as she remembered the story that had rocked the entire city and beyond. Affluent, well-liked, and just entering the political theater in a bid to bring change to the city. Mr. Wilde was in a bid to run for the seat of Mayor while Mrs. Wilde had put herself into the race for a seat on the Council. It had been a decade after the events that the case had crossed her desk, in the form of a cold case that was likely to never be closed. “That can’t be right. All of the Wildes are dead.”
“Missing, technically,” he corrected, taking the one hundred and thirty Buck glass of scotch and placing it in front of him. He rolled the glass between his paws slowly, looking into it as if seeing the past in the ripples with his ears pinned flat against his skull. “Presumed dead. My parents are dead, of course. Butchered by what the ZPD liked to call ‘a politically motivated assassination’ while I hid in the closet. The assassins weren’t looking for us, obviously. They were only interested in my parents.”
“Us.”
She said this not in the form of a question as she remembered browsing files of the missing Wilde children. Speculation had ranged from sold into slavery to simply in hiding, though the most popular opinion was that they were dead and the bodies had been disposed of more carefully. Dead kits tended to drive investigations to last longer due to public sympathy, after all. But the cold case file had been something she had seen in passing and even now she couldn’t remember if the name of one of the missing children had been Nicholas. Though now, obviously, it was.
“Yes, ‘us’,” he confirmed with a short nod, raising the glass to breathe in deeply once with a look of intense longing on his face before he set it down again and looked at her with sharp green eyes that were surprisingly focused. “A younger me and my little sister, Neveen.”
It struck her like a blow then, in more ways than one. The reason he called her by a different name than what was on record as her legal name. Not something that would be hard to change, and burry with the right connections. Or enough money. It also explained her drive to change the city, as her parents had wanted to do.
“I didn’t call the police,” he said, settling back in his chair in a way that almost managed to make him look relaxed. “Police were for small things, like annoying protestors outside of the gates or a sound in the middle of the night. For something tangible, my father had told me to call a friend of the family who I had always just called Papa. You would know him as Mr. Big.”
“Which explains the polar bears,” she murmured, mostly to herself even though she never took her eyes off of her. He seemed to take her lack of surprise as a cue to the continue.
“Papa… Mr. Big carted us off that night before the police were even called, assuring us that he would do everything in his power to find out who had done it, and make them pay. Young as I was, a part of me believed that he meant to help the ZPD in their investigation, even if that naiveite was short lived. In the end, on both legal and not-so-legal fronts, nothing came of it.”
He grew silent again as she watched him, feeling a deep sympathy that threatened her need to know everything that he knew. Her instinctive desire to tell him that he didn’t need to go on was suppressed by her lawyer’s desire to get to the truth behind what was happening in the city. And to know more about the fox that haunted her dreams.
“Neveen obviously didn’t take it well,” he continued just as she had been prepared to press him to go on. “She didn’t talk to anyone for days. Weeks. For months she just wandered the mansion – Big decided to keep us close at hand rather than sending us to a safe house. Not a lot of mammals are brave enough to try to breach security comprised of the largest predators in the world – looking lost. And I wasn’t helping her, because I needed help myself. I just kept pushing at Papa for more information, demanding to know why he wasn’t do anything. Pretty typical example of the blame game on my part, all of which he tolerated with a benevolent.
“When my sister did talk, finally, it was to ask me why I let it happen. Why I had let our parents die.”
“How could you have prevented it?” Judy asked, her muzzle turned into a frown as she rested her paws on the table to lean a little closer to him. “You were just a kit. How could she expect you to stop what happened?”
“Because I made a promise that I wasn’t able to keep,” he replied, ear twitching slightly before he waved a paw towards the baton on the table between them. Her eyes were drawn to the crest, the image of that crest drawn in blood filling her mind before she dismissed the instant question. It would wait, which it did when he continued. “My father was always big on being able to defend yourself and those close to you, so from a young age he started to teach me to do just that. And me? I was always closest to my sister. So, in typical big brother fashion, as soon as I thought I was a tough guy after a few lessons with father, I started to brag. And it’s not hard to convince a young vixen that her older brother is the strongest mammal alive.”
“So, you promised her you would protect… Who? Everybody?”
“Kits,” he shrugged, leaning back almost limply in his chair as emerald eyes held hers. “We all say and do stupid things when we’re young. Most of the time, it doesn’t come back to bite you on the ass as hard as it did mine. She blamed me for our parent’s death, and at that age, I believed it. I am a little more mature now – though not much – and I know that she was pushing her anger at me because she couldn’t aim it towards the mammals who had murdered our parents, but at the time… I believed it. I’d failed them.”
“Oh, Nick,” she said, ready to offer denial and comfort as she shifted in her seat only to have him wave it off with a testy hiss between his teeth.
“Don’t,” he said simply, causing her to settle back into her chair with an ache in her chest that refused to go away even as he continued in a bland tone.
“What happens when you convince a kit that it was his own weakness that killed his parents? I don’t think that was her intent, but it was the result of her anger. Before long, I was able to convince Big that I needed to continue the training my father had started, by which I meant that I needed teachers. Sparing partners. A gym. I admit that I took advantage of his desire to help me cope and ended up with the best the mob’s substantial money could buy. Still don’t exactly feel bad about it, to be honest,” he said, a brief grin fluttering across his muzzle before it faded away when his eyes became serious again. “I trained constantly. Stupidly, at first. I was belligerent and angry, telling every instructor presented to me that they were teaching me wrong because they weren’t teaching me like my father. I still managed to learn, though.
“This went on for years,” he said, turning his attention to the glass again as his expression went blank and his ears just sort of… Hung on his head. She could see no expression of any kind for a long moment before he continued in a low tone. “During which, Neveen and I drifted apart. I didn’t notice it, because I had convinced myself that everything I was doing was for her. Stupidly. Not even noticing that sometimes we didn’t see each other for weeks at a time, and when we did there was always a cold sort of resentment from her. Maybe somewhere along the way, her anger was less about our parents and more about the brother who had abandoned her? I’m not sure. I just know that one day, Papa came to my room and asked me where my sister was.”
She watched him draw a deep breath as he raised his head and leaned back in the chair, his eyes showing that there was a great deal of emotion in the male even if his expression showed none of it. It was clear then, why he wore the glasses. His shell wasn’t perfect, and he certainly wasn’t the cold and emotionless figure that he often tried to portray. And seeing his eyes, she could hear the strain in his voice when he spoke.
This piece was inspired by jonboysatterwhite, with his request that I draw Nick's holster. Sadly I don't have the answer to that, Kulkum knows more on the full specificity of what Nick carries.
And this felt like a really interesting piece to tackle. Not to mention a great tease for what's to come.
When lightening arced across the sky again, she frowned in mild annoyance as she turned her eyes to look out over the city and the misty gray that now hung over it. Drawing a deep breath slowly enough that it wouldn’t be noticed by those around her, the vixen released it with a light, airy laugh.
“This was all a little melodramatic, don’t you think?” she said, forcing her gaze to soften as she looked between the Todd and bunny for a moment before she walked towards her desk after gesturing for them to follow her. In part, she did it get her eyes off of him so she could gather herself and brush aside the pestering sentimentality that kept pulling at her. Making her want to be closer to Nick than either of them was ready to admit. And in part, it was because she wanted to show off. Just a little. To make herself feel better and more in control. “Let’s change the mood, shall we?”
Stepping onto the dais and taking her seat, she tapped a few keys on the display to her right to bring up a menu. Once she saw Nick and Hopps take their seats, and felt the presences of Jack on the edges of her vision, she made her selection. The dome around them rippled silently for a moment before light started to slide over the surface, shimmering as the storm outside was slowly transformed. Clouds went from dark gray and angry to white, fluffy and sparse. Gloomy skies and rain became the warm glow of sunlight, which radiated down on the city as the storm was replaced by a picturesque sunny day.
A pleased sigh escaped her as she looked around for a moment and was gratified when she turned her eyes back to Hopps to see an expression of surprise, pleasure, and a little bewilderment on her face.
“Illusions, of course,” she clarified, waving an idle paw towards the dome around them. “The Apex dome is not simple glass. It’s a weave of holographic emitters, not unlike Jack’s suit. Unlike his suit, however, when the object is stationary any number of illusions can be brought to life. Generally, the projection is just what you would see outside as if you were truly looking through glass, but when there is a drastic need for a change in scenery I can look out over the city however I want.”
“Is that how you see Zootopia?” Hopps asked, violet eyes returning to her with a very slight incline in her head. “Something where you can project to illusion of peace and stability, no matter what’s really happening right under your muzzle?”
“All cities do that, Miss Hopps,” she said, her tone kept pleasant easily because she was feeling more in her own element again. “Every government for every city on the planet puts forth an illusion of perfect beauty and serenity. It attracts those who want to come and take part in it, brings tourists, allows most of the population to live in peace with the knowledge that they are a part of such a great and culturally advanced society. And in most cases, these governments don’t do it because they want to fool anyone: they do it because that is what they really want their city to be. It gives them and the mammals that live under their umbrella something to strive for.”
“While at the same time keeping them blind to the rot at the heart of it all,” Nick said, drawing her narrowed gaze for a moment before she relaxed back into her chair.
“Not to argue against you, because a lot of what you said is partly true, Madam Administrator,” Hopps said, even her professional courtroom tone, which she used very well, far less neutral than the words of the Todd had been, “but Nick is right. Glossing over the truth with an illusion of perfection never helps anything. I consider the Otterton trial to be a prime example of what happens when someone interrupts the illusion, forcing hands to move to keep the illusion in place.
“And I don’t believe you had anything to do with that,” she said quickly with one paw raised when Neveen narrowed her eyes, “but when the illusion benefits certain groups that are cloaked within it, they will act to protect it with or without your consent. Such as sending alleged assassins after a lawyer who is working to undo a wrong perpetuated by the system.”
“A lawyer who I invited into Zootopia,” the vixen replied with a benign smile curving her lips as she leaned back in the seat and idly tapped her paws on the arm of her chair. “What you’re talking about is governments trying to keep control by offering ideas and doing nothing to make those ideas come to pass as long as it secures their office. That is when the promises of a great city like Zootopia become an illusion and it is not what I am doing. I am trying to change the city for the better, trying to bring what Zootopia could be to reality.”
She paused for a moment, taking some small pleasure in the fact that Hopps seemed to be considering her words, and far less pleasure in the way Nick was watching her. Watching her if he didn’t believe her. Watching her like she was the enemy. She had to resist the urge to look away from them, kept her ears upright as she focused her attention on the bunny instead.
“As people who know the truth, you have to ask yourself,” she continued as she looked over and gestured to the sunny day over Zootopia that they all knew was a trick of light and technology, “would you rather bask in the sun while working at clear the shadows, or would you rather struggle to stay dry in the storm while the shadows surround you?”
Hopps frowned slightly, looking unconvinced but thoughtful as their eyes met. It was going to have to do for now. If the Otterton case could be proven and at least that piece of the puzzle was laid bare, then maybe the idealistic little bunny would come to realize that Zootopia would heal under the careful attention of an Administrator. Something that Neveen knew she needed to happen if her plans for the city were to move forward as she planned. The idea of needed to rework her plans at the whims of a Common Wealth lawyer did not sit well with her, but it would have to do.
With that she had learned from the reporter, however, it seemed that everything was indeed going as planned if not by the same course she had intended.
“I suppose with that said, we both have our parts to play,” she said, her tone cheerful as she rose from her seat and moved towards the two of them with a sway of both her tail and her hips. “I have shadows to chase and you, Miss Hopps, have a case to win in the morning.”
“Yes, you’re right of course,” Hopps said as they both rose, though it was Hopps who looked up at her and extended a paw. A small smile played over Neveen’s muzzle as she reached out to take it, russet paws closed over the much smaller one in a courteous if cool shake on both their parts. “I am glad to have had this chance to meet you and thank for the token gesture of choosing me to represent Otterton.”
“As I should thank you for accepting it,” she replied, aware and amused by her insistence that it was a token gesture. She was certain that Hopps didn’t believe that any more than she did, as a token would not be expected to create change. And while they both had different ideas of what that change might be, that didn’t make it any less amusing.
“You should call Big,” Nick said a moment later as she was walking them towards the elevator, aware that Jack was following her even with his lack of input or sound in general.
A quick sliver of annoyance rippled through her particularly because of the curious, suspicious interest that the bunny directed at him when he dropped the name. She didn’t allow it to reach the surface however, pausing with the key in her paw as they reached the elevator.
“I’m not sure that would be the best idea right now, Nicholas,” she said, keeping her expression carefully neutral when she turned to face him. “There is nothing to say that hasn’t been said already and nothing that can be said that would change anything.”
“All right,” he said, surprising her with the softer unhappy notes in his voice. And more when he stepped closer to her, raising one paw to rest it on her shoulder while green eyes gazed into hers for a long moment before he drew her into a warm hug. “I’ll let him know that you’re as stubborn as ever.”
It brought a little smile to her muzzle even as it caused a little crack in Neveen’s heart, but she returned the hug with her muzzle pressed into his shoulder for a few seconds. The familiar scent of him tempted her to linger, to hold onto this sliver of her life from before, to ask him to stay at her side even. But the moment the embrace was broken, all of those things evaporated as quickly as the warmth in his eyes. She turned to insert the key into the elevator lock, watching the doors as they opened before she turned to face them.
“Good luck with your case, Miss Hopps,” the Administrator said, her gaze following them as they stepped into the elevator while she held the door open for a moment longer before turning the key again to let them close. “And do be careful of the wolves.”
**********
Not a word was said between them during the ride down the elevator, and the silence was not comfortable. The tension in the air was so thick that her nose twitched as she stared at the reflective surface of the doors. A quick look at Nick in that reflection showed her a male that looked troubled and unhappy, even if he was trying his best to put on his normally stoic mask.
The Administrator… No, the vixen had gotten to him.
Judy had seen many sides of him since he had taken up the mantle of protecting her, even if the calm was the face he normally wore. He could be warm, serious, sarcastic, determined, supportive, passionate, funny and cold as ice. But those faces, the ones that he kept hidden, were almost always for her. Today, she had seen new emotions: sadness and hopeful.
And wasn’t it strange and narrow of her, that seeing these emotions brought out in him by someone else made her feel jealous?
It was far from the only thing that troubled her, however. Everything about the short conversation had bothered her, even if it had been enlightening. There was some degree of relief in the knowledge that the Administrator did seem to be on the side of the law in the Otterton case. Her reasoning for not interfering made perfect sense, on one level. But it still came across as cold to allow an innocent mammal to sit in prison when the belief in his innocent and the power to release him was there, whatever the reaction of the public might have been.
She remained silent as they walked to the car, running the entire conversation through her mind again.
All in all, she had no idea what to make of the Administrator. It was easy enough on the surface to say that the vixen had the best interests of the city in mind, but her beliefs simply didn’t align with Judy’s. But working in law, Judy was often faced with aspects of law that did not suit her well. Criminals were often released on technicalities, unfair sentencing was common, biased juries that were perfectly within their rights to be biased as long as they didn’t say they were biased out loud. The world was not a perfect place, so it was hard to hold a candle to someone stepping outside of the realm of common decency in an attempt to make it better. Or at least her idea of better. But what price was there to pay for that sort of improvement? Involvement with a rabbit that Nick believed was one of the most dangerous mammals in the city? The alleged assassination of a high profile military leader?
What lengths had she gone to, herself? Aligning herself with a fox she knew nothing about; one who was capable of killing without signs of regret or that he was impacted by it all. A fox who dropped the name of the well-known mob boss, Mr. Big, to one of the most powerful people in the world without batting an eye or twitching an ear. She had even questioned whether or not he had been Yūrei while still under his care and had simply taken him at his word that he was not. Not because she hadn’t believed him capable of doing what the seemingly mythical figure was famous for, but because she hadn’t wanted to be believe that he would.
But in reality, could she make that assumption with a clear conscience?
When she pulled herself out of these thoughts long enough to realize where she was, the car was coming to a stop in front of her office. The silence was almost overwhelming when the fox beside her shut off the engine. Her paws tightened in her lap as she tried to work up the courage to say when she needed to say, something that might well damage whatever feelings the two of them had started to form for each other. And when he reached for the door handle to exit the car, she finally did speak.
“How do you know the Administrator, Nick?”
“It’s not important.”
The tone was as distant as it was dismissive, and just as the door popped open, she reached out to grab the sleeve of his jacket. When he stopped, she met green eyes with anger reflecting in her own.
“That’s not good enough anymore, Nick,” she said firmly with her ears pinned flat against her head, squeezing her fingers painfully tight around the fabric when he tried to pull his arm away. “There is too much going on around me that I don’t know, and almost all of it revolves around you. This is too dangerous for me not to know anything, when I should know everything.”
His paw fell away from the door handle, his ears dropping to the side as his eyes turned forward, staring blankly out of the windshield of the car for a long moment as she let the words hang between them. But she only let them hang long enough for her to gather her courage and her sanity, before she continued.
“You’re going to tell me everything, Nick, or we’re finished.”
So, Weaver wants to do a Zoosona Portrait Drop Box for Christmas!
How it will work is simple:
Drop your Zoosona description (the more detail the better) like any other drop box. Any pose you might like, outfit, equipment (keep it simply, folks. We're not looking to draw the Terminator.)
Then we will randomly choose some for Weaver to draw! He's on a portrait kick, and we're passing his desire to draw characters on to our Patreon!
Thank all of you for supporting us though our mad projects! Since we have no paywalls, we do like to offer something special to our active Patreons in the form of these monthly drop boxes. This month: give us some Holiday ideas!
Drop your ideas, your wishes, your desires. We got some nice WildeHopps images and a little story to go with one last month, so let's give it another go! Let us know what you want to see drawn or blurbed or both, depending.
Again, the rules are as follows: Do read them, yes.
1) You must be an active, paid Patreon to drop an idea. (We have seen some people who are not active Patreons posting ideas. They will not be taken into consideration.)
2) Zootopia-Centric ideas. Zoosonas allowed but not guaranteed.
3) No non-WildeHopps. Meaning, no Judy/Nick with anyone else, in threesomes, or other such things. Not our thing.
4) If you have a sexy idea, submit the idea in non-graphic language. If that isn't possible, send a message. This is a PG-13 Patreon and we want to keep it that way. Sexy ideas will be posted on DA and Tumblr.
5) The choice of what is picked is up to Weaver and myself. How many are picked is up to us and not every one will be picked. Don't be afraid to drop multiple ideas. Fun/creative ideas are always a plus!
6) When you drop your idea, do not offer it as an art or writing idea. Just an idea. Weaver and I will pick whatever ideas we feel compelled to work on.
7) Not all ideas will be chosen. This is a drop box for us to pick ideas from, not for us to attempt to draw every one. (See Rule #7)
8) Following the above, this isn't a tier based drop box. All Patreons are free to post in comments. Whether the chosen is a sketch, inked, fully colored, written, whatever, it is the ideas we pick.
9) Very important: This WILL NOT distract us from Sunderance or our other projects. This is actually intended to also help keep us motivated, and sometimes it takes a little kick in the ass to get an artist or writer moving on a big project.
This is for our Patreons, to thank everyone who continues to support us. We deeply appreciate it and love you all for sticking around as long as well have and will continue to!
Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
The paw moved slowly, steadily carrying out the smoothing motion from the tip of the dark nose, over the whiskers, and all the way back over the long muzzle. The fine teeth of the comb set every strand of orange fur perfectly in place after the twenty-fifth stroke, allowing the fox turned her attention to the other side until similar results were achieved. Neveen watched the vixen in the mirror groom herself, attended to every detail with astute care that she had not taken since she began her rise to power. Generally, the details of her city took too much of her time and while she certainly tended herself and kept herself more than presentable, it had been too long since she had really taken the time to make every detail perfect.
Then again, it had been a very long time since she had seen Nick, so the extra effort only made sense to her.
“Madam Administrator,” came the expected feminine voice from the room around her, “your appointment has arrived on time. However…”
“Miss Hopps is more than welcome to join us,” she interrupted easily, a light smile on her muzzle as her own eyes glinted in the mirror at her. Not at all unexpected. “The elevator is waiting for them.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
The unusual feeling of disquiet in her stomach was hard to process. It wasn’t nerves – excited, uneasy, distressed or anything of that sort – that caused the feeling when she turned from the mirror and made her way across the large room. She silently processed the feeling as she quietly stepped down the curved stairs leading to the elevator door, listening to the almost silent hum as it made its way from the lobby up towards her office. Reviewing a list of possible ways that she could greet the fox that was on his way up and fully into her world, she found that she couldn’t really decide on a single one as the most effective. It all left her when the elevator stopped, and the mirrored surface of the doors slid open to show the two mammals within. The genuine warmth of affections that filled her was a little stunning, though she didn’t allow that to show as she opened her arms wide to the handsome Todd in black that stepped out.
“Nicholas,” she said with that genuine affection filling her voice as she stepped towards him. He was warm and solid against her when she drew him close, allowing her to realize that some part of her had wondered if he had even been alive after the years slipped away and no word from him had come. His slow reaction, hesitation followed by an almost reluctant reply to her strong hug, showed her that she had caught him off guard. But catching him off guard was only a small part of the pleasure of wrapping her arms around him and feeling the embrace returned. “It has been too long. You look…”
She paused for a moment as she drew back and held him at arm’s length, her gaze sweeping over him up close and personal for the first time in years. He was obviously stronger than he had been, with an edge of danger that was obvious as much from the glint behind emerald green eyes as the fact that she already knew he was capable of killing. He was as handsome as ever, too, but there was also a coolness to it all. Even after the warmth of the hug that had lingered between the two of them for a long moment, she almost imagined a physical distance between them no matter that they were face to face. It wasn’t a blow to her pride or her heart. It was easy enough to tell that the feeling of distance wasn’t directed at her alone: it was directed at the world at large. The silent moment dragged on for a few seconds before she finished her statement with a wistful smile.
“…Serious.”
“It comes with the job,” he replied simply, to which she inclined her head in acceptance of the explanation before she turned her attention towards the other mammal in the room. Nicholas seemed inclined to make the introduction as he stepped slightly to the side and gestured with one paw. “This is Judith Hopps, though I’m sure you know that. Judy, this is Neveen.”
“It’s a pleasure to meet you at last, Judy,” she said informally with one paw extended towards the sharply suited bunny, keeping her ears upright even as she suppressed the mild surprise at the way he had used her real name. “You have caused quite a commotion in Zootopia in a very short time.”
“Through no fault of my own,” the bunny said, reaching up to take the offered paw. Neveen would have called the shake non-combative, but professionally firm and brief.
“Oh, don’t take that as an accusation,” she replied, her smile still in place as she gestured for the two of them to follow her as she mounted the stairs back into the main room. “It’s not your fault that this city has some elements that resist the idea of justice.”
“There are elements in every city that resist the idea of justice,” Hopps replied, her tone as crisp and tidy as the suit she wore. “Though it’s not as common for them to resist as violently as I’ve encountered since I arrived.”
“Yes,” she replied, allowing just a hint of annoyance to creep into her voice, waving them to the two seats that were already waiting for them. Having made her way to her own chair as they took hers, she faced them with the gathering storm above the city outside making the room a dull gray around them. She lowered herself into the seat with an almost regal air about her, though she didn’t see it as such before she continued. “Some less expected than others. But that’s not simply resistance to justice. Do you understand what I mean, Nicholas?”
“I have already given her the moths to the flame speech,” was his only reply as he reclined on the chair, crossing one leg over as his gaze remained fixed on the storm behind her.
“Have you?” she replied, smiling slightly as she took note of the surprised frown that crossed the bunny’s muzzle as her gaze drifted over to the Todd. “Well, the point remains the same. There are always those who will take advantage of unusual circumstances to show their true colors. Someone they believe they don’t like causing trouble in a place they love, for example. Though they never understand that the love for a place, such as Zootopia, only carries so far as that place holds to their own beliefs. Do you think this is why someone in Zootopia is trying to remove you, Miss Hopps?”
“I don’t think that I am as important as everyone is making me out to be,” was her reply, causing the vixen to raise one brow. “It’s not me that someone is after. It is stopping me from getting to the truth. Even the Otterton case isn’t important, but the fact that someone successfully framed him for the murder of his wife even though there was never real evidence to support that.”
“What makes you so certain he isn’t the murderer the courts convicted him of being?”
“What makes you so certain that he is?” was the quick retort, which caused a please smile to spread over her long, slender muzzle as she shook her head.
“Oh, I don’t think he is guilty at all,” she replied, her eyes shifting to Nick again. He still wasn’t even looking at her, which caused a little twinge of both annoyance and sadness. But she pressed on without letting either of them show. “I am absolutely certain that he’s innocent. I know the mammal, after all. There isn’t a killer’s bone anywhere in his body, which is saying something about a predator. And he did love his wife so much. No, I believe he would have chopped off his own paws and feet if he believed they could be used to hurt her.”
“Then why are you allowing this to happen at all?” Judy asked, keeping her tone professional even though the words held obvious demand for an answer. “You could pardon him instead of forcing this very public spectacle from going on.”
“But that wouldn’t really solve anything, now would it?” Her smile was benevolent as, with a simple hand gesture, the first few steps of her complex chair rose soundlessly to form a desk in front of her. She then leaned forward to rest her elbows on that desk, her paws folded as the two of them held eyes steadily. She had expected little else from a bunny willing to enter a city very much controlled by foxes, all while under the protection of a fox that was a mystery to the city at large. “A governmental pardon would be seen as a ploy to gain favor with certain groups. Legally, it absolves guilt and grants freedom from whatever charges are pardoned. But in the eyes of the people, it almost always leaves room for doubt. Mammals at large have always been wary of favors from the government, even if they are in the best interest of the people. It would be far more productive if someone, namely you, were to prove his innocence in a ‘very public spectacle.’”
“To not only prove his innocence beyond a shadow of a doubt but to ensure that you look like the good Samaritan because you set the wheels in motion when you invited me to represent Mr. Otterton,” Hopps said, her tone both thoughtful and certain of her final statement. A statement which she saw no reason to deny as a light laugh escaped her muzzle.
“Yes, that’s it exactly. I am a political figure that was never elected to office, after all,” she said, waving one paw only slightly towards the city all around them. “Not by the mammals of Zootopia, directly. I was elected by the Council, who were themselves elected by the mammals of Zootopia, to oversee the day-to-day administration so that they would be free to peruse the larger issues of their own stations. Thus the title they placed on my station.”
“And set you in an office that sits on the highest point in the city, above the Council itself?”
“It is important to keep perspective, Miss Hopps,” she said thinly before she drew herself to her feet, the desk withdrawn back into the steps at her feet automatically, gesturing for the bunny to follow as she walked towards the outer rim of the precipice so she could look out over the dome. What had been a distant storm had closed in, the sheets of rain that fell as it moved towards the tower causing the city to take on a hazy grey look. Once the bunny had joined her, looking up at her for a moment before following her gaze to look out over the entirety of the western bay and stretching on to the mountain ranges of the Nocturnal District, she continued. “This is the perspective the Council wanted me to have. As Zootopia grows and becomes more complex, the Council found it harder to focus on the tasks they were elected to perform – be it Education, Finance, military, etc – and they started to see the need for someone to look at the big picture.”
It pleased her that Hopps was not quite able to mask her awe at the view she was given, the twitch of that adorable bunny nose twitching as her gaze moved over the splendor of the city being rebuilt by her careful paws. Not a simple vanity of knowing that she had ‘the best seat in the house’, but because she herself was still awed by it at times.
“The big picture, like risking the life of an innocent lawyer for the sake of scoring political points with the populous?”
They both blinked and turned towards the sound of Nick’s voice, who had remained seated without seeming even remotely interested in taking in the spectacular view of the city. Of course, she knew that he would be familiar with the view, even if the Apex itself was a new addition to the top of The Tower. More than that, though, was the returning annoyance when she realized that he wasn’t looking at her. He wasn’t looking at either of them, in fact.
“I know that I am being used as a scapegoat,” Judy said, drawing the gaze of both foxes with the matter of fact tone of her voice. Neveen looked down at her, a slight tilt in her head when lavender eyes rose to meet gold. “I was fully prepared to come into the city alone, expecting that some mammals might try to kill me just because I am a bunny. Because a bunny wouldn’t be welcome. It seems like a long time ago that I was that naïve, even though I’ve hardly been here a week.”
“Bunnies have never been as reviled in Zootopia as the Commonwealth would have its population believe,” the vixen confirmed, a grim expression on her muzzle as they both returned their gazes to the city. “Most of the population is in favor of lifting the ban, but the Council still hesitates because of pressure from outside of our borders. There are no ravenous hoards of foxes marching the streets in search of lost bunnies on the outskirts, after all.”
The anecdote was obviously well known if the drop in Hopps’ ears was any indication, though she recovered from it quickly enough when she turned away from the view to face her directly. A favor that she returned with her paws clasp together nearly in front of her.
“But there are people who want me dead. And whoever they might be, they seem to want my execution to be public at the very least,” she added, causing the vixen to raise an eyebrow before giving a short nod. “And because you stepped over the current laws to let me represent Otterton, someone – perhaps multiple someone’s – could take advantage of my death to point the blame on you.”
“Which would, very effectively, ensure that all trust in me as Administrator would evaporate,” Neveen finished with a slight smile, more pleased now than ever with her choice in Hopps. “And would also destabilize the public trust in the Council, because they are the ones who put me where I am today.”
“But you already knew that,” Nick chimed in, drawing her gaze again, and her frown when she saw that he was still looking off into the distance at some random point on the skyline rather than at her. “That is why you had someone ready to swoop in and save the day when the first attack came.”
“Nicolas,” she said shortly, folding her arms over her chest as unavoidable annoyance caused her ears to tilt down halfway. “If you’re going to accuse me, you could at the very least do me the courtesy of acknowledging that I still exist. I know we haven’t spoken in years, but it’s childish of you to avoid looking at me…”
“He’s looking at me.”
As soft as the voice was, it still caused the fur on the back of her neck to stand on end when both she and Judy turned towards the sound. What looked like any other small part of Zootopia’s massive skyline around then, blended between the mountain ranges and dark storm clouds in the distance, a shimmer of air and light bent to the familiar lean shape and tall, high-set ears. Out of his standard gear, the tall black-striped rabbit wore only black training pants and the simple vest that housed his newly replaced holo-emitter on his chest. A vest that barely managed to cover the bandages that she knew still bound his ribs. This was enough to have her setting her teeth, though it was not enough to distract her from the face that Hopps was moving towards Nick, who had risen from his seat.
“Jack,” she said calmly, forcing her face and ears to calm when he walked over to stand beside her, just as Hopps moved to stand beside Nicholas. Setting aside the surprise of not only his appearance but the fact that Nicholas had been aware of his presence when she had not, she slipped on an easy smile. “I told you that everything would be fine without you. Nicholas would never hurt me. Would you?”
There was a long moment of tense silence as the four of them stood and watched each other, a not-so-subtle tension in the air built of curiosity, mistrust, and a desire by all parties to know more than what they already did. She could see that Jack was unarmed, as if he needed his blades to be dangerous, and while she had taken no steps to disarm the Todd across from her, Neveen also felt that she knew he would not hurt her. The moment passed when a slash of lightning split the sky around them, and while the Apex dome kept the thunder that followed from being heard, the slow exhalation from one male in the room seemed an apt replacement for it.
“You know I would never hurt you, Neveen,” Nick said, his eyes leaving the buck beside her long enough to meet her gaze.
The gaze locked and held for a long moment, during which Neveen felt a small pang of longing for the way things had been. But when his gaze dropped from hers to the bunny beside him as one russet paw placed on her shoulder, she reminded herself that those days were far gone and impossible to find again.
Last month provided some great ideas and images, so here we go again!
Drop your ideas, your wishes, your desires. We got some nice WildeHopps images and a little story to go with one last month, so let's give it another go! Let us know what you want to see drawn or blurbed or both, depending.
Again, the rules are as follows: Do read them, yes.
1) You must be an active, paid Patreon to drop an idea. (We have seen some people who are not active Patreons posting ideas. They will not be taken into consideration.)
2) Zootopia-Centric ideas. Zoosonas allowed but not guaranteed.
3) No non-WildeHopps. Meaning, no Judy/Nick with anyone else, in threesomes, or other such things. Not our thing.
4) If you have a sexy idea, submit the idea in non-graphic language. If that isn't possible, send a message. This is a PG-13 Patreon and we want to keep it that way. Sexy ideas will be posted on DA and Tumblr.
5) The choice of what is picked is up to Weaver and myself. How many are picked is up to us and not every one will be picked. Don't be afraid to drop multiple ideas. Fun/creative ideas are always a plus!
6) When you drop your idea, do not offer it as an art or writing idea. Just an idea. Weaver and I will pick whatever ideas we feel compelled to work on.
7) Not all ideas will be chosen. This is a drop box for us to pick ideas from, not for us to attempt to draw every one. (See Rule #7)
8) Following the above, this isn't a tier based drop box. All Patreons are free to post in comments. Whether the chosen is a sketch, inked, fully colored, written, whatever, it is the ideas we pick.
9) Very important: This WILL NOT distract us from Sunderance or our other projects. This is actually intended to also help keep us motivated, and sometimes it takes a little kick in the ass to get an artist or writer moving on a big project.
This is for our Patreons, to thank everyone who continues to support us. We deeply appreciate it and love you all for sticking around as long as well have and will continue to!
Now enough reading! Give us your ideas! Annnnnnd go!
The upbeat tune did little more than drift through the dimly lit room, even drowning out the sound of rustling papers and almost managing to drown out the creak of the under oiled office chair as the figure sitting in it rocked back. Whistling was a good way to keep the stress down, he had found. That was the theory, anyway. At the very least, it required a bit of focus that otherwise might have been spent grinding teeth or chewing on nails or some other habit that would best be avoided. As a male who had never wanted to be in the position he had settled into, bad habits were an easy thing to come by, a fact that his wife often pointed out when she caught him falling into them.
Even with the whistling, it was hard not to fall into them as he looked over the folder in his lap. The melodic notes were a contrast to what he saw as rusty paws flipped from one photo to the next, each one showing a different wolf in various parts of the city. To his eyes, none of them looked particularly impressive or suspicious but he had learned not to trust his own eyes a long time ago. He allowed the whistling to drift off mid-tune as he raised his eyes to the robust bear leaning back in the chair across his desk.
“Are you sure about this?” he asked, folding the file closed and dropping it onto the desk with a slap of heavy paper on wood.
“I know you’re gettin’ old, but your eyes are still better than mine,” came the chuckled reply, one large paw waved towards the folder in an offhand manner as if that verified everything. “The first wandered into town a few days ago, the other four not long after that. One after the other, always a different route, a different look, a different backstory. If we hadn’t been expecting them to show, we would have missed them. I just wonder if anyone else knows they’re in town.”
“I’m sure she knows allll about them,” he drawled, adding a cheerful lilt to his voice as he drew himself out of the chair, taking a moment to shake out his bushy tail before he wandered towards the kitchen. “The real question is, will she warn him?”
“Does it look like he needs warning?”
“Ah, but these are not under-prepared assassins or untrained prisoners,” the fox replied with a grin and a wave of one finger. “The Foxhounds are a step up. Our illustrious Administrator undoubtedly knows how big of a step it is.”
“So, you do think she’ll warn him,” the bear replied, seeming to relax back into his chair with his large paws folded over his wide belly. The relaxed green shirt he wore certainly did nothing to hide how… rotund he was, but that had never slowed him down before in the fox’s memory. He was a brown bear, after all. “I gotta say, that’s a relief. I know we don’t want our pretty little overlord coming down on us because we dropped a hint.”
“Oh, now, where’s your sense of adventure, Johnny?” he chuckled, tossing a beer towards the larger male, which was easily snatched from the air despite the bear’s relaxed position. He was about to say more before the phone on his desk vibrated with a familiar tone, one which brightened his mood considerably as he walked over to put the call onto the speaker. “Hello, Darling!”
“Don’t ‘darling’ me,” came the lovely, feminine voice in a tone that was anything but amused. “You were supposed to be home an hour ago.”
“Ah, I know,” he said, deepening his accent and adding a bit more flair to the words just because he knew she loved it. “I know. But it was unavoidable. There are battles to fight and damsels that need protecting, you know.”
“The only damsel you need to protect is the one who has been waiting for you,” she replied tersely, though he grinned because he could hear the affection in it. Somewhere behind the annoyance, anyway. “What was our agreement?”
“That I would call you if I was going to be late,” he replied, winking at the bear as he picked up the phone and switched the speaker off, so he could lower his tone. “I wasn’t planning on it, my love. I will be leaving in a few minutes and when I get home, you can have your way with me. It’s the least I can do to make it up to you.”
The snort of laughter that escaped the vixen on the other end of the line made his grin widen and his tail sway from side to side as her reply came through loud and clear.
“Well, in that case, I’ll leave right now,” he said, his muzzle breaking into a wide smile when John rolled his eyes. “Marian, my darling, I love you more than life itself. I’ll see you soon.”
“Are you sure you’ve been married for twenty years?” Despite the words, they were spoken with an affectionate chuckle as the bear lumbered to his feet, setting the unopened beer on the desk.
“Love knows no age, my friend,” the fox replied, sliding his fingers over his greying muzzle to smooth his whiskers before he picked up the folder again and frowned down at it. “Or species. I hope he’s as good as he seems to be.”
“Not much we can do either way,” the bear said with a shrug, reaching over to slap his friend on the back with one huge paw. It was only their long friendship and the many slaps he had endured over the years that allowed the fox to easily hold his ground against it as they headed towards the door. “Don’t worry so much, Rob. If he is, he would be a hell of an ally.”
“If he is an ally, which is yet to be determined,” Robin replied, pulling the door closed behind them. “We’ll just have to keep an eye on him and see how much like his father he really is.”
Things progressed in a usually organized manner in Wild Times as the night moved on. Judy was unable to deny that there was a very, for lack of a better term, clean sense of a well-run business even if ‘clean’ was the last thing it made her feel. Male after male came in - with the occasional female just to make her ears burn - and after being scrutinized by the guards and checked off the list, they walked to one of the tables to wait for their night’s companion. After watching for about an hour, it became obvious that there was a numbering system and each male was sent to their designated table. A waitress, a white-tailed doe, in an outfit that covered just enough of her well-stacked body to make it almost pointless, would saunter up to the table, take a drink order with a bright smile, and then make her way over to the bar. No attempts at groping her were made, even if more than one of them focused their gaze on her rear as she sauntered away. Even with her limited experience in strip clubs, with their universal no touching rules, she knew that there was a deep sense of ‘only touch when allowed’. So much so that, unlike those strip clubs where males were often ejected for breaking the rules in their excitement, not one male tried to overstep their bounds.
Those bounds didn’t seem to change when their ‘companion’ for the evening arrived, most of whom were wearing more than the waitress when they settled into the large booths. The greeting was almost universally warm, but again, she was surprised by the complete lack of unwanted touching. Not that there wasn’t touching. But on table after table, she noticed the obvious very quickly: the clients never touched until the female touched them first. After that, the proverbial gloves were off, which was usually followed by a lot of kissing, nuzzling, and the groping that she had expected. After that, at which point it seemed the pairing was complete, they were free to leave their booth, dance, drink, or retire to one of the many rooms that lined the walls for obvious carnal activities.
The lust was expected, but it surprised her that the lack of romance in the repeating mating dance was not as important to her as the fact that there seemed to be a level of respect and order. She also had no doubt that the house rules here were absolute and literally no one seemed willing to risk breaking those rules. The small male, who had taken his throne atop the bar by resting back against the lioness’s chest as she played with his ears, was clearly the center of it. Even as he talked, laughing and voraciously flirting with the much larger female, she could see that his eyes were everywhere at once, watching every interaction. She had already seen how he had reacted when the male had come up to her unbidden and had assumed that he had done that because of Nick’s threat, but the longer she watched, the more it became apparent that the same was expected from all males. This was not what she had expected. The females were clearly more important to him than pleasing the clients, which was the opposite of the ‘pimp and whore’ relationship she had encountered in her relatively short number of years in law.
She had been so wrapped up in watching it that she almost managed to forget that she still desperately wanted Nick to come back. Her Q&A with Finnick had only left her with more questions, a more pressing need for answers, and knowledge of the fact that it was her fault as much as Nick’s. Or at least, it was partly her fault. It was something she needed to think about, but in the meantime, her eyes returned to the door again. Something about the way the reporter had asked for him directly and had only been interested in meeting with him rubbed her fur in all the wrong directions. Attractive vixen, wanting to meet a fox who was all the rage in the media? Why wouldn’t she have wanted to meet the two of them together? She would have had a real interview and not some meeting in a secret location where she could sink her claws into her…
“Hey Law Buns, you lost over there? You look ready to bite clean through a nail.”
The deep voice shook her out of what had started to become a really good mad, causing her ears to drop for a moment as she glanced down at the glass of club soda she held between two paws. A glass that she had to relax her crushing grip on before she turned her attention to the small fox.
“I’m fine,” she said, not bothering to raise her voice over the music. The assurance had been mostly for herself, anyway. Then she did raise her voice so they could hear her clearly, “I’m just worried about Nick.”
“You might be the only mammal who knows him who’d say that,” he said, causing the lioness to snicker softly. When his eyes focused on her, she felt her ears heating as his gaze lingered. And the longer it lingered, the bigger the grin on his muzzle grew. “Still worried that he’s out getting some vixen tail, aren’t you? Maybe a little ‘tied’ up with her? Being a ‘knotty’ bodyguard?”
His first insulation had annoyed her, then the seemingly random series of statements that followed confused her out of the sudden flash of anger. When she stared at him blankly for a long moment in silence, his head tilted to the side. Certain that she was missing the joke entirely, she averted her gaze when Zira leaned over to mutter in one large ear.
“Wait, you think..?” he said, the surprise in his voice causing her to her raise her head again to frown at the two of them again.
“It makes sense,” the lioness purred, her tone more than a little delighted at what seemed to be a private joke between them. “Let’s find out! Judy, how much do you know about fox anatomy?”
“Anatomy?” she said, her ears perking as her curiosity was peaked. Searching her memory, she gave a little shrug without taking her eyes off the two of them. “The same as most, I assume. High school, basic Mammal Anatomy and only a little more in-depth when reviewing the Gideon Grey case. A part of the case was proving that a fox’s claws weren’t sharp enough to do what was done to the victim.”
“Huh. So,” Finnick said, his tone giving her the distinct impression that he was trying not to laugh. It annoyed her to no end. “Never had a look below the belt, have you?”
“I-I… I hah… I told you, Nick and I haven’t done anything like that!”
They both stared at her with an expression that she could only have called delighted shock, maybe even a little pity – which annoyed her even more than his devil-may-care attitude about sex – before the booming sound of his laughter stopped her attempt to give an answer to the question. When he pressed a paw to the grinning Zira’s stomach to push himself to his feet, her eyes narrowed on him.
“Someone get me a blackboard and some chalk!” he said, loud enough that she wasn’t sure if he was joking or if someone was going to actually bring him what he asked for. “I think it’s time for this bunny to learn something!”
“Finnick, you can stop now,” the calm voice said, causing the laughter to stop as quickly as it had begun.
All three sets of eyes turned to the source of the voice, causing Judy’s embarrassment to fade into relief to see Nick standing there. The fact that his sunglasses were off and sharp green eyes were focused on her caused her heart to slam into her chest with all the subtlety of a runaway train. Combined with the quick and uncontrollable jolt of base attraction, it caused her completely dropped ears to heat for an entirely different reason when he moved over to the bar.
“He returns,” Finnick said, the grin on his muzzle showing his complete lack of redemptive shame at being caught teasing her. “How was the date? Did you get to the meat of the story or was she left with an empty stew pot?”
“Funny,” Nick replied, his tone clipped in a way that told her he was tense in more ways than one. Her quickly beating heart took a dive when the idea that he had failed to get the receipt was first to enter her mind. When she was about to question him on it, the words died before reaching her muzzle when he held a paw up to her. “Come on, Carrots. Fin, I need your downstairs office.”
“Do you?” the smaller fox said, his tone obviously curious as his gaze flicked between the two of them. “Feel free, fox.”
“Nick?” she asked, allowing her paw to settle into his larger one as she scooted herself to sit on the edge of the bar. Ready to jump down, she was surprised when his free paw reached up to grip her hip, gently helping her down. “What’s going on? Did something happen?”
“In a minute,” he muttered, nodding towards Finnick before resting his paw on her shoulder as he led her towards the same office she had been using to review her files.
Uneasy, she glanced behind her when they stepped past the door, finding that both the small fox and the lioness were watching them. Their expressions were bemused, curious, and eager before he swung the door closed behind them.
“Nick, what is going on? Did you get the receipt or not?” she asked in the silence made almost deafening now that the music was blocked off, looking up at him in the dim light. Maybe it was the dim light and the silence, or a combination of both, but her twitching nose became very aware of something else as he stood close to her. A scent: obviously fox, obviously feminine, and obviously all over him. A little pang of pain mingled with anger when she took a step away from him. “Oh.”
“It’s not what you think,” he said, his voice calm as he stood by the door with his paws in his pockets.
“Well, it certainly smells like what I think,” she said, trying to keep her voice steady when she was feeling anything but. She could feel his eyes on her when she moved towards the computer to retrieve the portable drive while she also tried to shut down the jealousy that gnawed at her gut. “I don’t care. It’s not like we’re actually going anywhere with this fantasy between us, so you can do whatever you want. Did you get the damned receipt or not?”
She slammed the laptop closed a little harder than she should have before she turned to get her answer, yelping slightly when the turn had the tip of her nose pressed right into his chest. She wasn’t even given time to glare up at him before she found herself lifted from the ground by a pair of strong paws on her hips, hips that were used to nudge the laptop back against the wall with a bang when he nudged his hips between her legs and loomed over her. Too stunned to stop him for a moment, wide eyes lifted to him and snapped closed in the same second when he lowered his muzzle, hot breath tickling the base of her ear. Her paws pressed into his chest, ready to shove him away, only to have her fingers curl into his shirt when that breath became a high-toned growl that sent vibrations rolling through her. Those vibrations came with a ripple of sensation that set every nerve in her sensitive ears alight, causing her breath to escape her in a throaty groan that was half protest and half pleasure.
“Nothing happening,” he said, his voice carrying that same growl as she felt the tip of his nose tracing the tip of her ear in a way that had a shiver wracking her body. “She wanted it to happen, she pressed, and I dropped her on her tail.”
“It doesn’t matter if you did,” she said weakly, wishing she could take the words back the moment they left her lips because of how obviously false they were. “I mean, it does, but…”
“It does matter,” was his reply, her eyes widening as the paws that still gripped her hips slipped around until he was fully cupping her rear. “Hm. I’ve wanted to get my paws on this since you walked around in those panties.”
“Nick!” she cried in a tone full of shock, embarrassment, and pleasure ending in a squeaked whimper when his fingers dug in for a long squeeze on toned cheeks through her pants. That had her head falling back as surprising pleasure ran through her, up and down her spine in quick, hot bolts, until a little shover rolled through her entire body. Now kept upright only by the fact that her fingers had a death grip on his shirt, she was helpless to stop him when his paws slid around her butt for a moment for a good feel before moving up over her hips and waist. “Have you lost your mind?”
“No,” he said, taking advantage of her exposed state to lean close. She felt his breath again, this time at her throat before a sharp nip from his sharp front teeth had her heart jumping and her skin heating. “Just call it scent replacement. I didn’t want her, so I am replacing her scent with the one I do want.”
“Oh,” was her only reply, jealousy evaporating as his words sank in along with his own scent. And it was obviously working. The scent of the vixen, which had seemed so important a moment before, was now being rubbed out and replaced with his, at least in her nose. It was deep, potent and predatory in every quick breath she took, reminding her instincts that he was both male and fox.
Surrendering herself, letting his nose root through her fur until it touched the skin, her grip on his shirt only tightened further when his paws moved up to slide across the front of her jacket, inside, and up until his claws traced the line of her collar. On reflex, riding on sensation, she wrapped her legs around his hips and dragging him forward without thinking until she felt a nudge that made her freeze. Freeze and nearly burst into flame when the skin under her fur went red hot, driven by a flash of arousal that had panic filling her. The fox overwhelming her seemed to sense this as his paws grew still and his hips drew back, his head lifting to look down at her with a slightly sheepish grin.
“Sorry,” he murmured, adjusting his stance and placing his paws on the desktop as he started to draw himself back. He paused because she made him pause when a flash of self-awareness had her legs tightened around his hips to pull him back until he was nestled between her thighs again. He growled, his claws scraping the tabletop as he buried his muzzle into her shoulder. “That’s not helping my self-control, Carrots. You’re a lot more potent than whiskey.”
“That might be the sweetest thing anyone’s said to me,” she murmured with a cheeky grin, taking a brazen moment to feel him against her before she relaxed the grip of her legs to allow him to draw away. The act of drawing him back had surprised even her, but the quick decision had come as she reminded herself that a bunny brave enough to enter Zootopia and face numerous assassination attempts should be brave enough not to run from her own desires. Or the male who was the at the center of them. She sat up, staying seated on the edge of the desk to catch her shortened breath as she looked at him. “Scent replacement, huh?”
“It’s a thing,” he said, reaching up to adjust his tie and smooth his wrinkled shirt as much as possible without taking his eyes off her. “Foxes have sensitive noses.”
“Mmph,” she said, trying to keep the grin off her muzzle as she followed his example and smoothed her own jacket while doing her best not to let her eyes drift down to what she had felt nudge her. And did her best not to dwell on the shock of sensation it had caused. “You never answered me, though. Did you get the receipt?”
“Your inner pocket,” he said, motioning distractedly towards her jacket.
Even as she glanced down, she caught a movement out of the corner of her eyes as he made a swift adjustment to his pants, a motion he obviously tried to hide from her. Her fascination with that was dulled, however, when she reached into her inner pocket and found the wrinkled piece of thin paper inside of a small evidence bag. An excitement of an entirely different sort filled her as she smoothed it out with her thumbs to read the date and time, both which matched the date and time she had expected. Then realizing that he had managed to slip it into her jacket while he had very effectively distracted her, she understood why he had decided to pass it to her this way. Narrowed eyes focused on him as her ears rose until they were fully upright.
“Sly fox.”
“I do my best,” he replied, his eyes sparkling in the dim light of the office as he tugged on the lapels of his jacket to finish his job of making himself look presentable. “We should head back to the office. We have a meeting tomorrow and it’s already late.”
“If we can make it past your friend out there,” she said, releasing a slow sigh as her body started to calm, something that she sped up by tucking the receipt back into her pocket and rubbing her paws over her face slowly. “They probably think we’re already halfway naked. As if we would go that far in the office of a brothel.”
“Would we have gone further somewhere else?” he questioned glibly as she turned to the desk to retrieve the drive. She flashed him a bright, dismissive smile as she walked past him and opened the door to take them back into the noise and lights of Wild Times.
______________________________
“I don’t care if she’s one of your girls or not!” was the first thing Judy heard as she stepped out of the office. “You are supposed to inform me any time someone other than a male is put into your care. And this seems to count as ‘put into your care’ if you ask me.”
The squeaking tone was especially clear because of the silence in the club, which was almost completely empty of customers and the females those customers had come to see. Curious eyes turned to the bar, where Finnick sat with his legs dangling from the edge, facing a tiny white field mouse in a dark suit that made even the diminutive fox look large by comparison. Most noticeable about this mouse, aside from the fact that she was riding on a large forward leaning Segway that still didn’t put her quite up to the level of the bar, was that she was pointing one finger at the owner of Wild Times and speaking in demanding tones. And Finnick just sat there with a mildly annoyed expression while she did it.
“She’s only been here a few hours,” he said, keeping his tone calm even as he turned his eyes to them as Nick stepped out of the office behind her. She could see the glint in his eyes, amused interest replacing his annoyance instantly. The amusement grew when his gaze shifted between the two of them, then slyly to the mouse who stood with her arms cross as she waited for him to continue. “But why don’t you talk to them yourself? There she is, along with her knight.”
She hardly noticed the little snort that escaped Nick as he walked just a few steps away from the door, dropping into a seat at a nearby table. She was mildly surprised when he settled into what seemed like an extremely relaxed pose, his arm draped over the back of the chair with one leg crossed over the other. The look of general disinterest in his eyes was clear when the motor of the Segway hummed as the mouse maneuvered it around the bar. When she stopped, she was right up in his face without a hint of fear as she pointed a finger at him just as she had with Finnick.
“And you, Nicholas,” she said, her tone almost as matronly as it was accusing, “leaving a lawyer in a place like this. And a doe, at that! What were you thinking?”
“I was thinking that she ordered me to bring her here,” he said, his ears perked high and straight atop his head, something that Judy took as lack of fear and a rejection of the attempt to chastise him. “Would you like me to file a report or whatever it is you put in your files?”
“She ordered you?” It was hard for Judy to miss the surprise in her tone, or the way the mouse’s long tail twitched and twisted behind her as she turned the Segway again and drove towards the curious bunny. “You ordered him to bring you here?”
“I needed something only he could get,” Judy replied, finding herself almost at eye level with the other female. The mouse looked impressed as she looked her up and down for a moment, obviously curious. Judy’s ears perked forward, just as curiously as she continued, “He said this was a safe place. And you are?”
“This little delight is Roxanne Field,” Finnick’s voice said, drawing both of their gazes as he jumped down from the bar with a grunt. “Pain in my ass for short. She’s the one I hired to see to the legal representation of the girls.”
“Your employees hired me,” the apparent lawyer corrected, her eyes glinting as she glanced down at him.
“I pay you out of my own expense account rather than their cut of the profits,” he corrected, waving one paw dismissively as he walked past them to the door of the office. Judy narrowed her eyes as he paused inside the door, his muzzle raised and twitching for a few seconds before he released a deep sigh. “You disappoint me, Nick.”
“I’ll try to contain my sorrow,” Nick said with the bunny turning her gaze to him as he grinned at her. Though her ears heated, she managed to keep them from falling as she returned the grin.
“I guess I would be more disappointed if you’d actually done anything that fast,” the smaller fox said as he closed the door to the office, his muzzle curved into a toothy grin of his own.
“And on that note, I think it is time for us to leave,” Nick said, drawing himself to his feet as all eyes in the room turned to him as he adjusted his jacket. “We have an appointment tomorrow.”
“But I wasn’t finished talking to Miss Hopps,” Roxanne said, turning on her little platform atop the Segway to face Nick. “I find it very interesting that you’re taking orders from anyone.”
“Why is that?” Judy asked, even as the large auburn paw settled on her shoulder and started to guide her towards the exit. She didn’t resist him, because a large part of her was still anxious to leave the club and the constant aura of sex that lingered in the air. But she was also curious about the mouse, and what she had said. She lowered her voice as they walked. “The workers here have a lawyer?”
“Like I said, everything here is perfectly legal,” Finnick replied before Nick could, wandering back towards the bar as the mouse apparently lost interest in them now that she realized her questions wouldn’t be answered right then. Judy’s eyes followed the Segway as it sped towards one of the few pairs that had remained outside, a male and female cheetah. From there, the mousey lawyer started to chat with the two of them animatedly, her paws waving here and there. “I bet you were wondering why everything runs so smoothly here? Well, it is a combination of physical intimidation and the knowledge that any customer who manages to injure or harass them will be sued blind by our own not-so-friendly neighborhood lawyer.”
“I keep forgetting his ears,” she muttered under her breath, sighing as they reached the door to the sound of Finnick’s chuckle.
“How could you forget them?” Nick asked, one brow raised as he looked back to see the sand colored male grinning again. “They’re seventy-five percent of his overall mass. Stay out of trouble, Finnick.”
“Me?” came the reply with a somewhat playfully derisive snort as Nick glanced around outside before leading her out into the night. “I’ll remember that next time I see you and your bunny in the news.”
