As you can tell, I'm wildly (pun intended) excited for the new Disney film Zootopia to hit films in March (only a few days after my birthday too! I know what I'm doing! 21 years old, pathetically sitting in the back of a movie theater! Happy Birthday to me, m'right!) and was almost too excited to stop myself from writing fanfiction about it. Most of this is guesswork. And I don't want to just make up a plot because, honestly, where is the time? So for now, take post movie (and perhaps, later, pre) drabbles and one shots featuring our two main characters.

For those who don't know, the film "stars" a Rabbit named Judy Hopps who trained (and passed) to be a cop. Her part in the movie is trying to overcome the token role she's been placed in in order to prove her worth on the force.

Our other lead is a Fox named Nick Wilde. He's pretty much what you'd expect. A wily, smooth talking scam artist with a penchant for tricking people out of their money in his hopes of "making it big" in the world of, what he believes to be, thieves and liars.

The two natural enemies team up to fight crime and solve a mystery together.

And if y'all know me (and I suspect that many of you do, at this point) then you know I have a vicious trend of adoring stories about enemies becoming friends.

Don't mess with me, peeps. I fucking live for this shit.

For those who have come here for romance, turn the other way! This story will not contain romance between Nick and Judy. I love some good smoochin', but I have a deep love and appreciation for Best Friend duos and the struggles they go through, especially when the world is against them. So that's all you'll find here.

And, if you did guess it, this story will mainly feature the struggles of two best friends who just happen to be predator and prey as they forge through their every day lives. Dammit, this is so much my aesthetic...

Alright! On with the show!

(APOLOGIES FOR THE RUSHED TONE OF THIS ONESHOT. I WROTE IT IN ABOUT 15 MINUTES AND CAME UP WITH THE IDEA ON A NAPKIN. ENJOY MY INSANITY)

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Everything that's realistic has some sort of ugliness in it. Even a flower is ugly when it wilts, a bird when it seeks its prey, the ocean when it becomes violent.

~Sharon Tate

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Nick Wilde had never had much reason to change his perspective.

In his mind, perspective was the shift of an area around him, and he'd always been good at adapting. One never changed to fit what was around them. One merely moved on when it became inconvenient and found another place to call their own. That was life; simple and clean cut, black and white, easy and neat and clean.

Con or no con, at the end of a day of causing chaos, it was order that he found the most comfort in.

Nick Wilde had never needed to change his perspective.

And his outlook, for the most part, had never changed either. He knew who he was, what he was.

He was Nick Wilde, con artist, Zootopian resident of six years. He was a Fox, a predator, a carnivore and had a fairly decent spot nuzzled into the mid point of the food chain. His favorite color was green, his favorite tie was blue and on his twenty ninth birthday (five years ago) he'd lost his favorite watch in a game of blackjack that could have very well lost him his life instead if they'd seen him counting the cards. He was tall enough, strong enough, cocky enough and smart enough to do what he needed to just get by.

And so that was what he did. He knew who he was and he got by on it.

Nick Wilde had never needed to change his perspective.

And then he'd met Judy Hopps.

It was odd, working with someone who thrived on order and sunk into chaos to find it. To her the world was a grey ball of unknown and in the center of it seemed to be herself. She wasn't sure who she was, what she was or what she would be. Her environment changed constantly, promotions and cases sending her reeling, personality strung on by a leash, following it wherever it went. Her favorite colors changed with the weather, her favorite clothes changed with the job (she'd accidentally fallen asleep in police uniform more than once, and had claimed that it just made it easier to get up in the morning) and was an emotional rollercoaster when emotions were needed.

Her flaws were substantial (self serving and a suck up to a fault) but they balanced themselves out with the need to please and the near infuriating belief that there was good in everyone.

Judy did more than get by. She pursued, she failed, she accepted, she lost and she won. She did far more than she had to and worked on thriving, not just surviving.

She was also a Rabbit. An herbivore. And a natural enemy of all things with pointed teeth.

Especially Foxes.

Truly, it was maddening.

But it was also… something else.

There had been tension, of course. And there always would be. Arguments were common, slammed doors and crossed arms a staple of the strange partnership they'd created. She said things, he'd said more. Snippy comments made about predator and prey, accepting one's place in a crazy world that wanted to stamp you out were what had hurt her the most, and hearing them from him (after, as she'd explained, she'd heard them from the rest of the world) had stung the worst. Not that hearing about the sly, untrusting nature of Foxes had been any better coming from her.

It was around the fourth or fifth argument, storming back to his car, leaving her in her apartment most likely still glaring at the door, that he'd realized what had been so infuriating.

He cared.

Wilde had known too many animals in his life who, food chain, circle of life, kumbaya wise, were lower and higher than he was. They hadn't gotten along because they hadn't meant to get along. And that had been that. He stayed in his place, being wiley and scheming and altogether foxlike and they stayed in theirs, no doubt trying to ensnare him. And for the most part, everyone around him was happy enough to stay in the places he'd marked them with.

He hadn't needed to change his perspective to fit them into it.

And then there was Judy.

Fiercely loyal, awfully stubborn and horribly blind Judy, who seemed to think that she could ignore it all to be whatever she wanted. You can be anything, she'd preached, while he'd thrown it into her face with a backhanded you are what you are. And yet, what she was and what she wanted to be couldn't be separated. And what she wanted to be, apparently, was under his skin.

She'd done all she could to try to change his perspective. Of himself. Of his world. Or maybe, just maybe, she hadn't at all.

Perhaps she'd just been there and he'd hated her for it. She had dreams. He'd given up. Resentment put on a mask and pretended to be arrogance. But she'd been persistent. There had been a case to solve after all, and differences weren't so much as put aside as much as ignored entirely.

And then the case was over and they weren't left a Fox and a Rabbit. They were Judy and Nick. And that was all.

They'd had their downhill moments. On higher pressure days, where law and cons, prey and predator, didn't mix, there had been fights. He could still remember one- a case that had put her in the line of fire of a Bobcat and his 22. She'd nearly been grazed saving one of her fellow cops, and the police at the station had been in an appreciative uproar over her heroism.

Nick hadn't been as easy to please.

"Ya should've just let him get hit," He'd stormed into her small office, slamming the door behind him. "He's a hundred times your weight. If he didn't want to be such a target, he shouldn't have been born a rhino. But if you get hit- What in the hell were you thinking!"

"I was thinking that someone was going to get hurt," she replied, barely looking up from the paperwork she'd been filing, finishing up with the perps identification, loading him into their system. "I was nearby. I'm fast. It's fine."

"Did you ever think in the grand scheme of things that maybe you could've been that person?"

"But I wasn't." She flickered her eyes up, smiling thinly. "Was I."

He wrung his hands through the air, puffing out his cheeks, pulling a million curses back into his throat before they spewed everywhere and made everything worse. "I can't believe you!" he said instead, fingers playing the air. "How can you be so fine about this! You almost got shot!"

Judy slid the papers to the side, brow furrowing. Her ears twitched about nervously, sensing a fight brewing between them. "But I wasn't!"

Maybe it was that she simply didn't get it, or maybe it was more along the lines that he just couldn't say it. That she didn't hear the underlying message practically written out before him.

Don't you understand, you stupid Rabbit? I care about you. You're one of my closest friends. What would happen to me if you left? What would I do without you? What were you thinking putting yourself in danger like that? How could you- why would you- don't you realize how much you mean to me?

It was selfish. Maybe too selfish. But he hardly cared, and his anger burned brighter when she stared at him, waiting for an explanation for it all. As if she'd never understand that he, a Fox, had somehow come to an odd point where he'd claimed an unannounced stamp of protection over a Rabbit. That they, natural enemies, now had each other.

The argument lashed out fast and hit its mark with the precision of a practiced and cruel tongue. He'd told her to stick to her place, stop trying so hard. No one gave two carrots about what a Bunny thought. And if she were to leave, who else would care but him.

She'd told him, for how could she not retort, that it was no wonder he'd said things like that- Foxes weren't to be trusted, after all, and she should have expected less.

Then he'd screamed something, she'd slammed the door and for the next ten minutes both had stewed in their anger, her pacing the floor of her meager office, him pounding his fists against the steering wheel of his car, grinding his teeth, wishing he'd had a bone to chew. Preferably a rabbits.

He'd left for home after that, locking his door and turning on the television to full volume to drown out the awful buzzing in his head. She'd retreated to her own studio, ignoring the worried glances of the other police who had heard the final dregs of a fight and keeping her head down on the train ride. Her neighbors had been too loud, her landlord, a higher-than-thou Lynx who was apparently less than happy about housing a Bunny in his building, had turned off her heat and electricity. And her parents had called. Twice.

He sulked on his couch. She lay on her bed and tried very hard not to cry.

In the end it was Nick who made the first move. He'd picked up his phone for the thousandth time. She was already there, her name screamed in caps on top of a string of texts from the day before. He'd thought that maybe a simple Hello would smooth things over or he'd get lucky and just say something clever and all would be forgiven. But it wouldn't have worked like that.

Not with Judy at least.

With anyone else it might have been different. But he'd never cared before. And this time…

His paw was on the green button before he could stop himself. Sitting on his ratty couch, picking at frayed bits with nervous anticipation, he waited for what seemed like hours, listening to the metal drumming and static of the phone working to connect him. She picked up on the fourth ring. "Nick?" She said his name cautiously, as if expecting the worst. He hated that.

"Judes. Hey…" he'd talked first, rubbing the back of his neck with an open palm, clearing his throat.

There was a sound on the other end, a sniffle maybe, and then- "Hey…" she replied back softly. It almost sounded like she'd been crying, and he flinched, giving his tie an involuntary tug, loosening it from around his neck. It had suddenly gotten hotter. She made another sound on the end, no doubt wiping her sleeve under her eyes, the flannel of her favorite shirt scraping the edge of the speaker.

He was silent another moment, listening to the sirens outside his own window blaring, the streetlights just coming out, flickering odd shadows when they hit the stacks of books and dvds on the table in front of him. "Look… I… I was just calling you because…" His ears folded back, the sharp hairs tickling the back of his neck. "H-how are you?"

"Fine…" she answered. "I'm… I mean- you?"

"Fine!" he parroted back too quickly.

"That's good…"

Silence, long and punishing. He closed his eyes and let out a sigh, guilt pushing its way from his chest. Oh god he'd screwed up. He'd screwed up so bad. Just hearing her voice on the other end was enough to send him reeling. Honestly, sometimes he truly did hate the person he had been, the one that persistently stuck around to wreak havoc time and time again. The one who wriggled out of the darkest places to remind him that he didn't need anyone.

… but he did need someone.

She might have been one of his first and only friends in the world, and if he was going to continue to listen to the whispers in the crevices then he might as well just say goodbye and end it all. It would be convenient to end it all. It would be easiest to end it all. Everything in the universe told him to just end it all because they were never meant to be friends, and it would be better for everyone if he listened for once in his life.

But…

He didn't want to end it all.

The words were tumbling out of both of them, both just as desperate and quick to get the first word in. "I'm-!"

But she was faster. "Yeah…" she cut him off. "Me too…"

There was a laugh on both sides, awkward and short, his ears rising a tad in hopeful endings. "I was just worried," he told her through another forced chortle. "I didn't mean- what I mean is that I didn't-"

"No…" she saved him from the embarrassing confession, her voice already growing stronger. "No, I get it. And I should've been more careful, really."

Wilde shook his head. "You're a cop," he pointed out fairly. "It's your job. And… and your really good at it. Things happen."

She laughed, and this time the sound was real. "I might be a cop, but I'm also Judy. And Judy has friends that she'd like to see every so often. And if I'm careless I might not." He heard her make a sound, she'd shrugged, hummed, smiled. "You're my friend, Wilde. You have a right to be worried."

He felt his face heat up, his mouth tugging into a smile without the permission of its master. They didn't talk about it much. Friendship. It wasn't something that came up in everyday conversations. And with the constant pressure of a world that seemed to hate the very idea of a Rabbit and a Fox being more than just amicable, they'd silently agreed to put the very idea on the backburner and live as they did, side by side. He just hadn't expected that when it was brought into the heat, that hearing it out loud for the first time would be an odd, strange and wonderful admission.

Friends, Nick stewed, breathing out a chuckle. Yeah… yeah, that was what they were, wasn't it?

"Nick?"

Her voice through the other line, crackling through the static that sounded more and more like a broken coffee pot, broke him from his reveries. Ears shooting up, tail fluffing, his trademark grin was back on his face and he lounged back into the sofa. "Yeah," he drawled. "Sorry, Whiskers. Just thinking."

"About…?"

He shook his head. "Nothing." Trying to jump back into normalcy, drag them from whatever patch they'd found themselves stuck in. "How about 9 o'clock tonight? It's Wednesday, anyway."

Wednesday had been dubbed the Ram's night. A small bar run by a few sheep a few streets away from the precinct. It was a popular spot for officers and, despite the overwhelming presence of the Boys in Blue, any other person in the city. Not even perps seemed to be able to avoid it, and quite a few had been caught and cuffed standing in line for just a taste of the places famous dark brew. Judy, never a drinker, had been dragged their one Wednesday night by Nick after he'd promised her he'd buy her a beer (and pay for it with his own hard earned money, thank you very much) and that she'd like it.

She'd fought buck tooth and soft nail, but he'd managed to get her through the front door. They'd sat at a small back table, made shameless jokes at patrons, laughed until their sides hurt and shared an order of the greasiest fried okra ever. And she had liked the beer. So much so that, white foam mustache against her upper lip and oil matting the fur on her fingers, she'd jokingly stated that maybe it could be their tradition to go every Wednesday night to the Ram.

It had been a joke.

Two months later they still found themselves at their table with two beers and a plate of okra.

"Oh gosh!" she flipped through something, a callander maybe (she'd always been more organized than anyone he'd ever met). "It is! I didn't even realize- all the work- Do you think our tables still there?"

"We're the only two who ever save it. It'll be there." He checked the clock. It was only 8:30. They could make it. "I'll pick you up, okay?"

"Yeah! I need to get out anyway. Landlord shut off my heat again."

"He did what!"

"Leave it, Nick. Let me just change. I'll meet you outside."

And that had been that. They had other fights, some less explosive, others more, but in the end they always talked, reconciled, and for it they became stronger.

The obvious was that what they had was different. Weird. Unspeakable. Predator and prey… Then again, she'd become the first Rabbit Police Officer, and they lived in a city with a motto as cheesy as its name. Anything is possible. You can become anything if you dream it. He'd never once dreamt that he'd be friends with a rabbit.

It was entirely an accident. And really, he hadn't even realized it himself until a few months later. They'd just come out of a diner (she'd ordered carrot salad, he'd had a burger and she'd stolen ten of his fries) and had been laughing near maniacally about one thing or another when the large, blue truck had pulled up at a red light. The Zebra inside had done a double take, rolled down its window, shouted outside. A quip about watching who she was with, didn't she have any common sense, how could she go against her kind, prey, to associate with them. Zootopia was an animal paradise, after all, but there was a limit to every Utopia that you had to stop at before you saw the cracks in the foundation.

When she'd deftly hooked her arm with his, giving the other animal a pointed look, there hadn't been anything holding the aggressor back from mumbling, loud enough for her to grasp, "That's why there's so many of you. Because you always make stupid choices." Her ears had lowered, proud grin dropping, and she'd nearly skidded away, instincts of prey never failing her in a situation where hiding was the best option.

Nick hadn't thought twice, though. Grabbing her hand in his own to keep her there, pressing her behind him, he'd turned on his heel. "Better watch it, Zebra," he'd snarled through a smooth smile. "Last I checked this wasn't your business."

"She's prey," the Zebra had snapped. "You're a predator. Its my business to look out for my own."

"Weird. I thought your own were Zebra's. Or maybe it was horses. Either way, you're a total ass."

The car had run the red light in its fury, leaving behind two giggling animals wiping away tears of mirth.

"You didn't have to say that," she'd told him as they'd walked down the street, passing by a flock of birds on break, splashing two and fro in a City provided bath. "He was a jerk. But-"

"But nothin, Judes," and he swung his arm around her shoulders, happy when she didn't pull away, and happier when he realized how fluid and easy touches had become. "He was acting like one, I pointed it out."

She nudged him playfully, her hip just reaching his knee. "My hero," she drawled. He just pulled her in tighter for a side hug.

"You can thank me later with a drink."

"And the truth comes out. I'm just your provider for all things in a bottle."

"You got me. Your job as my friend is revealed-"

He didn't realize he'd spat out the label until it was too late. She'd turned bright red, he'd stuttered on his next words. But it had all been over in an instant when she'd just nudged him again, laughing in mirth, and he'd reciprocated with his own. They hadn't needed much in what they had, but what they had was good. And whenever the word did slip (and it would, rarely, from time to time) they were happy to hear it. But even if they hadn't, they knew.

A fox and a rabbit.

It was odd. It was different.

But it was them.

They were inseparable, even if they both weren't aware of the fact. When other cops talked about Nick they talked about Judy. And when they talked about Judy, they talked about Nick. He was her first choice, she was his first phone call. He knew her parents first names and she knew his past. Things worked out in odd ways and they fell into them and straightened them out with flawed logic that seemed to make sense to them alone.

And Nick, despite every flaw the friendship had, wouldn't have changed it for the world.

"Nick?" His ears swiveled, perked, blinking a few times in the late afternoon sun. Judy stood there in front of him, a bag of donuts in one hand, coffee balanced on a tray in the other. She was panting, out of breath, but her smile was full and wide. "Hey! There you are! I couldn't find you at the precinct-"

"Yeah, sorry, Whiskers. The Chief didn't want me in today." The old Ox and him still had issues after the big case. His defense of the thorn in his side hadn't settled well with the controlling Chief, and the Chief's previous disdain of the Rabbit hadn't been forgotten by Nick. Staying away was his only option, really, if he wanted to keep his head on his shoulders and his big mouth shut. Especially when the bigger animal was in a mood. He was called in when necessary, and the only thing that kept him from being on the hit list of the Leader of her team was the fact that she defended him tooth and nail as her partner.

He was grateful… to a point. There was nothing scarier, or more satisfying, than pissing off Bogo.

But on bad days he'd rather just avoid luck and stay out of his way.

"Oh, okay! I just wanted to make sure to give you these!" She wiggled the bag in her hand. "Clawhauser didn't want them all, and you didn't eat today. Don't argue. I know you didn't."

"Observative, aren't you?"

She pushed it against his chest before he could say anything else, passing him the coffee next. The smell of old sugar and new coffee was a generous combination, and he found himself smiling despite himself.

"Thanks, Judes." Opening the bag, rifling through. There were some things that had to said about having a fellow predator like donuts. For one, as he pulled out a brown circle covered in sprinkles, there was a good chance of having one bacon one stuck in the pile. Meat was meat, even if it was doused in confectioners sugar. He took a bite, his hand charging back into the bag to snag at the orange one he'd seen, passing it to her. "Fer you," he said through a spray of crumbs.

"I'm-"

He swallowed. "You didn't eat either."

"How did you-"

"You get snippy when you're hungry."

She gave him a look that suggested she also got murderous when she got hungry, but took the carrot donut anyway. "Gee, thanks."

"No problem."

They found a bench and sat together in perfect silence, watching the boats go by, listening to the gentle hiss of waves, smelling the backwash of pollution and old seaweed. At one point he put his arm around the wooden back, claws dangling just over his shoulder and she leaned into the elbow.

The world was odd, Nick couldn't help but think. It was all about perspective, really. He'd been so good at controlling his environment, pushing away everyone because that was just what he'd needed. But life really wasn't to be controlled. With or without him it would go on as planned. He was a cog and it was a machine and that was it. All he could control was what happened around him. His own little world had been ignored for so long for something larger that hadn't been there at all.

And he hadn't seen that until Judy when she'd barged into his life with a parking ticket and a stern glare.

"You have your car here, don't you?" She looked over, he followed her gaze to the red convertible parked by the edge of a boat garage.

"Yeah."

"Great." She finished her coffee and he handed her his empty cup. "You're driving me back home."

His keys were in his hand before she could finish her sentence, and he was following her down the docks, strides short and comfortable. "Whatever you say, Whiskers."

She sat on the passenger side and chose the music. He drove over the speed limit and teased her about being a stickler for rules. The newest Gazelle song blaring from the open roof, the sound of laughter ribboning through the notes, they drove into the setting sun through a world of black and white, but all Nick could see anymore was grey.

His outlook was still the same, to an extent.

He was still Nick Wilde, con artist, Zootopian resident of six years. He was still a Fox. His favorite color was still green (though he had a fondness for purple that had suddenly appeared), his favorite tie was blue (though once she'd complimented him on a yellow one that he'd started wearing much more) and he still played blackjack and lost some and won more (always by cheating).

He was still tall enough, still strong enough, still cocky enough and still smart enough.

But now, more that that all, he was Nick Wilde, friend of Judy Hopps. He wasn't just getting by anymore. Not with her. Not for her.

His perspective might have been hard to change. But, taking the third u-turn just to keep her in the car longer, he realized that there wasn't a day that went by that he wasn't happy to at least try.

I have about seven more of these partially written.

I'm gonna have a field day with this movie, I can already tell.

Predator prey friendships? Hurt comfort? Height differences, going against societal norms, the potential of familial love and support?

SIGN ME THE FUCK UP!

Reviews help me write! So click that little button below! And don't forget to write your own! This fandom's already growing and I'd love to see all my lovely readers beginning to add their own amazing contributions!

Next up:

1. Ten things one thing (predator prey addition!)

2. We learn more about this awful landlord. Nick throws a punch and gets beat up (moron).

3. Judy gets shot while on duty.

4. Buried alive (smaller creatures go in first)

5. The Progression of the Cell Phone Screen

Don't know which'll come first or last, but tell me what you'd like to see!