Bliss.

For thirty-two years, the meaning, the feeling, the knowing of the word "bliss" had escaped Nicholas Wilde, conmammal extraordinaire. For thirty-two years, all he had known was strife.

The world had afflicted him with a profound sense of how cruel society could be from a very young age, while simultaneously cursing him with an inclination to do good. To help elderly mammals across the street. To pick up trash on the streets. To return lost or stolen items. He had lived a lie, deluding himself in thinking that he, a fox, could ever do good.

The old ladies thought he was trying to pickpocket them. The cops blamed him for putting that trash there in the first place. The mammals to whom the item belonged thought he was the one who had stolen it.

But still he pushed on, because he had to believe that one day - one day he would be allowed to do good. He had to believe that his disposition to help others would one day be seen as just that, and not some front that he was putting up so he could get close and steal everything you ever owned.

Life didn't take too well to being denied the crushing of a life, it seemed, so if it couldn't get at him and discourage him through his deeds, it would destroy him personally.

Your father, he's...h-he's not coming back this time, Nicky.

You really think that we would let a dangerous pred like you in our troupe?

Get out! Out of my house you ungrateful boy! I didn't raise a hustler! I didn't put in seventy hour work weeks just for you... just for you to become a stereotype!

So he gave up. In order to retain his own sanity, he buried his yearning to help, and cultivated a yearning to cheat. He became what everyone said he was: A liar, a cheat, a fool. For twenty years he lived that life. He had thought he had found the truth of his life, that he had come as close to bliss as he could. He found it in his monetary possessions and in revenge.

Sticking it to the very city that had stuck it to him. Yeah, it felt good at first, but the novelty of the idea quickly faded. He only hustled because he had no other choice. He had already sullied his name; no place of upstanding reputation would ever employ a stereotypical fox. His only other choice was to go deeper into "The Life" and become a real criminal. He had tried, and failed horrendously. That little piece of good in him, the piece that he had long thought was dead and buried would not allow him to stoop so low.

And so there he stayed. For twenty years he was stuck in a purgatory of sorts, sitting in between finding something better for himself and complete damnation. His monetary possessions no longer held any value, and the need for revenge had already ebbed away into nothingness. He was alone, with nothing but his own regret to keep him company.

Then she came.

The sun peaks through the cracks of the closed curtains, shining its warmth upon the occupants of the room. The room was simple, yet beheld so much value to those who now resided there. In the bed that lay in the center of the room, a single flash of green appears as the light gently teases one mammal back to the land of reality, and away from his dreams.

Not that he minds leaving his dreams, oh no. Life, he finds, was so much better.

And it was all made possible by the six sleeping forms that surrounded him. One of said mammals shifts on his left. He slowly moves his head, and trains his one, sleep-addled eye upon the most beautiful creature that had ever graced this earth with her presence... May Goat strike him down before he ever says that one aloud.

Suddenly, green meets purple, as her eye also slowly creeps open. Once she registers what she sees, the eye opens completely, and fills with a happiness and love that can only be found through years of difficulty overcome and reaching the final "Promised Land" of weathering so much strife.

To be looked upon in such a way is a blessing in itself. Nick returns his wife's gaze with an equal passion, a genuine smile - a far cry from the half-smirk that he was known for- touched his muzzle.

He is the first to break the silence. "Mornin', Fluff," he says in a gentle whisper.

A smile of her own comes to Judy's lips. She pivots her head so that she can more easily speak with her husband. "Heya, Nicky," she giggles, though she keeps it low so as not to wake the others.

Nick rolls his eyes. "Nicky, Love?" he asks. "Nicky is what my mother calls me. Six years we've been married and the best you can do is steal a nickname from someone else? Why, I've got almost twenty for you now!"

Before Judy can respond, four collective sighs and signs of life stir on Nicks right side. Four little rabbit kits, circled by his large arm and tail, simultaneously yawn and stretch, pushing into Nick's side. Ash, Freddy, Val, and Liz awake from their own slumber. All five years old and from the same litter.

One thing that Nick never understood, and still terrifies him to this day, is how in the world they are able to coordinate their actions so. They are as independent as can be (They get that from their mother) and yet have spontaneous moments of action in which all four do, speak, and think the same thing. To say that he thought it was freaky would be an understatement. To say that he loved his four daughters any less because of it would be a lie.

"Good Morning, Dad; Good Morning, Mom," they all say in unison.

Nick gives a dramatic shiver. "Sheesh, one of these days you'll have to tell me how you crazies do that."

His only answer is a thankfully, less coordinated giggle from the girls (including his wife), signaling an end to their moment of "oneness" as he calls it. Judy glances over at the clock, it was already nearly 10 in the morning.

"So are we gonna get up some time today, or...?"

Nick looks over to the bunny, spying the time on the digital alarm clock as well. "It's the weekend, Honey Bunny," he says, "I'd like to spend some more close time with my family, anyway. Maybe we can make some Wildecakes for brunch."

Four little hugs grip him in different places along his side accentuated by sleepy little mumblings of "we love you Daddy's" and "best Daddy ever's", and, for a moment, he feels as though he could take on the whole of Zootopia and win. And he would, gladly, for his family.

"You're a great father, y'know?" Judy comments with a broad smile, showing off those lovely buck teeth of hers.

Nick chuckles, and nods his head to the last body in the bed, yet to wake up and clinging to his mother's side. It was a grey fox kit, born of the same litter as his bunny-like sisters. He was definitely a runt, being only as big as his sisters and would probably only ever be a little bit bigger than his Uncle Finnick. Of course, that was as much a blessing as a curse. Were he a normal fox kit, both he and his mother would not have survived through the litter's birth. Then again, the fact that any of them at all were conceived was a miracle in itself.

"And you're an even better mother, Judy," he finally says, using her full name to convey just how much he means it.

Judy simply nods and reaches over, petting each of her daughters and wishing them good morning, before finally resting her paw on Nick's shoulder. "How 'bout we just agree that we're both amazing parents."

"I can live with-"

BuzzBuzz!

Every ear in the room pivots toward to the sound of the noise. Nick, already knowing what, and more importantly who it was, let out an exhausted sounding sigh, and grabbed his phone from the bedside stand to his right. With a tap of his paw, he answers the phone with a decidedly rude and off-putting tone, as if in some vain attempt to get the person to hang up and call back later. He turns the volume up high enough so the others may hear, hoping that it also doesn't wake his son.

Riiiiight...

"Hey Mom."

"Nicky, what have I told you about answering a phone like you've just woken up?"

"Mom, that's because I literally have just woken up..." He says with a shrug and an armed raised and his palm facing toward the ceiling in a universal 'Wtf' gesture.

"Exactly! Always start the conversation with you best foot forward I always say, even if you have just woken up. It shows good character."

"He is quite the character, Viv," Judy quips.

"DAAARLING!" Nick nearly losses his phone in a panicked attempt to lower the volume before his mother's exuberance wakes up his son. "It has been ages! -Errr, last week I think?- since we've seen each other! How've you been, honey?"

"Mom!" Nick scolds in a loud whisper (quite the feat, I tell you). "You're gonna wake Chris!"

That shut her up. Her next words were spoken so quietly and so fast, that Nick could barely understand what she was saying

"Oh no, is my poor baby alright, I didn't scare him did I? Oh Nicholas, you really should have told me that he was there with you, I would have called back later!"

A single, questioning amethyst eye pops open from the fox kit and stares at the phone in Nick's hand. Chris lets go of his mom and turns to the voice he had heard moments ago. "Gramma?" he asks.

"Oh nonononono, I'm sorry baby, did Gramma wake you? Oh, I'm a terrible grandma! Stupid, stupid, stupid-"

A single paw from Nick's right reaches out in a futile attempt to grasp at the phone. "I wanna talk to Gramma!" Ash said with a giggle.

"Oh goodness, I woke Ash, Val, Freddy, and Liz too? I don't deserve to be a grandma..."

Nick sighs, and rubs his temple with his one free hand in an attempt to alleviate the headache that was already forming while holding the phone out of the reach of his daughter. He could actually hear sobbing on the other side of the phone, too. His mom had a bit of a reputation of being a real drama queen. "No Ma, the girls were already awake. Speaking of which," Nick redirects his attention to his daughters, "why don't you girls take your brother downstairs, and you get the ingredients out for the Wildecakes, you can talk to Gramma later."

The quartet of little bunny girls swarm their brother like the cutest bunch of locusts you had ever seen, lift him up, and carry him off the bed and out the door. Chris, obviously used to such a strange phenomenon, didn't struggle one bit.

In the meantime, the mini panic attack that had afflicted his mother was starting to fade away, and her sobbing turns to sniffles. "I'm so sorry, the both of you. I didn't know-"

"Vivian," Judy interrupts, "you couldn't possible have known that we had a late night last night, or that the kids were with us. It's okay. We were gonna hafta' wake up Chris sometime today, so you actually did us a favor."

Nick smiles in satisfaction and pride when the sniffling is completely vanquished, and is replaced with a light chuckle. His silver-tongue abilities must me rubbing off on her... After years of knowing each other.

"Th-thank you Judy-dear." A sigh escapes from the other end of the line, then Vivian takes a deep breath, expelling the rest of her internal strife, and says, "So, Nicky, are you going to bring the kits over for lunch today?"

Nick scowls. Damn, not even ten seconds from recovering from another one of her 'episodes' and she is already trying to take my kits from me. She's as tenacious as ever when it comes to her grandkits. 'Course I've always liked a little spunk from the women I love. He thinks, turning to the gray ball of fluff, whom had scooched closer and nuzzled into his chest after the kits had left.

However...

"-Kshhhhh-... -at, Mom? Y-Kshhh-aking up...-ksshhh-."

"Nicky? Nick? Nicholas Wilde, I WILL see my grandbabies!"

"-orry, Mom -kssssh- talk to yah later." *Beep*

Nick tosses the phone onto the stand with a hum of satisfaction at another successful (maybe) hustle.

Judy tisks from his chest. "She just wants to see the kits, Nick. She only gets to see them once or twice a month now since they've started kindergarten."

"Yeah," Nick agrees. "But they are my kits, and I should be able to spend more than one day with them a week; but now Bogo's got us on overtime with that case about the recent string of robberies that have been going on, and I'm going to spend the rest of this one day off with them, relaxing, come hell or high water. She can either come over here and enjoy family movie day with the rest of us, or she can wait for 'til next week."

"MOM! DAD! Uncle Jack and Aunt Skye at the door!" A shout comes up from the downstairs kitchen

Judy lifts her head and looks at Nick, her face contorted in confusion. "What could they possibly want? Last I heard, they were on a mission somewhere in the East?"

Nick shakes his head. He stands up and snatches a t-shirt from the dresser at the far end of the room. "They came back weeks ago," he finally explains. He and Judy make their way downstairs and to the door. A pair of gray ears were immediately noticeable through the glass window on the top half of the door. "In fact," he continues, "I had to help Jack plan something for a date that he and Skye were going to go on, and that... that was about two days ago."

"And you didn't tell me this... why?" Judy asks, giving him a glare as she reaches to unlock and open the door for the hare.

The moment she pulls the door open, a gray blur slams into her foxy husband. Jack latched onto Nick in an extremely uncharacteristic display of open affection. His face was a visage of pure joy, and his body released his pent up energy on the poor vulpine, now locked in an unrelenting and painful hug of death.

"SHE SAID YES, NICKY! SHE SAID YES!"

"Oh Good Goat, my spleen! -acckk-!" Nick wheezes. He feels as though he was going to break on half from the ZBI agent's fierce "bunny" hug (which was far worse than a bear hug). Somehow, he always knew that he was going to go out this way: D-O-A-L (or Death by Overly-Amorous Lagomorph). However, he had expected the death-blow to come from his almost perpetually over-charged wife, but at least he'll die knowing that he was close. On the other paw, what was with everybody referring to him as 'Nicky' today?

"Hey-Hey, Jack!" Judy soothes, "Calm down and release my husband." Then she adds with a smirk, "I still need him to fix the garage door."

"Oh dear. Jackie," A smooth, almost singsong voice chides, "Please put Nicholas down. You know how well the ZBI takes getting reports about their agents inflicting bodily harm upon the civilian populous."

Through the open door, an arctic vixen glides into the Mixed-species home. Even in the casual clothes that she now wears, this vixen is clearly a sight to behold. Graceful, well-groomed, and beautiful are all adjectives used by many who know her. However, despite all of her admirers, only one has ever gotten the privilege to call her betrothed: the hare that is now squeezing the life out of the poor red fox.

Said hare's eyes widen at his gross lack of control and releases Nick from death row. The fox tumbles to the floor, desperately trying to regain his breath and force away the black that had nearly covered his vision.

With a cough, the hare grips Nick by the shoulders and helps stand him back up. He brushes the imaginary dust off of the still-recovering vulpine's shoulders, and says with a terse smile, "My apologies, Nicholas. I suppose I allowed my emotions to best me. Heat of the moment as they say. I do owe you the acquiring of the hand of my soon-to-be-wife." His gaze redirects to the vixen beside him, giving her a gentle, love-filled look and wink.

Nick wheezes a little bit before placing one of his signature smug half-smiles on his face. He couldn't stop what came next, not after nearly being offed by Jack.

"That's alright, 'Jackie', you can keep it. I've got two already perfectly functioning hands anyway."

Judy rolls her eyes (while simultaneously trying to fight off a giggle) at Nick's attempt at a joke using word-play. "Just like my husband to make a joke after staring death in the face."

Nick turns his attention to the rabbit beside him. "S'cuz I'm such a brave paragon of justice and comedy, Love. Not even my own funeral could stop me from making everybody laugh."

Skye puts a hand to her chest and scoffs in mock shock, "Such a morbid thought, Nicholas." Then her own face gains a sly look. "Of course, this is all assuming your able to get your lazy butt up in time to show up for your own funeral."

Both Jack and Judy let out chuckles at Nick's expense.

Nick feigns hurt before leaning forward and whispering into one of Jack's long ears, "I think you should take that ring back buddy; looks like you might've accidently snagged yourself the queen of ice here."

A white-furred paw grips the collar of Nick's shirt and jerks him toward it's owner, and for the second time in the past sixty seconds, Nick's life is flashing before his eyes.

Now it's just getting boring...

The sound of something akin growl pulls Nick from his internal slide-show. "This ring," Skye starts. "This ring was given to me by the love of my life. And if you so much as even try to take either from me, joking or not, I will be wearing a new red pelt for my wedding day. Understand?"

Nick merely nods. Hell hath no fury like a vixen scorned, eh?

And just like that, Agent Skye is gone and replaced by her elegant counterpart in little more than a single second. "Excellent!" She chirps. "Now, if the smell coming in from your kitchen is anything to go by, I do believe that Wildecakes are about to be made. Do you mind if we stay here for a bit? I'm rather exhausted still from yesterday."

Judy nods happily, clearly already pleased with how the day was going, and says, "Of course, the kids and I were just about to start making some. You can help if you'd like!"

Judy and Skye make for the kitchen, leaving Nick and Jack to stand in the entryway.

"That's one hell of a woman you got there, Jack," Nick comments, one eyebrow raised.

Jack lets out a dreamy size. Yup, he's a goner. "I know," is all he says.

Then something Skye had said finally catches up with Nick. "Wait, she said she's 'exhausted from yesterday' I thought you guys had the day off?"

Jack merely smirks at Nick as he moves to join everyone else in the kitchen.

Think Nick, the little voice in his head reasons, What did you and Judy do all day, hell, all week, after you proposed to her?

Oh...

A/N: Not done yet! I'm going to make this a sweet little 2-3 part story, so expect the next part (either the end, or close to it) sometime next week-ish.

I'm literally flying by the seat of my pants here, and letting my fingers put down whatever comes up in my mind, so I'm sorry if it seems like a psychotic mess and has no real plot direction yet. As the title and summary suggests, this is just supposed to be a little bit about Nick coming to realize he has reached that little slice of heaven on Earth. Even if he is barely skirting death more often in his own house than when he is out fighting crime.

Hope that little salt in the beginning was enough to get you through the stifling fluff that may or may not be any good of the main story.

Have a good one,

~RandomFanFiction101