Chapter One "The Punchline"

I have the setup for the worst punchline in mammal history. Two cops, a fox and a rabbit, are on their way to visit the bunny's family, who hate foxes. The bunny cop is super excited to finally introduce her partner to her family, who worries about her everyday. She's also completely unaware that the fox cop is mad pants in love with her.

The punchline? I'm the one who offered to go with her.

Yeah, laugh it up. Usually I'm smoother than that. But considering I'm still coming to terms with my feelings for Judy this week, I think I'm owed a few lapses in judgment. And when she comes at you with those wide amethyst eyes, how exactly are you supposed to say no to anything she says? I really should have just kept my snout shut. Story of my life...

But I'm getting ahead of myself and introductions are in order.

Nick Wilde. Ex-con artist turned cop. That one's not another joke, if you can figure it out. You can blame the bunny for it, actually. She's the one who put the idea into my head.

"You know, I think you'd actually make a pretty good cop."

Imagine this. Nick Wilde, con artist of Zootopia, going along on his own just fine for twenty years making $200 a day selling popsicles. The word from one rabbit causes him to drop everything he's worked for to sign up with the ZPD. It's like a horrible romantic comedy. I thought I had been numb to the world and all the trash it had to offer. I was perfectly happy making my dirty money everyday and investing it into a playful future. Maybe open a theme park, if I ever raised enough cash. But that one comment changed everything for me and suddenly there was absolutely nothing else in the world I wanted more than to be a police officer. Of course, I didn't know it at the time but I had fallen for Judy back then. Hard.

Looking back at the six months that followed makes me cringe.

The Nighthowler case. Cripes. A rhino performing heart surgery could have gone cleaner than that mess.

It had it's highs and lows, but nothing touched the press conference when Judy outed predators in the interview. Talk about a dagger to the heart. The old Nick would have shrugged it off. Just prey being prey. Birds fly. Sun shines. And bunnies are scared of foxes. But no, I got all upset with her. Like I had never heard the specist agenda before. I really should have realized something was wrong with me at that point. I even had to take a month off to cool my head. I hid away under a bridge for a while, convincing myself it didn't bother me.

And wouldn't you know it? Just when I'm ready to move on with my life, there she is again.

You probably know the rest of the story. We make up. We crack the case. We become heroes. I think there was a Gazelle contest somewhere in that, or was that afterwards? Regardless, the point is we end up as big shots of the city and I sign up for ZPD.

Now, here's the part they don't tell you.

Police academy training is hard. Like, the hardest thing I've ever had to do hard. And I've had to convince a mob boss to purchase a skunk butt rug.

For starters, you're expected to wake up at 5 AM so they can take you out jogging for 6 miles. I was on an IV drip of coffee the first month. Despite running around the city with Judy during the Nighthowler case, I was horribly out of shape. My sores had sores by the end of the first day. By the end of the second, I couldn't feel my legs.

Then, if that wasn't bad enough, at the end of every week they have you take an exam. Most of them are on the study of laws, ethic tests, and traffic details. The usual dry paperwork that your chief punishes you with if you step out of line. Thankfully, when you spend twenty years as a con artist, you tend to know the ins and outs of law so you know where to find the loopholes. Still, there were plenty of nights I had to stay up late to study. The worst parts were trying to sleep alone in the smelly cots they provide you. Even when I wasn't studying and my body was spent, I had trouble sleeping.

The bright moments in all this were the occasions when Judy could break from work for lunch. It was an hour at most. She would talk about work and her cases, which I kept tabs on through the news. I would complain about the academy and make her laugh. It was simple. It was safe. And I loved every minute of it.

Again, you'd think the message would sink in at this point. But I'm a thick fox.

Graduation rolls around and it makes the torture of police academy all worth it. There's Nick Wilde, first fox of the ZPD, dressed in his blues and aviators. He's sipping his coffee, trying to act cool during the graduation speech. Judy is the one at the podem, of course. The look of pride she gave me as she pinned the shiny gold badge on my chest made me want to run the gamut of the academy all over again. My one rule is to never let them see they get to you. But inside, I was a mess of emotions. Some of them I haven't ever felt before.

Fast forward another three months and life is good. Life is real good.

I get to see Judy every day because we're partners and probably the best pairing in the force. We're this ultimate team of smarm and wit, cracking down on cases like we've been officers for years. And folks are starting to notice.

Turns out, mammals will actually give you respect if you're a police officer. Who knew? The city is seeing a real turnover, slow and steady. Sure, it still has its share of bigots. But we're right there on the front proving them wrong and making big speeches against the hate. Well, mostly Judy anyway. I'm just happy to be working at an honest job, earning honest money, and paying honest taxes. Did I mention she got me paying those now?

I got more confident from my work. Not egotistical, that's always been the case. But I began to notice it when I walked down the street. I wasn't this shifty fox with something to hide. Suddenly, I was a decorated police officer and a hero of Zootopia. I also had the best partner I could ever hope to ask for. So, I'm wandering around the streets, blissfully unaware of my own feelings for a certain rabbit.

Then comes Finnick.

You don't go from con artist to cop without losing a lot of friends. I'll always be grateful that Finnick didn't drop ties with me, much less give me the time of day. But if there ever was a smaller fox with a larger mouth…

We make a habit of going out for drinks, on the occasion, to catch up. After one drink, and being less than half my size, Finnick removes what little filter there is on his mouth and speaks his mind. This was last weekend and it's been about a month since our last round together, so it's been awhile since we've seen each other. Finnick is doing well enough without me, running his hussles with some dopey wolf. They're small time, so I'm more than happy to look the other way and Finnick knows which lines not to cross. He hasn't changed a day since we ended our partnership. But those aren't the words he has for me when he looks me down after a few months on the force.

"You've gone soft, Nick."

We're well into our rounds into this point, but the words still sting a bit. Nick Wilde has never been soft. He's been sly. Clever. Sleazy. Cunning. Charming, on the occasion. But soft?

"Now you're just being insulting, Mr. Toot Toot."

"Nah. Since that rabbit hustled you, you've been a changed mammal. I ain't ever seen anyone clean up their act so quick."

"What's your point, Finnick?"

Finnick's leer was something akin to a creepy old mammal from an H. P. Loveclaw story.

"You totally got the hots for that bunny butt."

The night ended shortly after that. I remember being very bitter on the walk home, internally calling Finnick a few colorful words before making my way to bed. Sleep didn't come any easier with the alcohol performing a grand orchestra on my head. Not that I had a particularly restful six months. I was pretty used to the insomnia, writing it off as nerves from a sudden change in career and lifestyle. But that night, instead of dozing, I was wide awake.

I kept thinking about what Finnick had said with his hoarse laugh.

I scoffed at the idea. Nick Wilde fallen for a rabbit? The old Nick would have laughed himself into a coma. But then, when I looked back at what I had accomplished in the last year, it was pretty unbelievable. It takes a heck of a motivation to drop twenty years of work on a whim. I started to question why I was a cop and what I saw in this new career. Old Nick would have never come up with doing police work for a living, much less enjoying it.

I thought about Judy and all that she had done for me. Then came the thoughts about her features. Her soft ears. The moments she would genuinely smile at me that made me feel like melting. She could take one of my jokes and laugh. And the times when her eyes were wide while her nose twitched…

Uh oh.

Finnick was a hundred percent right and the realization hit me like a semi accelerating onto a brick wall.

There wasn't any sleep that Sunday night and I needed a gallon of coffee just to keep me going the next day. It scared Judy, that's for sure. I don't think she was used to seeing a sleep-deprived fox, and it isn't pretty. I wasn't much for conversation and didn't dare to even look at her. I was still in denial at that point, after all. Eventually, it became clear to Judy that something was wrong she drove me home from work early with the order to get some sleep.

Tuesday was better. I still couldn't look at Judy, but that's what the aviators were for. I was afraid even glancing at her would cause me to explode in a ball of orange fur and nerves.

It's not like I've never had a crush before, but that was way early into my career as a con artist. After several failed relationships, I sort of mellowed out into my twenties. I still dated on the occasion. But being a hustler doesn't scream long term benefits for the vixens. By the time I was thirty, I just figured the right one would come to me. You sure hit that nail on the head, old Nick.

All of last week was awkward for both of us. There was the upcoming four day weekend to look forward to. But there was an unspoken strain in the air between the two of us. I forced myself into talking with her, just so she would know it wasn't anything that she had done which upset me. I would fake laugh and joke with her, half the time not knowing what I was even talking about. She could probably get me to agree to anything, I was so tired and frazzled.

Wednesday is where I really, really screwed up. It started with simple small talk.

"So, what are you doing with the long weekend, Nick?" Judy asked me.

I was half asleep from staring at the dashboard. "Huh?"

"The four day weekend. You know. You've been stressed lately, so I was wondering if you had plans."

"Carrots, there is a spot on my couch that needs sitting and TV channels that need changing. That is the extent of my weekend plans. Why? You have something going on?"

"You could say that," she chuckled as she drove the cruiser. "Fall is, uh, kind of a big deal for the Hopps family. There's a lot of harvesting to do before the winter. It's led to the one of my dad's creations. The, uh, Hopps Harvest."

I snorted a laugh. "There's right up there with Bunnyburrow in naming schemes."

"I never said we rabbits were good at naming things. And my parents can be a little overbearing."

"Sounds like you're nervous about it."

"Kind of. This is my first year away from them. I'm the first Hopp to move to Zootopia, so I really don't know how they're going to react. I get the feeling they're still bitter I haven't come home yet and given up on my dreams in the city."

"Want me to come with you?"

Nick. What are you doing? Stop.

Judy gave me an out. "I don't want to interrupt your break, Nick. I know you need it. And I don't know how my parents would react to you. I've told them all about you but…"

That had bad vibes written all over it. Old Nick would have just agreed with Judy. But there was a troubled frown on her face that made it so I couldn't leave well enough alone.

"Carrots, I'd be happy to go. I'll show your folks what a good, honest fox of the city looks like. They'll never send you a worried phone call again."

I spent a good hour back at my apartment screaming and pulling at my fur. Me and my big mouth. Perhaps it was my ego that got me to run along with such a horrible idea. But it was more likely me looking in Judy's worried eyes. I knew keeping my gaze from her all week was a bad idea. One glance at her had me trembling at the knees.

That trend carried over to the next day too, when I tried to backpedal on my promise to go on the trip. Just looking at Judy made my tongue shrivel up in my mouth. ZPD should just employ female bunnies. No one would want to commit a crime ever again.

I was resigned to my fate by the end of the day.

I spent all of Thursday night packing for the four day trip and trying to get some sleep. On Friday morning, I dragged myself out of bed to make my way to the train station, where I met up with Judy.

Thus, we come to the punchline of my joke.

There's Judy, excited to finally introduce her family to her fox partner. And there's me, trying to keep together and look happy, all while struggling with these new feelings. I kept on a smug smile as we boarded the train, trying my best not to betray the ball of wriggling worms in my belly. Judy bought my calm persona and was overjoyed just to have me with her.

"I haven't been home since the Nighthowler case," she said as we ascended to the top deck of the tram. "Even though they keep calling me twice a day."

"Trying to prove a point, Carrots?"

"It's always a battle with them. You'll see when we get there."

"Have to admit, I'm a bit nervous about meeting them." Nervous? Hah. That doesn't even begin to describe half of it.

"Just be yourself."

I raised a brow to her. The gesture was not lost on Judy.

"Okay," she corrected. "Maybe a little less smarmy."

Normally, I would have followed with a quick joke, but I wasn't in the mood to come up with something witty. Judy frowned and joined me as we looked out at the view.

Fall had come into its full bloom with the trees outside Zootopia wearing a vibrant orange and yellow display of fireworks amongst their leaves. You didn't get much of a chance to admire the foliage in the city. The weather of Zootopia could change just from walking down the street. It was the con of having a tundra and a desert just a few blocks away from each other. In truth, I could barely remember the last time I ventured out of the city when it wasn't for business. Judy caught my stares out the window and smiled.

"What do you think? Of the trees?"

The sky was azure and cloudless, making the sun shine through and illuminate Judy's form next to me. I didn't often get to see her out of her blues, like most of the other officers never saw her not working. She only had on jeans and a purple sweater. But she was a sight that could captivate me more than the splendors of nature before us. Her eyes were just as big and hopeful as the day I met her. She had that darn positive attitude that never faltered.

And that made me want to make sure she never did lose a spark of happiness.

"Beautiful," I commented, returning her smile. I wasn't talking about the trees.

"There's more when we reach the farm. Dad will probably have the tractor going, giving the kits a hay ride. Then there will be pumpkin pie and cider."

Her eyes glazed, as if she was lost in a memory before she snapped back and looked up at me.

"Thanks for coming, Nick. I promise this will be a trip you won't forget, at the very least."

The reality sunk in that I was on a train fast approaching what I had determined was my certain doom. These were the folks who had armed their daughter with fox repellent before sending her off into the city. Fox repellent! In this day and age. And I not only had to somehow get along with them, but manage my own feelings towards Judy in the span of four days. I did the math in my head. The earliest train out of the burrow would leave around seven in the morning. It was ten now and we'd be arriving around noon. That left me ninety one hours stuck in the sticks.

"I've had worse," I shrugged, speaking to both comfort Judy and myself.

Judy was satisfied with my response and turned to take her seat, leaving me to the window. I had the better part of two hours on the train to sort out my feelings for her.

And something told me I was going to need them.