Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

A reviewer complained, rightly, that I made things too obvious last chapter. That was what I meant about cutting the story short. To do the mystery correctly there would have been evidence Professor Plum, as a good department head, kept a closer eye on Matt Shells than I put in chapter 10. Professor White's absence the day after the murder would have appeared suspicious (especially in the light of Matt Shells' computer being missing), Matt Shells would have had a few secrets of his own, and Mustard and Peacock would have raised suspicions with their contradictory stories on what happened after the party. Even the breakup with Miss Scarlett would have happened earlier – to make her a suspect. Juggling all six suspects would have taken a LONG novel. So, I made things obvious so I could wrap it up with a short chapte here. I think the problem, more than a lack of reviews, was that I wasn't having fun writing. What I enjoy is Judy and Nick's interaction and it was in danger of disappearing if I developed the potential mystery.

I like the Judy and Nick dynamic, they fit Cab Calloway's list of things that go well together in his 1941 song.

Like Minnie the Moocher and Smokey,
like Harlem in stormy weather,
we go well together.

We Go Well Together

Monday dawned overcast, with a vague threat of rain in the air. Nick took it as an evil omen. "Looks like rain. A bad luck day."

"What are you talking about? Rain is good luck!"

"What are you talking about? Rain is–"

"What farmers want. Honestly, you have no concept of what goes into the food you eat, do you?"

Nick looked down at the pot, "Uh, two-thirds cup of steel-cut oats, cup and half of water, pinch of salt, and simmer for thirty minutes. Garnish with a pat of butter and–"

"Where did the oats come from?"

"From this box."

Judy threw up her arms, "Please, please, please tell me you aren't serious."

"Of course I'm serious. I opened the box last week."

Judy sighed, "Oh, that's right. You're never serious, are you?"

"Only when I tell you how much I love you."

"Nice one," Judy complimented, and kissed him on the end of his nose.

The day was utterly routine. The investigation they handled needed to be done, but Nick felt like any of the First detectives who were capable to chewing gum and walking at the same time could have handled it. (That did eliminate a couple, in the fox's mind, from being able to cover what he and Judy did, but only a couple.) He felt his time would have been better spent on the Smokey Joe case.

Judy saw his fidgeting, and correctly guessed the reason. "Have some patience," she told him. "Jonathan and David can handle it."

"You hope," thought Nick.

A long black limo was parked outside Judy and Nick's building when they returned home.

"I wonder–" began Judy.

Nick's opinion was, "Trouble."

A large bear, wearing a chauffeur's uniform got out, opened the door to the passenger compartment, and beckoned for them to enter.

"Run for it," suggested Nick. "If we split up he can't catch us both."

"How about we see what it's about first," Judy said, and moved toward the limo. Nick followed reluctantly.

"Where are you taking us?" the rabbit asked.

"You're going nowhere," a voice Judy didn't recognize answered from the back. "We decided to wait for you, and hold our conference, in style." Judy looked in and saw a female lemming with an eye-patch she recognized primarily from description as Chelsea Dagger. The nervous looking shrew Judy didn't recognize at all sat sat by the lemming. "Please get in, Detective, and try not to believe everything the fox may have said about me."

"Always a good suggestion," agreed Judy and took a seat opposite the smalls.

The bear went back to his position in the driver's seat and Nick, fearing Judy might be kidnapped, reluctantly joined his wife on the back seat. "Judy, Chelsea Dagger. Ms Dagger, my fiancée, Judy Hopps."

"We're friends," the lemming smiled. "Your wife. Mister Big is disappointed you didn't accept his gracious offer to use the mansion for the ceremony and reception."

Nick felt his mouth grow dry with fear, "Uh, how disappointed?"

The lemming waved it off with a gesture, "I've squared things as best I could. I explained that you wanted to keep it quiet because of police regulations. He is a generous individual and accepted your apology."

The fox decided to change the subject, "And your friend?" he said, nodding at the nervous shrew.

"Another business associate, Myron."

"First name or last."

Chelsea pondered the question, "I don't know. Never asked. Maybe his name is Myron Myron."

The shrew shot her a dirty look and shook his head 'no'.

"He seems terribly nervous," observed Nick.

"I suspect this is the closest he's ever been to a police officer. Guilty conscience, I imagine."

"And you don't have one?"

"I remember the promise for amnesty for all prior crimes was part of the deal with the bosses to get their support for a small police force."

"And Big will be clean by the time the force is launched?" Judy asked.

"Ninety-nine percent there already."

"But I still don't know why the two of you are here," Nick reminded her.

"Two reasons. I said Big isn't angry you didn't hold the wedding at the mansion, just disappointed. Myron and I hate to see Big disappointed. First, the two of you are having dinner at the mansion this Friday evening. It will be a chance for Detective Hopps to catch up with Fru Fru."

"On, Nick, that will be lovely!" Judy exclaimed.

Nick didn't agree. He took the lemming's words as more threat than invitation. It was effective threat, the fox didn't want to disappoint Big again. "You said two reasons."

"Disappointed or not, Big wants to give a suitable wedding gift to the godmother of his grandchildren. He tasked Myron and me with finding something you would be very happy to receive for a wedding gift."

Judy tried to object, "We really don't need–"

The lemming put up her hand to silence the rabbit. "You don't need anything? Fine. What would you want? Money is no object. We've heard you have a large apartment. Would you prefer a house? Matching Rolex™ watches – high end, of course? Exotic vacation? Sailboat?"

"No," Judy told her firmly. "It would look like you were bribing us with expensive gifts."

"It looks like you're insulting Big if you turn down his generous offer. Come now, there must be something you've wanted and never indulged in."

"No, really, we're fine."

"Let me put it another way. If you don't give us some gift ideas there may be a delivery to the First. Unwrapped, so everyone can see what they are. Two very, very expensive watches sent to Mrs. and Mr. Judith Hopps."

"Nick kept his own name."

"I'm not surprised. Males can be so selfish. Point is, I'm sure you wouldn't like that. Use your imaginations. Ask for something extravagant or Big might see turning down his offer as an insult."

Nick experienced an epiphany as a vision of a top-of-the-line cappuccino machine went through his mind. They were hideously expensive, which is why he'd always bought cheap machines. Judy enjoyed cappuccinos... It would also be a gift for her. But... Judy had just given him a new machine. It wasn't top-of-the-line, but it was nice machine. Asking for a new one would be an insult to Judy. He wouldn't ask for the machine.

The rabbit offered a suggestion, "A piano?"

"A piano?" Dagger asked in surprise.

"Nick plays," explained Judy. "And sometimes I sing with him."

The shrew and lemming looked at each other, Myron shrugged an 'okay'.

"Is there room for a grand?" Chelsea asked.

"No, nothing that big," Judy insisted. "My friend Sharla had an electric piano in her house when I was little. They aren't big, and I don't think they're expensive."

"May depend on the model," Dagger said, "but sounds like an idea." She looked at the fox, "Any ideas in your head?"

"I was thinking maybe dishes."

"A male thinking about dishes?"

"Very traditional wedding gift. Judy mostly has unmatched thrift shop china; first time she's really had a kitchen. I had cheap stuff from Bargain Lots. A real set of dishes–"

Judy smiled and grasped Nick's arm, "That would be wonderful..." She paused and looked at the lemming, "Nothing too expensive."

"Tasteful," Chelsea assured her. "It will be tasteful."

"What time is dinner this Friday?" asked Judy.

"Seven-thirty."

Nick asked, "Will Vaughn be there."

Myron's first words were, "Who's Vaughn?"

"Oh, he's a secret? He's Ms Dagger's source for information on my engagement and wedding to Judy."

The lemming blushed beneath her fur, "He, uh, discovered something being planned which would have embarrassed you, so he, ah, asked me to help him scuttle those plans."

"Vaughn called you for help?"

"I know him from the campaign for mayor, remember? He remembered me and knew I could get things done."

"And you hadn't seen him since the campaign, when you asked me for his number?"

"None of your business. He asked for help. I gave it."

"And you took it on yourself to pass the news on to Big."

"What can I say? Big likes the rabbit."

As the limo pulled away Myron asked, "We get them both gifts?"

"Of course."

"I don't understand – You threatened them! Big likes them and you threatened them."

"I didn't–"

"You threatened to send expensive watches to the First!"

"Minimal threat. I found the fox responds well to threats. The rabbit? Don't know how to 'motivate' her, but I don't think threatening violence would work. Tell me, better to issue a little threat and get gift ideas, or go back and tell Big we failed to find a gift they wanted?"

Myron changed the subject, "And who is this Vaughn?"

"Like I told the fox, he's none of your business."

On Tuesday Nick and Judy took their turn with a surveillance detail. They watched the apartment of a female friend of a murder suspect. He might try visiting her. It was possible he was hiding in her apartment, but there was probably not enough evidence for a search warrant. And, even if they obtained a search warrant, if he wasn't there it would tip off the suspected killer and his female that the apartment was known.

It was an excruciatingly dull shift. At the end of a half hour with the binoculars Nick suggested, "Could I call–"

"No." Judy started her turn.

Nick took out his phone.

"Who are you calling," demanded Judy.

"The First, surely I'm allowed to call my own precinct."

The phone was answered, "Nick?"

"Hey, just wondering if–"

Ben Clawhauser sighed, "No news since the last time you called. I told you, I'll call you if I hear anything on the Smokey Joe murders."

"You might have been too busy to call."

"Nope. I'll call. I promise."

Late in the shift, with nothing still happening, Judy asked, "Have you thought more about what Carnac said?"

"Huh?"

"Help him with some show; that was a lot of money?"

"We're doing okay. You'd just insist on paying taxes on it."

"Seriously. We could do it and give the money for cancer research in memory of Annie."

"In memory..."

"Her mom sent me an email... Funeral service on Sunday. I said we'd go."

His patience at an end Nick called Malus Kane at the Fourth on Wednesday. "Sorry to be a pain in the tail, but do you know what's happening with Jonathan and David's investigation?"

"They're doing great. Going to a judge today to try and get a court order for a home search."

"Who? Do you know who?"

"Sorry, no."

"Have they screwed up again?" the fox wondered. "Okay, I'll wait. Hope they get the order. What do you hear on Ernie and... Forgot the name of his partner, the giraffe."

"Frank Oak. Ernest Hunter and Frank Oak. Eager young rookie and tired old cop nearing retirement? Would make a good movie, or maybe even a television series. You know, the mismatched buddy plot."

"But seriously."

"Seriously, they're doing fine. Ernie has a good work ethic. He's from Bunnyburrow, like Judy?"

"Right."

"Maybe the ZPD should set up a recruiting system there. Don't think Ernie is as much on the ball as Judy, but he works hard and will make a good cop."

"Do you see him during the day?"

"Frequently, why?"

"Tell him Gina would like a call."

"Gina... She was a female he during during the–"

"Right, and don't listen to Judy. Gina is much better for Ernie than Iris."

Judy asked, "So, would you rather look for dumb crooks or a smart crook?" as they returned to the First on Thursday afternoon.

"I'd rather be looking for the Smokey Joe killer."

"I'm not talking about specific cases. I mean, in the abstract, do you prefer having a crime like this afternoon – where the thief almost turns himself in, or does your crafty brain require the stimulation of a Dawn Bellwether?"

"So, would I prefer life being simple or someone trying very hard to kill me? Given that choice, I'll take a crook who has handcuffed himself before we get there – after writing out a full confession, in front of twenty-seven witnesses. I don't know why boredom has such a bad name, it's a whole lot better than a psycho trying to kill you. Your choice, Carrots?"

"Is there something in between?"

"No, I'm pretty sure the rabbit who posed the initial question only gave two extremes as the possible choices."

"She didn't think that through well, did she?"

"Does appear to have been a mental lapse on her part, she has them occasionally. Rumor has it she married a fox."

"Seriously?"

"Afraid so."

"You make it sound like a mistake."

"A rabbit? Married to a fox? That doesn't sound odd to you?"

"She sounds like the luckiest rabbit in the world, in my opinion."

"I suspect her parents don't hold that opinion."

"I'm sure her parents trust her judgment and agree

Ben waved as they entered, "Detective Nyte is here! She's been waiting for you to get back!"

"Lylah's back? She isn't due to start working until Monday. Oh, and she's Detective Bagheera now."

"Oops, that's right."

The panther was chatting with Detective Gannon when they entered. She saw Judy and headed in their direction. "Was that arrest as easy as Readover claims?"

"What version did you hear?"

"He says the perp forgot where he parked the getaway car and you caught him while he was looking for it."

"Okay, that's what happened. Nick and I were saying the job could be boring if every robbery was that simple."

"But a nice change of pace?"

"Absolutely! Although Nick thought boring sounds better than being shot."

"Where is the fun in boring?"

"Exactly. But the real question is why are you here? I thought you weren't scheduled to return 'til next week."

"Maybe she killed George for his life insurance," Nick suggested. "He's mysteriously absent."

"We came back a couple days early to set up up our home. Unlike some animals, who I won't name, we didn't move in together before marriage." She gave Judy a wink, reminding her she knew the two were married even if it was still a 'secret'. "Oh, and Readover suggested a pool – dumb crook of the week. We all throw in a cred and whoever has best story wins."

"Every detective would vote for his or her own case," Nick objected.

"I think the top couple would be obvious," argued Lylah, "then take a vote. But I need to get home and help George. Just wanted to come in and tell everyone how happy I am. Hope you and Judy make it official some day when they change the regulations to allow a married couple to serve as partners." She gave Judy another wink and left.

Eli David called on Friday to tell Nick, "We served a search warrant on Giles Green. Evidence is at Forensics for evaluation now. Hoping he made a couple stupid mistakes, won't know for sure until they're done with the testing."

"If he is... Hell, I think he is the killer, but he didn't make a lot of mistakes in framing Duke Weaselton. What did you get? What are you hoping Forensics will find?"

"Remember your question about whether the bullets that killed the victims matched the shell casings?"

"Yeah, but what–"

"Well, JJ did some research on Green. Apparently there's some kind of Who's Who of academics – where they got degrees, spouses, colleges where they've taught, hobbies, and stuff like that. Guess who came up as a gun collector?"

"A peccary who teaches at Zoo U?"

"Yep. Lot of testing to do at Forensics, but we hope he thought there'd be ballistics confusion since the gun that fired the shells for the casings won't match the gun that fired the bullets that did the killings. But we're hoping we can show the jury that he had both guns in his possession, much harder to defend."

"Maybe he tossed them both after the murders."

"A collector?"

"Doesn't toss."

"Right. And plenty of old ammunition. Pretty sure he had Matt Shells' laptop."

"That would be solid."

"Maybe not so much for the laptop. He denies it belongs to Shells, and if we prove it defense will argue that Shells left it there accidentally when talking with his adviser, and claim Green forgot it was Shells'. But what we really want is whatever Green used to cause the video distortion and open the lockers."

"You didn't find that?"

"Could have, we wouldn't recognize it if we saw it. But have some smart animals looking over some of the stuff we found, and are hoping to find details and the design on Shells' computer."

"You talk like you think Green is the killer."

"That's our opinion."

"So... What happens with Weaselton?"

"Ouch. Good point. Forgot about him while we worked the Green angle. I'll get the ball rolling on the weasel's release within the half hour."

"Thanks."

"Oh, and assuming Green is charged – and I'm pretty sure he will be – I'll make sure JJ gives you credit in the report."

"That isn't necessary."

"Yes it is. No one I know likes to admit a mistake. JJ is a good detective, but I think he's worse than average on confessing to errors. It'll do him good... Although he still may find away to avoid it."

Judy and Nick gathered evidence from a burglary and returned to the First.

"Will you type it up?" Nick requested, "I want to call the jail and see if Duke's been released yet."

"You have spent far too much time obsessing over Duke the last couple weeks. I'm jealous. Call. I hope he's out so you'll pay some attention to me."

Nick nuzzled her ears. "I'll pay you a lot of attention, tonight," he whispered.

"After dinner at the mansion," she reminded him.

Nick placed his call, "Has Duke Weaselton been released yet?"

"Let me... No."

"No? Why not? I was told the detective who–"

"Look, it takes almost as much paperwork to get someone out of jail as it does to put someone in."

"But they found the real killer!"

"No arrest yet. Doesn't matter, even if there was an arrest, until the paperwork is done – saying the charges have been dropped, he might be considered an accomplice."

"You don't really think that."

"No, but the paperwork has to be done."

"So how long until you can release–"

"Maybe an hour, if you get off the phone and let me do my job."

Nick hung up. "Jerk."

"I hope that's not directed at me."

"Sorry, my love, it was most definitely not aimed at you. Low level bureaucrat insisting on all t's being crossed and i's dotted before Duke can be let out of jail."

"He wasn't released immediately?"

"See, the problem is you're thinking logically. That would make sense. He's not cleared until all forms have been filled out in triplicate, notarized by sloths, and incorrectly filed. Then, if the calendar isn't too full, they can schedule his release within the month."

"Would you rather the jail simply released prisoners without checking to verify they are supposed to be released?"

"And there you go again, being logical. Where is the fighting spirit – the burning desire to upend the system? Judy Hopps, defending the status quo? Has the world gone mad?"

"You didn't answer the question, do you want the jail releasing prisoners without making sure they are supposed to be released?"

"No."

Judy smiled

"If you've spent a couple weeks in jail, but haven't committed any crime–" Judy coughed, and Nicked corrected it to, "You didn't commit the crime they arrested you for, every minute seems like a day."

"True enough. But hopefully they've told him that they're doing the paperwork for him."

"Good point. Maybe they forgot. I could call and... I could call and they'd tell me to drop dead. He told me an hour, I call back in an hour." Nick pushed back his chair and stood up. "Going in the see Alces."

"Need another assignment? I'm not through with this report."

"I figure the report will take forty-five minutes or so. I'm going to ask if we can pick up Duke and take him out to see his grandmother."

"You're working hard for Duke."

"He'll owe us one next time we ask for a tip. And it may get the old weasel off our backs."

"Two good points. Ask."

As they drove Duke to the Golden Fields Retirement Home he asked, "Sos, dey found da real killer?"

"Think so. Getting the evidence assembled for the arrest."

"How much did youse has to do wit' it?"

"Nick worked very hard for you," Judy assured him.

"Uh, tanks," the weasel said, not feeling comfortable with knowing that he owed the detectives. "Youse could not have gots me out sooner?"

"The animal who framed you did one heck of a job," Nick reminded him. "He was a genius. Takes a genius to frame Duke Weaselton."

"Yeah," the weasel smiled. "Yeah. Gots dat right."

The two detectives were unable to get into their apartment when they returned home in the evening.

"Oh, dear," Mrs. Riverbank apologized, "the delivery animals shouldn't have blocked your door like that. What is all of this?"

"Wedding presents I think," Judy answered.

"Dishes," added Nick.

The otter pointed to an especially large box to one side, "I don't believe they put dishes in anything that size."

Judy clapped her paws together with joy, "And a piano!"

"That's small for a–"

"An electronic piano. But it has a full keyboard."

"You play?"

"I don't, but Nick does."

"A little," corrected the fox.

They managed to get everything into the apartment, and open some of the boxes.

"These are... It's beautiful!" said Judy.

"And I think we're ready if you ever want to host a sit-down dinner for fifty people."

"There aren't that many place settings, are there?"

"I don't know. We haven't opened everything. We might find silverware and crystal if we keep looking. Help me get the piano out before we go."

"And this is where if I say the piano can wait, you tell me the dishes could have?"

"Exactly. We need to see it before it's time to dress."

"Why?"

"So we can say thank-you to Big and tell him it's wonderful."

"Okay, but be careful. I don't want you to hurt your back. I have plans for you after dinner."

"We could leave the piano in the box and turn them into before-dinner plans?"

"After dinner. Open box now. See piano. Get dressed in your tuxedo."

"The tux? Dagger didn't say formal."

"It's Big's mansion. You should assume formal."

"I never assume formal."

"Then it's a good thing we're married. A wife's duty, well, one of them anyway, is to see that her husband is dressed appropriately."

"And you wear the little black dress?"

"Absolutely. And you fasten the pearls around my neck as I tell you how much I love you, and feel like the luckiest female in the world to be married to you."

Nick put his arms around her, "I'm the luckiest male."

-The End-