a/n: Watched Zootopia last week and fell die hard in love with Wilde Hopps. The directors and writers and animators and everyone else involved really got it right when it came to these two, and I wanted to expand in a world in case the sequel never happens-or if it takes an opposite turn.

As she got older, Judy's future became a game of sorts.

Her career was always the priority. She'd go to Zootopia, change the world, be the best cop she could be, and after that, it didn't matter. Her sights, like her actions, were done in the moment; she assumed she'd work, work, until she couldn't work anymore.

Her siblings joked she'd be the last of them to get married, the last of them to have kids. She took their jokes in stride. In her opinion, they weren't wrong. The likelihood of a relationship and kids, although promisinig in its own way, didn't appeal to her as it did her parents and family.

It was these thoughts that occupied her mind as she was confined to a hospital bed in Zootopia General. Her drug induced haze glared at the sketchy television screen, and her paw flicked through the channels, not really able to discern one from the other. There was an All My Antelopesmarathon on FNN, and the gameshow channel was pumping another Trap that Species.

Her paw fell helplessly, and she sighed. There was nothing good about this; nothing good about this at all. She didn't look underneath the bed sheets to know what she was in for, and she chewed her lower lip, the crippling pain from earlier acting as a tantalizing but poignant reminder as to why she was in her current condition.

The surgeon said the gunshot wound wasn't as terrible as it could have been, and they managed to remove the bullet and stop the bleeding in record time. Stupid, stupid, stupid, she cursed as he relayed the news to her, You went in too fast-too hard.But her optimism didn't fail her, and she found herself relieved she wasn't, she didn't know, dead.

Which was what her parents thought when they had visited her; it had taken five stern reminders from the nurse that she couldn't be touched. Her condition was fragile, as was her body and everything else about her, he implied. It frustrated her, annoyed her, bristled not at her pride but her sense of duty, and she felt she had failed, somehow.

"Looks like Sleeping Beauty's finally woken up from her long overdue nap," her ears pricked, and a soft smile replaced her agitated frown. Nick sauntered to the bed with an airy confidence that was too true to be real, and he took a seat, still dressed in uniform, as his tired green eyes perked in her presence. She tried to displace his concern and worry, the stiffness in his joints as he sat in the chair, and she hummed an off tune melody to fill the silence.

"We caught him-her, the perp," he yawned, "after you got hit, they skirted to Rodentia. Pretty easy to pinpoint her, and well, when you try to whack Mr. Big's beloved granddaughter's equally beloved godmother…you get the picture."

He was rambling; she knew. She tried to move closer, but couldn't, not if she wanted to disturb her bandaged torso. Seeing this, Nick's eye widened, and he pulled his chair closer to the bed, placing his hand on top of hers reassuringly, "And you're hanging up well, I suppose?"

"As well as a fox can be without his partner, and his wife, but…things are great at home," his paw tightened around hers, and she felt the swell of heat and coolness still on her, strange.

"Look, Nick, I am so sorry for getting you into all of this," she rolled her eyes and suppressed a groan, "if I hadn't been so gunho, but I knew if I wasted-doesn't matter, I'm sorry."

He scoffed, rolling his eyes at her sincere apology, "That's the reason why I love ya', Carrots, but yeah, it was scary seeing you like that-so don't ever do it again, 'kay?" It was said playfully, with a hint of reproach, but the pleading undercut didn't go unnoticed.

"I'll try my best," and they knew it was a promise. She was the best tryer in the whole city, and when she made a promise she usually stuck to it. But still, he wasn't going to relinquish his hold on her paw until he saw with his eyes, in her eyes, the wide eye wash he always saw when he was with her.

"Now, now, don't get too mushy on me," hard to say when he was close to tears himself. He had found her, he was the last name she whispered as she slipped into unconsciousness, and his controlled demands for backup rolled through static and screamed at Clawhauser.

He remembered, not that he'd forgotten, "I got a present for you, well, someone does, but I put it together." He patted her paw and stood up, going to the open doorframe and speaking to someone on the outside. Confused, she craned her head to see, but was too exhausted and weak to see beyond the walls.

"Nick, I told you I didn't want anything-,"

"Nah, nah, isn't going to fly this year," he waved her off, and spoke again to the person, "Look, I know you're embarrassed, you're not? Then-ah, look, don't worry, she's going to love anything you give her. Trust me, I gave her air freshener for our first anniversary."

Waiting, she should have suspected what was coming, but a combination of weakness, exhaustion, and drugs had left her senses a tad off. But either way, she would've been happy, and when Nick returned with his paw holding a tinier paw, she felt blood rush to her cheeks as she patted her mattress excitedly.

"Hey baby," forgetting her current state, she pulled herself up completely, and smiled brightly at the young child, whose free hand held a glittered wrapped box to their chest, "Oh, oh, is that for me?"

"Yeah…," looking to the floor, then forcing themselves to stare at her, "it was for your birthday, but I thought it'd be better to give it to you now. Looks like you need it, Nick agreed."

He shrugged, "The kid has great timing. Couldn't have done better myself."

"Does it still hurt?"

"A little, but don't worry about that!" Her pain was forgotten underneath her euphoria, and she took the gift gently from the child's hand, shaking the medium sized box close to her ears, "Hand made or store bought?"

"A bit of both," a tear gasp escaped their mouth, and they shuffled their feet, "I wasn't sure you'd like it."

"I'd love anything you give me." Darn it! She didn't want to cry, but the tears came freely, gasping as she apologized profusely for events she didn't have absolute control over, "I tried so hard, I wanted to be there for you, and I-I'm so sorry baby, I am, and I thought-maybe, maybe you were angry with me."

"Why would I?" They shook their heads, water sticking to their red fur, "You tried. I can't ask for more than that."

Despite the distance they tried to keep, Nick gently nudged their back forward until steps were taken towards Judy's open arms, and she pulled them in, cupping them with as much strength as she could. Her tears mixed into their fur, and she kissed their eyes and cheeks, promising she'd never do that again-couldn't think of leaving any of them behind.

Nick followed quickly, unable to resist the urge to take them both in, and he let his chin rest on her head, whispering that he'd never been so worried-so afraid. He didn't want to lose, couldn't think of losing the first person to believe in him, that wonderful blaze shooting through his life.

"I promise ya' Carrots, you aren't going in alone again," rules be damned, the conviction in his voice was somewhat overwhelming.

Judy's future was a tad unorthodox.

First rabbit cop, married to a fox-also her partner, having a child (loving a child) that was neither his or her species.

And who would have won the game, she wondered. Her parents, sisters, brothers, maybe those aunts and uncles (grandmothers and grandfathers) holding firm in that belief that once she found the right man she'd learn to settle and accept her lot in life.

Her career was a priority, so was the city and the citizens she served, and when asked why marry at all-why be a mother, she'd look at them and smile.

"I still can't say they appeal to me, marriage-motherhood, but when I found them, I knew it. So I didn't waste it. You can get that much, can't you?"

The winner didn't matter much in life's grand scheme, but Judy was positive she had gotten more than she bargained for, and loved every second of it.

a/n: In my headcanon Judy and Nick cannot biologically have children together. Hybrids do exist in this world with lions/tigers and other animals as they do in real life, but the fox and bunny can't have funnies or boxes. While it's joked around a bit in the interviews, where it might be a thing in a possible sequel, I like the idea that while no they can't have children together in the traditional sense, they're determined to have a family. Also, Judy never really wanted kids in the first place (being a workaholic), but when she finally encountered the child, "And my heart went BOOM," and Nick's a similar case too.

It's a non-linear story format where I'll include various children and hijinks they find in the Hopps-Wilde family, and tons of fluff and angst, family feels, and some crime drama in between. Nick and Judy would make great parents imo.