A/N: O-M-Goodness it's been so long since I've been this inspired (or is it obsessed? Eh, tomayto-tomahto). Did I absolutely adore Zootopia? Yes, yes I did. As much as Clawhauser loves Gazelle. The world and characters are just so rich and diverse and wonderful, and there was still so much left unexplored that it felt like the movie was only scratching at the surface of it all. So this is me, scratching deeper… harder? Okay, dropping this analogy before it gets weird. Anyway, enjoy my foray into this crazy, wonderful world. I will in no way do it justice but I will certainly have fun trying!

One

Judy tugged at her tie and struggled not to crack under the pressure of the hundred unimpressed faces watching her. She had long grown used to giving speeches for various places and occasions as part of her job at the ZPD, but this was by far her toughest crowd yet.

"And that is why it is important not to judge a species based on stereotypes. You must, absolutely must, get to know the animals for themselves. Trust them. Let them show you how amazing they can be when given half the chance. Because if you don't, you're not just hurting them, but missing out on some once in a lifetime friendships."

Someone in the back coughed. A turtle near the front yaaaaawwned. Judy tamped down the urge to thump her foot.

Okay, time for the big guns.

She gestured to the goat standing near the side of the stage. At her cue, he pulled on a cord and the curtain behind her swung aside, revealing a white cart and Finnick, dressed in cargo shorts and a button up shirt—the closest he would come to formal wear.

"So who wants popsicles?" asked Judy, and every face in the room lit up. "Supplied by our sweet neighborhood fox, Finnick!"

Finnick shot her a glare at the term sweet, but obligingly pulled out several bright red popsicles from the cart.

There was cheering and a mad rush to the front. Judy was suddenly glad she had chosen to stand in top of the podium instead of walking around the stage. They might just be kids—which made most of them similar to her in size—but a stampede was still a stampede, and some of them had hooves.

Raising her voice in a futile attempt to be heard about the din, she yelled, "Be careful now! Watch out for Finnick!"

"Single file, students!" trumpeted a nearby teacher, a bull elephant wearing a sweater-vest and a tiny pair of spectacles balanced precariously on top of his long nose.

Immediately the children hushed and shuffled into a messy line in front of the cart, Finnick handing out the icy treat as fast they could reach for them.

"Thank you, Mr. Hathi," said Judy with feeling.

"Think nothing of it, Judy."

Thank goodness she had taken Nick's advice about bringing a bribe. She had chased down criminals who were less intimidating.

"Judy!" A camel loped over. He had shaved his fur down to the last inch and wore an extremely ill-fitting suit. Well—Judy chewed her lip—maybe it wasn't fair to pick on the suit. Everyone knew how hard it was for a camel to find a good tailor. There were just too many awkward angles and humps to work around in order to make an outfit look flattering.

"Principal Caleb. Hello."

"Just a wonderful presentation, Judy," said the camel, coming to a stop beside her podium.

"Thank you, sir. But I think I lost most of them by the end there."

"Nonsense, you did fine. You know you're in real trouble when the students start fidgeting. We had Monica BushyTail come and do a program on food hoarding last month. We couldn't keep them in their seats they were so bored. We even lost two of our younger orangutans in the ceiling beams. Took us almost an hour to get them down." Far from sounding upset about it, Principal Caleb brayed so hard that his knobby knees knocked together.

Judy forced a polite chuckle. "I'll take your word for it, sir."

"Excuse me." At the tiny voice, Judy peered over the side of the podium. A small fox kit had come over, a half-eaten popsicle gripped tight in her paws. "Um… Officer Hopps?"

"Hi, there! What's your name?"

The fox ducked her head. "Vixie."

"What a beautiful name."

The kit's head bobbed even lower. "Thank you."

Judy hopped down from the podium, landing with a bounce next to her. The fox's eyes went wide. But she didn't run away.

"Did you have a question for me?" Judy asked her. "You look like you have a really great question for me."

"Um… yes?" Vixie fiddled with the stick of her popsicle. "Do you—I mean… is it true, ma'am, that you have a partner who's a fox?"

Judy beamed. "An awesome question, I knew it! And you bet I do. His name is Nick. Nick Wilde." Pulling out her phone, she showed it to the girl. Her wallpaper was a somewhat blurry shot of her wrangling at not-very-happy Nick in for a selfie. "See? He's even got the badge and everything. He refuses to wear his hat, though."

"Is he—did he come with you?"

Judy pocketed her phone. "Unfortunately, no. He couldn't make it today."

Refused to come would be more accurate, but she wasn't about to tell the kid that. She had tried so hard to convince him too. She had hit him with every argument that she could think of, but Nick had refused to be swayed.

"The school requested both of us," she had told him after she had managed to finally corner him in the break room. "They asked for you by name, Nick."

Nick, who had been rooting around in the fridge during her spiel, emerged with a glazed doughnut, not doubt stolen from Clawhauser's not-so-secret stash behind the pickles.

The fox had taken one look at her face and shaken his head. "I don't do kids, Carrots."

"But think of all the lives you could be changing. Kids don't watch the news or read the paper, Nick. Unless their parents talk to them about us, they won't know that foxes and bunnies can be police officers now. Don't you want to open up their eyes?"

"Oh, I would open their eyes, all right. They'd be bug-eyed with fear if I went."

"That's not true!"

Nick had just looked at her, on eyebrow cocked.

"Even if they are… uneasy. You could show them your charming side and win them over."

"Are you encouraging me to con children, Carrots?"

"It's not a con," Judy had huffed. "It's the truth. And what about the young foxes? You could be an inspiration to them, Nick. Not to mention—" She leaned in closer, "—have you not seen baby animals before? They're absolutely adorable. Don't you want to come see the cuteness with me?"

She thought she'd have him with that one, but Nick has just sighed. "As much as I appreciate you championing me, Carrots, I've done too many shady things to ever be an appropriate role model for anyone."

"That's not tr—"

"And as for cute." He gave her nose a playful poke. "I already get my full daily dose of adorable from you. Any more and I'd be in danger of OD'ing. You don't want me dead now, do you, Carrots?" And before Judy could tease out the compliment from all the sarcasm—or even huff out a general, "Don't call me cute,"—he was already making his escape, stolen doughnut in hand.

Vixie's tail drooped at Judy's answer. Feeling bad, Judy dug out a card from her pocket and gave it to her. "Here."

The little fox took it, expression brightening. It was Nick's business card. Judy had swiped a couple of them from off his desk that morning, just in case. On it was his name, phone number, and a tiny picture of him looking way too proud of himself.

Vixie trotted away, smiling, being very careful not to let her popsicle drip on the card. Judy watched her go, happy and yet disappointed, too. Not a role model, Nick had called himself. If only he had been here to see what he meant to this little fox. She thought it would have done a lot of good for both of them.

Next time, she swore to herself, she would make him come with her, even if she had to hustle him in order to accomplish it.

By the time Judy had finished at the school and dropped Finnick off at his van—she had refused to let him drive it with that hideous paint job—evening had fallen. She returned to the ZPD to finish up some quick paperwork, then headed down the block to Chausie's.

The bar was a favorite of the ZPD, not just because it was the closest one around, but because there was an area for dancing in the back and drinks were half-priced for officers, who drew in large crowds just by virtue of being cops.

This was because unlike many other bars in the city where the fur tended to fly more easily, citizens knew they could spend an evening at Chausie's without fear of having a fight break out. This drew the more skittish animals to the bar in droves. Deer, bunnies, turtles… anyone undersized or more classically vulnerable who would normally be too scared to venture out for a drink. They all came to Chase' had just settled herself onto a stool and ordered a small carrot cocktail when two tipsy zebras stumbled out of the bar, yipping when a fox ducked between their stripped legs to catch the door.

"Nick!" Judy waved a paw. "Over here!"

He made his way over, expression grumpy. She noticed that he had changed out of his police uniform and into the spare set of clothes he kept stored in his locker at work. The shorts were out of season with fall being well under way, and the shirt was beyond wrinkled. He hadn't even bothered with the top and bottom buttons.

At the end or the bar, Francine and McHorn saw him and started snickering. Nick's expression darkened even further and his upper lip curled, like he wanted to growl at them. His fur was ruffled and covered in bits of white.

Judy squinted. Were those… feathers?

He clambered up onto the stool next to her. Yep, definitely feathers.

"What happened to you?" asked Judy.

Nick caught the bartender's eye and gestured for a drink. "Someone reported a theft," he told her. "And officers Peanut and Unicorn over there thought it would be just hilarious if they sent me over to investigate it."

Judy frowned. "Hilarious? But you're so good with those kinds of cases."

"It was at a hen's house."

"Oh."

"Yes. Oh." Nick pulled a feather from his fur and scowled at it. "Just the sight of me on her doorstep sent Mrs. Cluckington into hysterics. It took me twenty minutes to convince her I was there to help, and that was only after fending off three of her oversized rooster sons who took exception to me 'threatening' their mother."

He let the feather fall to the floor. Judy bit her lip. "That must have been… just awful."

"They had pectorals bigger than my head, Carrots! And their beaks had definitely been sharpened. That's illegal you know. I could've fined them. Stupid cockfighters."

Judy covered her mouth, but not before a snort escaped. Nick cupped a paw to his ear and leaned towards her. "I'm sorry, was that laughter I heard just now? Are you laughing at your partner's pain?"

"I would never."

"You sure?"

"Yes."

"Cause I could have sworn—"

"I wasn't."

"Your nose is twitching."

Judy slapped a paw over it. "I'm a bunny; it does that."

Nick gave her the side-eye. "Uh-huh. If you say so."

"I do. I am. I mean—" She schooled her expression into seriousness. "I'm not."

Her partner rolled his eyes, but the tension eased out of him a little. He started plucking out the feathers from his fur. Judy hurried to help. "So what was stolen?"

"Some golden antique eggs Mrs. Cluckington had inherited from her great-grandmother."

"Sounds like they must have had a lot of sentimental value."

"That, and they were worth a small fortune. Poultry don't joke around when it comes to their nest eggs."

"Any leads?"

The bartender slid over a drink and Nick paused in his de-feathering to take a big gulp. "You could say that."

He pulled a crinkled piece of paper out of his pocket and waved it at her, a smug smile sneaking across his face. "Made the arrest not two hours ago. The case is officially cracked and closed."

"Already?" said Judy, amazed, and in her distraction she accidentally ripped out a feather that had been tangled in Nick's fur, making him yelp. "So where was it? Who was it?"

"That would be a yes, the neighbor's house, and Gosey Goose, Jr."

"How did you figure it out?"

Nick pocketed the paperwork and tapped a claw against his temple. "Hey, they don't call us foxes sly for nothing."

Judy didn't try to hide her laughter this time. Nick grinned, expression pleased.

"Oh my gosh, you guys!" Clawhauser dashed over to them, waving a frantic paw towards the dance floor. "Guys. This is Gazelle's new song! We have to dance."

Judy demurred at the same time Nick said, "I don't think so." But the big cat would not be denied. He snagged the bunny by her sleeve, grabbed the fox by his collar, and lifted them both bodily from their seats.

"Clawhauser!" cried Judy.

Nick could only gurgle.

The dance floor was filled with animals enjoying the music, and even more were crowding in, lured by the sound of Gazelle's voice. The song was lively with a pounding bass Judy could feel through her feet as Clawhauser set her down. Nick coughed and rubbed at his neck, glaring at their spotted coworker. But the cheetah didn't notice; he was too absorbed in the song. He threw himself into the music, prancing around and over the other animals as agile the singer he adored, forgetting all about his unwilling dance partners. Within seconds, the crowd had swallowed him up completely.

Judy looked at Nick and shrugged. They were here now, might as well enjoy a song or two. She started hopping along to the beat. Nick rolled his eyes, but a few hip bumps and he grudgingly joined in too.

They stuck to the edges of the dance floor where they wouldn't be underfoot of the larger animals. There was a particularly exuberant Hippo named Henrietta who was sashaying her way through the crowd that especially worried Judy. But luckily she was easy to keep an eye on.

Eventually, Gazelle's voice trailed off with a final boom of drums and clang of cymbals. A new song swept in behind it, a slower instrumental piece that cleared the dance floor of the wilder party animals and left only a handful of quietly swaying couples behind.

Judy stopped hopping and looked bashfully over at Nick, who had gone stiff at the first plink of piano keys.

"Ah, I guess we should—" Judy gestured to the side of the dance floor.

"Oh! Oh yes, of course—"

"I mean, unless you wanted to—"

"What?" Those bright green eyes swung around to meet her own, and Judy actually felt her courage flee like the worst kind of prey.

"Nothing. Never mind. Let's go get another drink."

But Nick didn't move, and Judy found herself waiting. The fox was studying her, his head half-cocked as if she were a mark he couldn't quite get a read on.

"We could do that," he agreed. "Or…" He drew out the word, and Judy found herself stretching up on her toes, leaning in like that would get her closer to his answer. Anticipation was making curlicues in her stomach.

Nick tipped his nose up, ears flicking back as if distracted by snatches of song, but Judy couldn't even hear the music over her pounding heartbeat.

"Or?" she prompted him.

"Well, it is a good song," he allowed. "We could... if you wanted to—"

"I'd love to!" Too loud, too excited. And she might have hopped. Once. A tiny hop.

But she didn't have time to feel embarrassed about it, because Nick smiled then, a small, crooked thing that softened his sharp fox features and made Judy's insides feel like they were melting into warm, carrot caramel. When had his smiles started affecting her so much? Judy couldn't say for sure. Maybe when she had realized that for all his easy smirks, his genuine smiles were much more rare? Or that almost all those rare smiles, when they appeared, seemed to be directed at her? At least, it felt that way to Judy. Maybe she was reading too much into it. Projecting, as they say, because it was for a certainty that she had never in her life smiled as much as she had in this past year after meeting Nick.

Whatever the reason, all she knew for sure was that she cherished every smile Nick gave her, and found herself actively looking for ways to coax out even more.

Nick held out his paw and Judy took it, feeling both nervous and strangely giddy. He yanked her around in a twirl and Judy squealed in surprise, then giggled when the move dislodged several more feathers from his ruff. They fluttered down around them like fluffy confetti, earning them curious looks from several passing couples.

"I think you might have a bit of a molting problem," Judy stage-whispered to him.

"I think you might be right," said Nick. "How do you think Chief Bogo will feel about me shedding feathers all over his precinct tomorrow?"

"I think he might shave you bald just to help you out."

The fox gave a mock shiver. "I think you might be right. Okay, new plan then."

"And that is?"

He twirled Judy again, spinning her outwards until they were only connected by the tips of their paws. "We dance to the last plume. Think you can keep up, Carrots?"

Judy tightened her grip. "Bring it on, feather boy."

Nick laughed tugged her back to him. He caught her close, and Judy's heart faltered a moment before bouncing back, double-time. He slipped a paw around her waist, and Judy shivered at the contact, struck by how wonderful it felt. And how natural.

She rested her paws on his upper arms, not quite brave enough to reach any higher, and let him lead her in a spirited waltz across the dance floor.

"You're very good at this," said Judy as they glided past Henrietta, now cuddled in the arms of her well-dressed beau.

Nick shrugged. "Dancing is a useful skill to know when conning the rich. It's all dinners and balls, dinners and balls with those guys. Ironically, there's better dancing at the dinners and better food at the balls."

"I refuse to believe you worked so hard for these great dance skills just so you could con some well-off pride of lions," said Judy.

"They were baboons, actually, which might explain the food—"

"Nick!"

"Alright, Carrots, you got me. That wasn't why." He spun her around a pair of mice who were too wrapped up in each other to even notice them. "Truth is, my uncle used to run a dance studio for children of the, shall we say, less loved animal species. When the Junior Ranger Scouts didn't pan out, my mother thought sending me to my uncle's would be a good alternative. He would be able to keep an eye out for me and my cousins also attended at the time, giving me a chance to play with other foxes my own age."

"Why do I feel like there's a 'but' coming?" asked Judy, hopping over a kangaroo's tail as it swept by. Nick caught her and spun them away towards a more deserted area of the dance floor. "Because you are a very clever bunny?"

"A nice attempt at flattery. So go on. What's the but?"

"The but," said Nick with a sigh, "is that I had no real interest in dancing, and my uncle, while strict during class, would skip out the second it was over, leaving all of us kids to fend for ourselves until our parents came to pick us up. As for my cousins…" Nick shook his head. "They had already been indoctrinated into the stereotypical fox lifestyle, and were proud of it."

"And by that you mean…"

"That they were terrible little con artists. They divided their time between heckling me for my soft home life and bringing me up to scratch on what they saw as fundamental fox skills."

"Like hustling?"

Nick shot her a wink and one of his phony, too-big grins. "You got it. And I was so mad about, well, everything, that I was only too happy to learn whatever they deigned to teach me. Turns out I was a natural."

"A natural, huh?"

They had reached the edge of the dance floor, back to almost the exact same spot they had started out at. The song was still going strong but they weren't dancing to it anymore. At some point, Judy had gone from gripping Nick's arms to resting her paws against his chest. Nick still held her around the waist, but had drawn her closer in a much more intimate hold. Judy wasn't sure he even noticed he had done it, but her heart was thumping crazily and she prayed he couldn't feel it. He didn't seem in a rush to let her go, at least, and she wasn't about to pull away first.

"I'll give you that you do have some very exceptional natural abilities," said Judy, and smiled when she felt Nick's chest puff up a bit under her paws. "But it has nothing to do with hustling."

Nick blinked, frowned, and deflated a bit. "I hate to break it to you, Carrots, but that's the only natural ability I've got."

"On the contrary," said Judy. "You're also very funny. That has nothing to do with conning citizens."

"Is that why I'm so popular? If only you had told me sooner."

"And you're clever," she went on, ignoring his sarcasm. "And determined, when you let yourself be. Not to mention brave, loyal, kind—"

"You're making me blush here, Carrots." But despite the glib response, he was looking distinctly uncomfortable. It made Judy grin. It was so hard to catch the fox off guard, but oh-so-satisfying whenever she managed it.

Nick cleared his throat and looked away. "You know, Carrots. You're also… I mean… Don't think that I'm not… well…"

Each stutter plucked at Judy's heart. Deciding to have mercy on him, she patted his chest, silently shushing him and drawing his gaze back to her.

"It's okay," she told him. "I wasn't saying those things so you would be forced to reciprocate. I just wanted you to know that no matter what some bird-brained hen thinks or what your family members tell you, you are not a natural hustler. You're a natural Nick Wilde, the best cop and greatest partner a bunny could ask for."

There it was again, that wonderful smile she loved so much. And in his eyes was this… look, that somehow made his gaze both darker and brighter at the same time. It reminded Judy of when she still lived in Bunnyburrow, on the nights when the moon was just a sliver in the sky and she couldn't see the whiskers in front of her face as she struggled to walk home after a long day of selling produce at her family's fruit and vegetable stand. Every once in a great while, she would look up, and there in the sky would be a shooting star. And not just any shooting star, but one of those exceptionally bright ones that would light up the fields and meadows as it swept across the sky. And for the briefest moment she would be able to see all the way to her house, high up on the far hilltop, and she would know: There. That's the way home.

Maybe some of that memory showed in her eyes, because Nick's hold on her tightened, drawing her more fully against him, and Judy flicked her tail nervously as he leaned in close, his nose brushing against the fur of her throat. Not quite a nuzzle, but so close, and Judy tipped her head back in thoughtless invitation. If only she could make a wish on his eyes like she could on a star.

"Are you conning me right now, Carrots?" Nick's voice was low and rough. Judy's paws curled into the fabric of his shirt. She shook her head, unable to find her voice, and Nick growled softly, the vibration of it making her tremble.

"Then why do I feel like I'm being hustled?"

"Who is… hustling who here?" managed Judy, and felt him smile into her fur.

"Who, indeed."

Judy bit her lip. Her partner had always been very tactile—and whether that was a fox thing or a Nick thing, she couldn't say for sure—but this went beyond his usual teasing. She had never seen him in this kind of mood before. Was it just because of what had happened with Mrs. Cluckington earlier? Or could it be something else?

Judy knew she should pull away. They were friends. Partners. And if Nick realized just how much this playing around was affecting her, it could ruin their whole relationship.

But to finally be in Nick's arms like this, like he never wanted to let her go… even if it was only innocent teasing on his part, for Judy it was a moment she had been dreaming about for months. And once it was over, who knew if he would ever hold her this way again?

I wish...

"Judy, I…"

"Judy Hopps?" The smooth male voice was like a bucket of ice water. Judy and Nick sprang apart. Judy flailing for a casual pose, Nick coughing and scrubbing at his nose. Both looking everywhere but at each other.

A furry paw was extended toward Judy and she took it automatically, making a quick sweep of the animal in front of her as she did so: Bunny, early thirties, with fawn colored fur and an expensive gray suit, perfectly tailored. She couldn't help noticing that he had an impressive pair of ears. They made him almost as tall as Nick. Her sisters would have gone gaga over those ears.

"I'm sorry, have we met?"

His shake was less an actual shake and more a gentle squeeze. After a moment, he released her and stepped back. "Benjamin Cottontail, Miss Hopps. I'm hoping you can help me."

"Cottontail? Why does that name sound familiar?"

She looked over at Nick, who had recovered from his coughing fit and seemed back to his normal self, more or less. At her question, he sighed and shook his head in mock shame. "Still such a country bunny. Cottontail is one of the biggest produce suppliers in Zootopia. They've made the top ten list of Scaly Magazine's thirty most powerful companies five years in a row."

"Please," said Cottontail. "We don't set much score by lists like that. Truth is, we're still a small family company at heart."

"A family company that made over two billion dollars last year alone," said Nick.

"You've certainly done your research."

"You could say I used to be a bit of an entrepreneur."

Cottontail's mouth quirked. "I see."

Judy tapped her chin. "Cottontail… Cottontail… Oh! I remember you now. Your face is on my bag of carrots."

Nick smothered a laugh. Poorly. Cottontail looked chagrined. "Ah. That was an advertising idea I was pressured into by my investors. They thought it would boost sales if customers could put a face to the brand name."

A face like his, Judy could see why. It was hard for a bunny not to get a least a few folds and rolls here and there. Their bodies were predisposed to it. It took a lot of exercise to maintain a sleek figure. Even Judy couldn't completely get rid of the chubbiness in her cheeks, and she ran several miles every day. But Cottontail was all lean muscle, the epitome of a physically fit bunny.

He must spend a fortune at the gym.

"Sounds like you have some smart investors," said Judy, and Cottontail smiled at the compliment.

Nick rolled his eyes.

"Ah, but you said you needed some help?" Judy scanned the room, but nothing jumped out at her as needing immediate police attention. The slow song had finally ended, and as a faster beat took its place animals started crowding past them, eager to return to the dance floor.

"Oh, it's nothing like that," he hurried to clarify at Judy's look around. "But if I could steal a moment of your time, Miss Hopps? It is Miss, isn't it? Not Mrs.?"

"It's Officer Hopps, actually," corrected Nick before Judy could answer. "And we're off duty right now. So unless this is an emergency, which you already stated it isn't, you can take your case to the ZPD and they can help you out there."

"Nick," hissed Judy. "Don't be rude."

"No, he's right," said Cottontail. "And I would do that. Trust me, I'm not looking for special treatment here or anything. But the issue is a bit sensitive in nature. I rather not publicize it any more then necessary." He looked at Judy, golden eyes beseeching. "You of all animals should understand when I say that as a bunny, one mistake is all it takes for society to declare you incompetent at your job. I've worked hard to make my business a success, Officer Hopps. It would kill me for it to fall apart because of one bad article. "

Judy understood completely. "Of course. And we'd be more than happy to listen to whatever it is you have to tell us." She gave her partner a sharp nudge in the ribs. "Wouldn't we, Nick?"

The fox immediately slapped on a smile. It would have looked more believable if his teeth hadn't been gritted. "Of course we would. I'll get us some drinks."

"Just carrot juice for me," said Cottontail.

Nick's fake smile became even more strained. "One carrot juice, coming right up."

"If you'll follow me, Mr. Cottontail?" said Judy.

"Please, just Ben."

"Of course. This way." Judy led the way over to a corner booth across from the bar and gestured for him to sit, taking the side opposite and pulling out her carrot pen. When Nick returned with the drinks and slid into the booth beside her, she clicked on the recorder and looked expectantly at Cottontail. "Okay. Whenever you're ready."

The bunny nodded and took a deep breath. "Well, I want to start by apologizing for bothering you with this. It's hardly worth the effort of the great Judy Hopps."

Nick snorted into his drink. Judy glared at him.

"But I don't know who else I can turn to. I'd rather handle it myself, but frankly it's become a matter of safety. I'm concerned for my employees. The last incident we had, one of our security guards, Arnie, got hurt. He's a tough old armadillo who's not easy to get the jump on, but they managed it somehow."

"They, who?" asked Judy. "And what kind of incidents are these that we're talking about here?"

"Break-ins. At our main distribution factory. Two so far, but I'm worried they'll strike again if we don't do something soon."
"Why didn't you report it the first time?" asked Nick.

"As I said, we consider ourselves a family company. We like to keep our business our business, and the first time it happened no on was hurt. Just a broken window and some destruction of property. Nothing the company couldn't cover. And it's not like I can't sympathize."

"With the vandals?"

Cottontail nodded. "You see, the Cottontail Corporation has decided to branch out. Until now, we've only acted as distributors. We'd purchase vegetables from select farmers, then package and ship the food to the local stores. But now we're trying something a little bit different. We're about to release a new line of meals. All natural lunches and dinners using the same great vegetables customers know and love, but already prepared so there's virtually no work. Just pop it in the oven and you're done."

"Is that your tag line?" asked Nick.

Cottontail's laugh was self-deprecating. "Sorry. We've been shooting a lot of commercials lately. I might have memorized one too many scripts. Anyway, we anticipate that it'll be a huge success. That is, if we can stop these break-ins long enough to get the product out there. We've scheduled two shipments so far, and each time the break-ins have occurred the night before."

"And you believe that it's due to your new product?" asked Judy.

"I know that it is. It's the only thing they bother with. Everything else is left alone."

"You said you felt sympathetic towards them," said Nick. "Does that mean you know who's doing it?"

Cottontail nodded and took a sip of carrot juice. "Unfortunately. There's a small restaurant owned by a family of foxes over near one of the stores that stocks our products. The Corsacs. They cater to herbivores specifically. It's possible that our new meal line could have a negative impact on their sales. We think that's what's driving them to do this."

At the word foxes, Nick went stiff in his seat. Judy glanced at him, concerned. Cottontail noticed the reaction too. The bunny's expression and voice went soft as he continued. "As I said, the company understands. That's why we overlooked it the first time. I paid for all the ruined meals myself and rescheduled the shipping date for the following month. But then they came again, and this time they clawed up Arnie on top of destroying our supplies. We're worried what they might resort to the next time."

"Do you have any evidence it was them?" asked Nick.

"Besides Arnie's testimony? Yes, in fact. We had security cameras installed after the first break-in. We're sympathetic, Officer Wilde, not stupid. We caught them on tape fleeing the premises after the attack."

"Can you send us a copy of that video?" asked Judy.

"I can."

"We'll also need a list of all the foxes you think are involved, your contact information, and the name of the restaurant if you have it."

"Of course."

"You said Arnie is willing to give a statement?"

"He is."

"Then we will be in touch with you about that as well."

"Thank you, Officer."

Buzzing drew their attention to the front pocket of Cottontail's suit. With a quiet apology, he pulled out his phone and checked the screen. "I'm sorry, but I have to go."

"No problem, Mr. Cottontail," said Judy. "I think we have enough information for tonight."

"Please, it's Cottontail. And thank you. I'll be sure to have a courier send you the security footage and all the information you require first thing tomorrow morning." He hopped from the booth and bowed to both Judy and Nick, his ears remaining perfectly straight the entire time. Judy's nose twitched with jealousy. She could never get her ears to stay straight like that.

"Thank you for taking the time to listen," said Cottontail. "And… if there is any way you can show the foxes leniency, I hope that you do so."

"We'll do our best," said Judy. "Have a good night."

"And to you as well."

Judy waited until he had left the bar to look at Nick. "You okay?"

"Fine."

He certainly didn't sound fine. But then, it had been a stupid question on her part to begin with.

"So what do you think?"

"I think he's a privileged, lying sleaze ball and that speckled fur pattern of his is a total dye job."

"I meant about the case."

"Oh, that." Nick waved a careless paw, but his expression was hard. "I don't like it."

"You don't think the foxes did it?"

"I'm saying it doesn't makes sense that they did it. Foxes are clever, Carrots, and ruining a store's product is short term with no end goal. It clearly won't succeed forever. They have to know they'll eventually get caught and go to jail, so what's the point?"

"Desperation makes animals do reckless things sometimes," said Judy. "And they do have motive. Fear for their restaurant."

"And what kind of foxes serve food only herbivores would like, anyway?" demanded Nick. "Whatever Cottontail produces, it shouldn't be a threat to their business."

Judy shrugged. "Well apparently they are. And it is."

"But why?"

"I don't know. But we can look into it more tomorrow. Ready to go?"

Nick nodded and shoved away from the booth. Together they paid for their drinks, said goodbye to Clawhauser and the other officers, and headed out into the chilly night.

Judy shivered. Soon it would be as cold as Tundratown. She had heard that Sahara Square and the Rainforest District were having to work their giant weather conditioners twice as hard to keep the air hot and temperate, respectively. Only Savanna Central in Downtown Zootopia kept to the standard seasonal changes. But being surrounded by hot, tropical, and freezing landscapes did strange things with the weather. Like tonight. It was still fall, but a northern wind sweeping across Tundratown made it feel twice as cold in the main city.

Judy zipped up her coat and looked with concern over at Nick, who was hunched in only his shirtsleeves with his fists jammed into his pockets. But Judy suspected that his posture had more to do with his mood and less to do with the cooler temperature.

Together they headed for the tube station.

"This is really bothering you, isn't it?" said Judy when they had gone two blocks and Nick still hadn't spoken a word.

"The Cottontail Corporation already makes billions of dollars a year," he told her. "Why start a new line of products they don't need when they know it's going to hurt other businesses?"

"Capitalism is ruthless that way," said Judy. "You know that, Mr. Entrepreneur."

Nick was not amused by her attempt at teasing. "I've done a lot of things I'm not proud of, Carrots. But I've never ruined a family's entire business and then had them arrested for it."

"You say it like Mr. Cottontail made them break in and destroy his property." When Nick just continued to fume silently, Judy sighed. "Look. Legally, Mr. Cottontail can sell whatever product he wants to. Does it stink that it hurts the foxes' business? Yes, it does. A lot. And I feel for the foxes, too. You know I do. But they can't be allowed to go around breaking the law. Innocent animals are getting hurt now because of them."

"You don't know for sure yet that it was them."

"You're right, I don't," agreed Judy. "I hope it's not. But you need to prepare yourself. If they were caught on film… Nick—" Judy laid a paw on his arm, halting him. She could feel the tension running through the fox like electricity through a live wire. It worried her. He was usually better at shaking off this kind of thing.

"You can't get emotional about this," she warned him. "As much as you might not like it, we have to go by the evidence. And if the evidence shows—"

"I don't care what the evidence shows," Nick growled. "This whole thing stinks, and that bunny worst of all."

"Well you should care, because that stinky bunny is the one who came to us for help," Judy pointed out, feeling annoyed herself now. She couldn't help being reminded of the way Nick had been rubbing at his nose earlier. Had her smell offended him too? Did he think she smelled bad?

"He's worried about his employees. You can't blame him for that."

"Don't let the guy's concerned bigwig act fool you, Carrots. The only thing he cares about is his bottom line. He knows that if he went down to the station, it would be reported by the news, and then company stocks would take an unscheduled dip and ruin his sales."

"Maybe that's true. But doesn't he have the right to be worried about that? He's the victim here, Nick. And if you can't be objective about this then…"

"Then what?" he challenged. They were standing toe-to-toe, nearly as close as they had been while dancing, but Judy had never felt further away from him.

"Then maybe you need to sit this one out," she said.

Those beautiful green eyes widened in surprise and hurt for just a brief, painful moment before he yanked the emotions back. That carefully constructed mask of indifference that Judy hated so much came slamming down between them and he backed away from her until she either had to follow after him or let him go.

She let go.

"Fine," he said. "You don't want me working with you on this? Then go ahead. Investigate on your own. I'll look into Mr. Cottonbutt myself and prove to you that I'm right."

"That's not—" Judy tried to say, but Nick was already striding away from her, into the dark where the streetlights didn't reach, leaving a trail of small, white, downy feathers in his wake.

"Nick. Where are you going?"

But he didn't answer her, and Judy knew that even if she chased after him she wouldn't catch him, not tonight.

Stupid, stubborn fox.

Grumbling to herself, Judy spun on her heel and continued on to the tube station. She refused to feel guilty. Nick was the one who was being ridiculous and overreacting. The encounter with the roosters and hen had gotten him all riled up, and having to listen to Mr. Cottontail accuse a fox family had just been the one straw too many. By this time tomorrow, she told herself, Nick would have calmed down enough to realize how foolish he was being. He would apologize, and maybe she would too, and then they would move on and solve this case together, as they should be doing.

"And I do not stink," she grumbled as she stomped down the tube station's steps.

A skunk leaning against the handrail heard her and pumped his fist in solidarity. "You tell 'em, bunny. Smell is relative."