Harvest was always a busy time for the Hopps family. Even on a relatively small farm, even with over two hundred pairs of rabbit paws to work the earth. It was work from sun-up to until well after the sun went down. There were always bunnies scurrying up and down the rows, climbing up ladders to pluck apples and plums from the boughs of the orchard trees. Or they were hunkered down in the dirt, resigned to the fact that the dirt on the knees of their jeans was never going to wash out.

An ungodly amount of of carrots were pulled out of the ground, packed into crates to be shipped to grocery stores in the area, or even to Zootopia itself. This was the most important time of the year, where the family made most of their profit off all the work they had been doing as early as February that year. Everyone who wasn't working outside was indoors, preparing food and bringing out water for everyone bringing in the harvest. They needed to stay hydrated and hardworking, in order to break in the highest yield in the shortest amount of time.

And for the first time, there was a fox helping to bring in the harvest. Perhaps it should have been something to be commented on, but he just fell in. There was no fanfare, and there didn't really need to be. Nick had found his place in the workings of the farm. He woke up every day in the farmhouse, relegated to a guest room that was usually reserved for her grandparents. Then he would join Judy for quick breakfast every morning. They would go out to the fields and work until there was absolutely no light to work by. Nick was in his tatty tee shirts and, scarily enough, cargo shorts, pulling up kale out of the ground and sticking shreds of it in his mouth when he thought no one was looking at him. Then making faces, when he realized kale was kind of disgusting. He kept eating it, anyway.

Judy hardly had time with the fox, but it wasn't because her parents were attempting to keep him away. They were fully delivering on their promise to let her pursue her happiness. She could spend all her time with Nick now, but there was too much work to do to take advantage of were so busy, it was hard to even find time to eat during the day, forget about spending time with other mammals.

Every day she woke up, threw on clothes she was okay with getting filthy in, and helped bring the crops in. Swallowed down food quickly, quick enough that she could hardly taste it, helped bring the cops in, went to bed. Dreamt about bringing the crops in. Judy wondered if her siblings had always felt like this during harvest season. Crops on the brain, calculating the highest yield in her head when she should have just been counting sheep. It was distracting and time consuming, but suddenly that wasn't appealing anymore. She wanted to be doing something else.

It was easier when she was growing up on the farm, when she wasn't expected to actually do farm work. Her parents had always told her to not dream so much, but they still encouraged her in their own little way. They did not outright tell her to go out and try to become a police officer, but they threw her a bone every now and then.

She had been allowed to sit in the house, reading up on application processes, preparing herself for the college degree she was the first in her family to get, instead of being out in the sun all day. Her mom let her sit in the big kitchen to look over her textbooks, rather than squat in the dirt outside and pull up radishes. Judy could go on her runs in the mornings, do her pushups, and refresh the computer in the Sheeran sister's restaurant obsessively to see the response to her application to the Academy instead of joining her family outside. She was allowed to pursue her dreams while her siblings brought in the yield. But she was not spared from the work anymore. Judy was in the fields with the best of them.

She was wearing a baseball cap, and overalls. She looked uncomfortably like her dad in the getup. She was wiping dirt from her gloves onto her forehead, wishing she was somewhere else entirely. It wasn't as muggy as it was a month before, but it was still fairly hot. Miserable. Judy was exceedingly grateful once all the yield was brought in, when the fields were finally empty. No more crops, no more bunnies ducking between rows and squatting to dig potatoes out of the ground.

Just a bunch of sad looking stalks that still stood in their corn plot. A few large-ish pumpkins growing out by the house, as well. Potential candidates for biggest pumpkin at the upcoming county fair, the Harvest Days Festival. Most everything was stripped of its fruit, dead looking and scraggly. The trees in the orchard, as well as the few growing in between fields, were well on their way to having their leaves change. Her garden was still thriving, though only until frost started setting in within the next few weeks, once the rest of October rolled in.

Nick's gardening gloves weren't brand new, anymore. They had been stiff on his paws when they had first gone into town to get them, a terse and silent car ride there and back. But things were different now. They were well worn, covered in dirt, though not from lack of washing. The pair was at that point where no amount of dunks under the faucet would make them clean again. He didn't mind. He looked more comfortable with them now, and didn't even look disgusted when he dug his paws into the dirt, combing through it to look for grubs that would nibble on her herbs.

"You know," Judy said, smiling at him over her rosemary. Her hand was on her trowel, but Nick was much more interesting than gardening. "I think you would make a pretty good farmer."

"Ugh." He was wearing his sunglasses, but she knew the look he was giving her. "How dare you?"

Laughing, she reached forward to clasp his arm. He didn't wrinkle his snout at the dirt on his fur, but he still knocked away her paw. He had important work to do, looking for those grubs. It was like they had switched places. Judy had been obsessed with this little plot, but now she could easily be pulled away from it. She wanted to hear what Nick had to say.

"Just stating my opinion." She spread her paws, waving her trowel through the air. She decided to compliment him. "Of course, my opinion can often be translated into fact. I once told you you would make a good cop, and I was definitely right about that. I'm rarely wrong."

"Pfft." His fingers pinched something out of the soil, and he put it in a cup next to him. Weevils were disgusting things, and Judy was glad Nick had volunteered to get them, leaving her to mess around in the dirt and listen to every word that came out of his mouth. "I don't think so. You also thought practicing your disappearing act on me was a good idea, Carrots."

That particular barb hardly stung anymore. Some time had passed, and Judy found it did not bother her as much as it did in May. It was early October, and she was okay. She saw that Nick was just teasing her, and that he was not necessarily angry with her. It was like before, when he would tease her just to see her tap her feet or twitch her nose in irritation. She bore the jab well, bowing her head in defeat. "Okay, okay. You got me there."

"And, besides," he said. "You were always the better cop."

She rubbed the handle of her trowel, distractedly. "If you say so."

"I know so," Nick told her.

Judy looked up at him, and caught him looking at her as well. The dirt and the crawlies living in it were not as interesting as her, it seemed. There was something in the air between them that wasn't there before, at the mention of their past. Judy had to address it. The thought had been on her mind for a few weeks, something slight and vaguely threatening on the horizon. "Do you ever think about going back?" She asked quietly.

"All the time," he answered easily, honestly. "But you're here, so here's where I'll stay."

"I think about going back, too," she said. Judy spoke like she was in confession, hushed and slightly embarrassed. Like she had something to be ashamed of. If Nick was surprised at her words, he didn't show it. He just smiled, raised his eyebrows, and turned back to the pests.

"Take your time," was what he said. They worked quietly for a few minutes, both stuck inside their own heads. Judy had her trowel in her paw, but she did nothing with it. After a while, Nick looked up from his little patch of dirt. "What will happen to all these plants?"

Judy was taken aback, his mention of leaving so soon. Hadn't he been telling her that he would be staying here? No matter what, is what he had said. She blinked slowly, the idea terrifying and exhilarating all at once. "When we leave?"

"What? No! When the frosts set in. Addie was telling me about it."

"You talk to Addie?"

"Oh yeah, sometimes. Can you imagine if you were the only mammal I talked to while I was here? Now, that's a scary thought." He grinned at her expression. She was glaring daggers at him beautifully. Nick did not see a threat in it, though. "Anyway, the seasons don't really change in Zootopia, since the climate is all artificially generated. And that's all I've ever known. So, what do we do with all your plants once it gets cold? Do we just let them die?"

"No, they won't die in the cold. They'll just go to sleep for a while."

He raised an eyebrow. "They aren't animals, Carrots. They can't sleep."

"They can sleep! Or we can repot them, stick them in a window sill for the winter."

Judy thought about what it would be like to stay the winter in Bunnyburrow. It was always cold and dreary. They got three or four big snows a season. It all inevitably melted and made it hell to get around, on slushy roads in an old truck that wasn't even considered new when she was born. A lot of times, it would just rain. Not cold enough for it to be snow, but cold enough for it to be miserable. Cold enough that there would be no way for her and Nick to retreat to the threshing floor to get away from it all. It was drafty in the summer, and freezing in the winter. So there Judy would be, trapped inside with her big family.

There would be no privacy. Her parents were being extremely lenient with her and Nick, but they would have limits. Even if Judy was an adult, she was living under their roof, eating their food, raising their water bill. She would have to respect their decision, no matter how tough it was to follow. There would be no hanging around in Nick's room the whole season. It was one of the rooms with actual privacy in the Hopps farmhouse/burrow. Intended for visiting relations, particularly her grandparents. But they never visited, saying the farm was too busy for them in their old age. Yet, they wouldn't notice it was busy, in their room.

There was only one bed, and a window that looked out towards the front drive and Judy's garden. Old quilts folded and placed on every available surface, and an overwhelming amount of photos hanging from the walls. There was a door that locked, and heavy, floral curtains that could be drawn over the windows. So, of course, Judy would not be allowed to sit in there alone with Nick. With the door closed, who knew what they would get up to! Judy never did more than hold his paw, and Nick had not kissed her since he had pecked the top of her head on the train platform almost a month and a half ago. It was pointless to convince her parents otherwise, and Judy firmly believed that they would be saying the exact same thing if Nick was just any old bunny. They thought of her as their little girl, and so the door would stay open.

She had left Zootopia to be with her family, in a setting that was completely untouched by the stain of her police work. For a while, Judy was happy with that. Farm work was distracting and tiring, and it did a good job at driving away her thoughts of self-loathing and guilt. It was hard to have nightmares when you were too tired to dream. You stopped seeing blood on your hands when they were covered in dirt instead. So much had happened since she first stepped off the train into Bunnyburrow six months ago, and she was starting to feel unsatisfied with everything that was going on around her. It wasn't enough. She was restless, and it had all crept upon her very quickly. She didn't know how it happened, but Judy found herself daydreaming about bigger things, bigger places. Always with Nick at her side. The farm had given her her first happy moments in almost a year, but now it couldn't even capture her attention for more than two minutes.

Disconcerting thoughts were running through her head. Luckily, Bunnyburrow had a lot going on in October. It distracted her from big issues. Instead, she was concerned with how delicious she could get her blueberry crumble, or thinking obsessively over what design she would paint on her potato. You see, it wasn't about artistic expression. It was mostly about winning, and getting a huge ribbon for her work.

She wasn't the only one worrying about these inane things. Some of her family were worrying about things even less significant. Addie was in a conniption over the variance of flavor between two jars of her rhubarb jam. She had given up on deciding which of her apricot was best: one jar was sitting resignedly on the kitchen counter, victor only because Davie had picked it out once Addie looked like she was about to cry over it. Davie himself swore that he was submitting a masterpiece in basket weaving, a statement which he had yet to follow up on. Bonnie was doing needlepoint, and Lee had been slaving over dress designs ever since last October, creating the costumes for a play. Judy fully believed that if she went outside around midnight, she could find her dad whispering lovingly to his pumpkins, trying to get them to grow larger and larger.

The Harvest Days Festival was only two weeks away, and submissions for all the competitions were due in one week. The Hopps family was scrambling, trying to get everything done in time. It was all serious business. First prize in any competition meant bragging rights, and the choice over what was going to be had for dinner. In a family as large as the Hoppses, there could be many first place winners, but that did not take the glamour off the prospect of a win. The minimal cash prize was also a nice thought, even if there wasn't much to spend it on in Bunnyburrow, even if the most you could get was no more than seventy-five bucks. It was serious business. Almost every pair of paws was working hard to create something worthy of a blue ribbon.

Even Nick wasn't immune. Despite his bad experience in town at the farmer's market, he was pretty eager about it all. Once someone had filled him in on what the Harvest Days Festival, he decided he would enter something as well. Nick could be competitive if he wanted to, Judy even more so. She hoped he would enter the same competition as her, if only so she could come out on top. But Nick just couldn't decide what he should enter in the fair. There were a lot of competitions to choose from. Photography, crocheting, even making things out of duct tape— there was a dizzying array of options.

"You better decide soon," said her dad, over a bucket of peeled potatoes one night. Nick had been on the farm for so long that Stu could meet his eyes without grimacing. She was proud of her parents for their baby steps. They would understand, some day. Nick was helping her dad prepare dinner, knife in hand, a pile of potatoes at his feet. Judy was seated on the counter, pretending to be useful. Occasionally, she would duck down to pick a stray peel off the floor, to be put in the compost pile later. That was about all she did. "Only four days until entries are due."

"I think he should sing a song," said Judy nonchalantly. Nick could glare daggers, too.

Stu looked delighted over his half-peeled potato. "Nick can sing? You could be in Lee's stage play!" Judy tried not to look as delighted as her father. The fact that he could even mention something about Nick spending time with his children made her want to break out into song herself.

"I can't sing," said Nick. "Don't believe a word your daughter says."

"Go on, sing a few bars for us!" Stu was gesturing wildly with his potato peeler.

"No, no."

Lee, whose hearing was shockingly good, called out from across the kitchen. "Maybe Nick could submit a picture." She waggled her eyebrows at Judy. Judy crossed her arms and tried her best to look unimpressed. Yet it was still a good time to make fun of Nick.

"Nick likes all those oldies you do, Dad," Judy said. "He's got this huge cassette collection and everything."

"What? He's not old enough for that! Are you, son?"

Nick was trying hard not to smile, she could tell. He still protested to the teasing, though. It was a matter of principle. "I think I'll paint a potato," he said loudly. As he spoke, he tossed a long spiral of potato skin behind him, nailing Judy in the eye. It was good aim, for him not even looking back at her. However, she preferred to think it was just a lucky throw. Through a one-eyed glare, she was disappointed, yet extremely happy, to see her dad laughing at Nick's antics. They were all trying to get along, and it was a beautiful sight. Her eye stung, but she still found herself grinning widely.

Even Bonnie was putting forth effort to include the fox she had once tried so hard to exclude and keep far away from Judy. When her mom wasn't putting the finishing touches on her elaborate needlepoint, she was bent over the kitchen table with Nick, whispering with him and gesturing at a piece of paper. Whenever Judy got close, she leaned even further over the sheet, not allowing her daughter a single glance at the, presumably, potato design. They looked thick as thieves, working out their thoughts over the notebook paper. Bonnie had not even offered to help with Judy's potato.

"It's a good one," her mom told her, as they were washing dishes one night. Washing dishes at their house was a mammoth task, and they managed it with several sinks, an elaborate assembly line, and a terrifying amount of dish towels. Judy and Bonnie were both toweling off the dishes, making sure no food was still stuck on them and putting them in their proper slots in their proper cabinets. Judy hit her mom's arm with her towel. It didn't actually hurt her, but it made a satisfying noise as it knocked against her. Bonnie rolled her eyes, unimpressed. "I think it might even be a winner."

Judy scoffed. She was overdramatic in all her gestures. She was spending too much time with Nick. Or maybe she was destined to be in Lee's play. She talked in her best impression of her younger sister. "Yeah, okay. I guess my potato doesn't even matter! Don't even help your own daughter. Gosh!"

She expected laughter, or at least a snort at her statement. Judy thought she could be funny sometimes, and this was definitely one of those times. Her mother, apparently, did not feel the same way. Bonnie was suddenly very quiet next to her. Motionless, too. It was like she was petrified. A bunny in the headlights, if you will. Judy wondered if she said something wrong, but before she could ask, her mom finally spoke. She spoke like the words were hard to get out, haltingly and quiet. Judy still heard them. "I just thought it would be nice to sit down and spend some time with your… boyfriend."

Judy would have said that Nick wasn't her boyfriend. That they didn't do anything unseemly, that he was too respectful of her parent's wishes and her own to do more besides kiss the top of her head, or put his arm around her waist. But there was so much softness in her mom's eyes, so much understanding, that Judy forgot about all that. There was a lump in her throat that hadn't been there a second ago. "Oh, Mom!" she cried, throwing her arms around Bonnie, hugging her tightly. Her mom shouted, for good reason too. There was a wet dish towel clutched in Judy's paw, and it was dripping cold, sudsy water down the back of her shirt. It was certainly surprising, but she got over it quickly, hugging her daughter back. "Thank you," Judy said.

Bonnie spoke into her daughter's neck. "I won't say that I'm completely comfortable with it."

"Mom—"

"I wasn't finished, Judy. I'm not completely comfortable with it, because I'm scared of how other mammals will feel about your feelings for Nick."

"I'm prepared for it."

"I know you're strong. You're the strongest mammal I know." Bonnie pulled away from Judy, holding her at arm's length. The understanding in her eyes— the same color of blue-violet that Judy saw whenever she looked into the mirror— was still there, and she wasn't even sure what it was for. For Nick? Or maybe her mom always guessed why Judy had come home. Her mom was not totally ignorant. She read the newspapers, she would have seen the articles about Starkey, the less gory pictures of Poppy Glenn that the press got a hold of. Maybe Bonnie understood it all, from the very start. Why her daughter had come home, and why she had been so broken. Or perhaps Bonnie was just thinking about Nick. Judy would never know. "You are strong, but there are cruel mammals in this world that will try to break you. Remember that."

"I will."

"And remember that I'll always be here, no matter what other mammals say. No matter how they try to tear you down."

Her eyes were very wet. "Thanks, mom," she said. Judy could feel her siblings' eyes on her back, and she didn't even care.

The days before the Harvest Days Festival passed quickly. There was covert potato painting, out of Nick's eye and earshot. Bonnie said Nick's design was a winner, but Judy was pretty confident about hers. There was experimenting with her blueberry crumble, in which there was no way she could ever avoid Nick. He was consistently over her shoulder, popping blueberries into his mouth, sticking his finger into her dough so he could have a taste, and generally making a nuisance of himself. He got many a slap on the paw. They spent time in his bedroom, with the door open of course, laying on the floor and talking about nothing in particular. Judy did not talk about her plans, and Nick didn't talk about his, either.

The weather was temperate enough now to just lay outside during the daylight hours. The grass in the backyard was in the process of dying a slow death, and was crunchy and unpleasant underfoot. But it was nice enough if Judy laid out a thick blanket first. And then there were lazy days under the autumn sun, Nick's back against her front, curled up together. Sometimes she would bring her phone and earbuds, and they would just waste hours like that. Nick learned to love Gazelle, and she learned to tolerate his new wave nonsense.

They hadn't ever been this close. Not even before Starkey. Not the week before Judy had left, when she had tried her best to be affectionate and loving with Nick. Not even immediately after their uncovering of the Bellwether plot, when they had something between them which Clawhauser affectionately called the "honeymoon period". Judy had never been comfortable enough to wrap her arms around Nick's middle and pull him closer, to nose at the ruff of fur around his neck. Now she was. She never would have dared to snatch the sunglasses off his snout, just to see his dopey grin in response, an expression which could only be described as "lovestruck". Now she was more than confident enough to slide the shades off of him while he was dozing, keeping the overlarge frames on her face until he was awake enough to realize that the sun was starting to sting at his eyes. Instead of being uncomfortable at that show of affection, Nick would scrunch up his snout at her, take the shades back, and snuggle up closer to her. Bliss.

The days were not separate or regimented. Since the yield was all in, Judy had nothing better to do than sit with Nick, or lay with Nick, or squat in her garden and think. When she thought, it was all worrying.

Judy had built up this life for herself, and it didn't feel like it was enough anymore. There was nothing fulfilling about her garden, though it was doing remarkably well in the rapidly cooling weather. She would never say it, but quiet nights with Addie in their little pantry weren't enjoyable anymore. She couldn't keep her eyes on her books, and the clicking of her sister's needles distracted her constantly. Interestingly enough, she was getting along better with Lee. This was because Lee wanted to know all about Nick, and she was willing to do Judy's makeup in exchange for information. And Judy was very willing to talk about Nick now. Bonnie had called him her boyfriend, and it was like the floodgates had opened. If everyone thought of him that way, why shouldn't she let herself feel that way too? She allowed herself to babble and get her eyeliner drawn on.

Still, none of it was fulfilling anymore. There was momentary feelings of accomplishment after cleaning under her bed, or helping Nick dust his room. Sometimes when she helped her dad cook a meal, she felt good about staying. But that feeling quickly fled, and she was left wanting more. And it was scary to think about where she could go, and find that more she was searching for. She knew the answer, but it was terrifying to even mention it. There were bad memories, and people there who might still hate her for leaving, or blame her for what had happened to Poppy Glenn. But Judy Hopps was still Judy Hopps, and she yearned to make the world a better place.

She had done a decent job of healing out in Bunnyburrow, and sometimes she felt that she could move onto the rest of the world. Give the whole hero thing another try, a better try. The thought of Zootopia and leaving was always lingering somewhere in the back of her head. A tempting offer, and a transition she could probably weather with Nick at her side. She knew he would follow her, and that was why she allowed herself to dwell on the thought occasionally. It was very appealing, at times.

Judy loved her family, but it was like when she left them for the first time: there was opportunity further along. Two hundred and eleven miles away, to be exact. Her parents and her siblings would always hold a place in her heart, but Judy was a dreamer. It wasn't in her nature to stay in a place that never changed, that never gave her an opportunity to feel extensively, and to use that for the greater good. Carrots wouldn't do that, not for Judy. She didn't need to make any decisions soon, though. There was time, all the time in the world.

Judy could actually plan it all out this time, and not run off, doing everything recklessly. She could plan what she would say to Bogo, to beg for her job back. And she could lay out other options for herself. It hurt to give up her dream, even though she had done it willingly, but there were other paths to making the world a better place for all mammals. She had her BA in Criminal Justice, and she could go anywhere from there. She could go into local government, improve Zootopia through campaigns and speeches. She could take out loans, take the time to get a law degree. The court system had failed her, with the Starkey case. Judy could make it work for her. No matter what she did, she could have Nick as her supporting system. And she could be his, for whatever he did next.

They had all been looking forward to the Harvest Days Festival, but it kind of snuck up on Judy. She was so preoccupied with her own thoughts, so caught up with what she had with Nick that she was surprised when Davie knocked on her head with his fist one morning to wake her up. She was especially groggy, having stayed up late with Nick the night before. There was an important conversation about the true meaning behind Gazelle's masterpiece, "Let It Goat", that she couldn't have possibly passed up. Before she could notice she was tired, it was three in the morning, and Nick had driven her out of his room, not wanting to risk a confrontation with her parents. She had dragged her tail down into the burrows, to her room. She had stumbled on a few things on her way in, making a good bit of noise. That was probably why Davie had been waking her up so rudely. He really liked his beauty sleep.

"Wake up," he said, frowning down at her. Her big brother had a face for smiling, his whole litter did. That was why Addie was so kind natured, it just seemed fundamentally impossible to make her frown. Davie looked funny when he frowned, and Judy had to resist a snort as he tapped his foot impatiently.

"What time is it?" She asked, solemnly. Straight faced. If she spoke any other way, she might have started laughing. Davie wouldn't appreciate that, not at all.

"Fair starts in, like, thirty minutes. Mom told me I should let you sleep, but your boyfriend looked pitiful. And so I took pity on him."

Judy smiled at his description of Nick, but still told him, "Not my boyfriend!" He clearly didn't believe her. He just blew out a big gust of air, pivoted on his foot, and started walking out of the burrowed room. "Can't wait to see your basket!" She called. Davie didn't respond. Bunnies didn't need that much sleep, Judy thought he had no rights to be so grumpy. All the men in her life were so dramatic.

She pulled on the first clean shirt she saw, and frowned as she pulled on a pair of jeans that didn't have too much dirt on their seat. She owned too much plaid. Even Nick wasn't immune to the allures of it: she had spotted two or three folded up shirts in his suitcases. He still hadn't unpacked them fully. Judy idly wondered if this meant anything as she buttoned up her flannel. Then she sprinted out of her room, up the tunnel, and into the house. She didn't want to get left behind. She also wanted to test if she could still do it, if she was as fast as she was before she came to Bunnyburrow. She was, though she was certainly less attentive. She didn't barrel into Nick, but it was a close thing. He grabbed her shoulders with strong paws, stopping her from pitching forward.

He didn't comment on her running. "Ready?" He asked. She nodded. It didn't make much sense to be in a hurry. The Hoppses always said they would spend a few hours at the Harvest Days Festival, and that was it. But they always ended up spending a longer time there the first time, and several bunnies always made their way back two or three times after the excursion. And of course, they had a fruit stand erected at the Festival. Luckily, Nick and Judy had been exempt from running that, so they would be able to have plenty of fun instead of working the whole time. Judy and Nick hurried outside. It was a good idea to be early for the Harvest Days, even if Judy knew she would end up going at least four times. For a rural community, Bunnyburrow still had a very large population, and there was no telling how busy the fair would get.

There was no way for the whole Hopps family to ride in one truck, so most everyone who was going was walking to the event. Fortunately, Nick, amongst all his tinkering and skulking about around the threshing floor, had found an old bicycle which he had fixed up. It was an ugly shade of orange, with a banana seat and high handlebars. Addie had been its primary user, riding it to close neighbors' houses and offering them her failed batches of jam, or at least, failed in her eyes. They were still good, of course, and if she left home with a full basket of apricot jam, she would always come home with an empty basket. Addie had left for the fair an hour earlier, since she was working the produce stand opening day, so Nick had free reign over his project. Judy was grateful. She was certainly capable of walking all the way into town, but a bicycle would make it quicker, and her feet wouldn't ache as badly at the end of the day.

Judy tossed her leg over the side of the bike, and situated herself on the bike seat.

"Where am I supposed to sit?" Nick asked. He shook his head. "This is my creation, Carrots." Judy patted her lap invitingly, but Nick wasn't having any of that. "Get your paws off the handles," he said, knocking them off as he said it. He clambered up onto the handlebars, with no small amount of difficulty. He made sure he was seated safely, cleared his throat, then said imperiously, "Ride!"

Never let it be said that Judy Hopps was bad at following orders. She took off, perhaps faster than Nick expected. He grabbed onto the handlebars tightly, and made a noise which was a little bit like a choked off screech. Judy laughed. The roads weren't smooth in Bunnyburrow, but they weren't overly rough. There were a few bumps as she sped towards town, and Nick made a distressed noise every time the bike rockeed, or Judy blinked. He kept his eyes on her the whole time. It was distracting, but she still kept her gaze ahead.

"I won't let you fall," she told him. He grimaced, but nodded, understanding. He still clung grimly to the handlebars, and squeezed his eyes tightly shut every time he was jarred the slightest bit from his perch. He also let out little peeps, yells that he was attempting to keep inside. She thought he was brave, for staying on and not telling her to stop. But he was also a bit of a wuss.

The fair was already astonishingly busy when Judy and Nick arrived. The fox climbed shakily off the handlebars, then breathlessly let the bunny know that he would never be doing that again. She laughed at him, but turned her face away from him so he wouldn't see her outright amusement. He would just hear it. She got off the bike herself, wrapped one arm around his waist, used the other to guide the bike forward as they walked. She would park it behind their produce stand, and Addie could keep watch over it as long as they stayed. Nick tried to shrug out of her grasp as they approached the crowds, but she kept her paw right on him.

"Let them look," she said to him.

"Are you willing to put up with all this?" Nick asked quietly, motioning at the mass of farming animals all around. They were giving them some strange looks. Two city slickers, one dressed in old flannel like she belonged. Pushing a disgustingly orange bike, arm in arm. A fox and a bunny. Judy knew Nick was thinking of their last experience with this crowd, how she had tried to drive him away immediately after. That wouldn't happen again. She pulled him closer.

"For you? Anything."

Nick laughed. "Ew," he said. He was smiling widely, apparently ready for Judy to show him off to the rest of town. They had come a long way. He let Judy tote him along, to where Addie and a few of her younger siblings were running the produce stand. Judy's older sister nodded in greeting, too busy to talk, very involved in a bargaining match with a forceful sheep. She looked up and down at Judy, and smiled slightly at what she saw. She nodded again, as if to say, 'Keep it up'. Judy quickly handed off the bike to two of her younger brothers, who immediately began squabbling over it. She walked back over to Nick, put her paws on her hips.

"What do you want to do first?" she asked him.

"I've never been to one of these things," Nick said. "You'll have to show me around."

She did her best. It was a relatively small fair, nothing compared to the one you could find in Deerbuck County, or further out west. There weren't even rides, not a ferris wheel or anything. But they made do. They walked through all the games. Nick was spectacularly bad at balloon darts. Judy did much better than him, not that it was a competition, and won him a large carrot. It was very satisfying that he had to tote the big thing around for the rest of the day.

"Can't we drop it off with Addie?"

"And have my little brothers destroy it?" Judy brought up a paw to her chest, faking hurt. "My gift?"

He grumbled, but he kept the unwieldy thing under his arm. They messed around with basketballs, and went over to the dunk tank. The pair of them quickly decided that the tank was rigged. Judy had a strong arm, stronger than Nick's, and she couldn't get the target to even move. Most definitely rigged. They ate heavily salted popcorn, and gnawed on a candy apple together. At Nick's insistence, she purchased a bag of blue cotton candy, which stuck disgustingly to the fur on her paws. He was happy enough eating it, though. They didn't have the type of fair to have deep fried everything, which is what Nick automatically associated with a county fair. He was sadly disappointed when she told him no, he could not have a deep fried candy bar. Nick was impressed, surprisingly, with the large vegetables all lined up behind Woodlands Elementary, each with a ribbon taped to it.

"I've never seen anything so big!" He said, excitingly. "Look at the size of that thing."

"Are you really that impressed? Nick, we work with elephants."

"It's still so big! Where's your dad's?"

"Looks like his wasn't big enough to get shown."

Nick frowned. He seemed strangely concerned for her father's pumpkin. "He was so excited about it, though."

"That's his fault, for growing them part way in the shade. It's a shame, but he'll do better next year."

"A shame," Nick repeated. "You know, I like your dad, Carrots."

She snorted. "Really?"

"He's a little goofy, sure. But he's a good guy."

"I'm sure he would appreciate that. While we're on the subject, how do you feel about my mom?"

"I don't think she likes me very much."

Judy shook her head slowly, recalling an embrace with her mother, sudsy paws dripping water all down her back. "You might be surprised, Nick."

"Huh." That was all he said.

"Yep." Judy put a hand on her hip, and shook her head again, this time at the gourd in front of her. It sounded like Nick wanted a subject change. "This isn't even the biggest pumpkin I've seen. The Pfeffers grew one twice this size the year before I left for the Academy."

He stared at the pumpkin in front of him, shaking his head with disbelief. They spent a lot of time walking through the hallways and classrooms of Woodlands Elementary. School things like multiplication tables and babyish weather charts were pinned up on the walls, barely covered with sheets decorated with smiling carrots and horns of plenty. The school was let out early on Thursday, and would be utilized by the Festival for the long weekend. It was one of the biggest buildings in Bunnyburrow, so it was as good a place as any to set up the exhibition. Judy and Nick spent a long time looking at all the crafty things that had been submitted for judging.

There were a few items with first place ribbons attached, name tags reading "Hopps" stuck to the side or in front of the object. Bonnie's needlepoint, which depicted a tangle of wildflowers under the shade of a tree. A can of Addie's rhubarb jam, half full after the judges were done with it. There were other prizes besides first. Not as impressive as a pretty blue ribbon, but still worth touching upon. Davie's "masterpiece" of a basket was functional, even if it wasn't beautiful. It earned itself a big, red second place ribbon. A finger painting by one of her littler siblings had won third. Disappointingly, Judy's blueberry crumble had only won an honorable mention. Nick patted her shoulder consolingly.

"Don't worry," he said. "I enjoyed it."

"I guess that's all that matters," Judy replied, only a touch sarcastically. She did value his opinion greatly. But she was a competitive creature, and also appreciated ribbons, cash prizes, and full bragging rights. Nick didn't move his paw from her shoulder.

Unfortunately, she had very good hearing. They were on the other side of the room, by an illustrated poster about the months of the year. A cruel conversation to be having in front of such a cheery display.

"Look at that. They aren't even trying to hide it!"

"She's got no shame."

A laugh. "Right? Who ever would have thought?"

"You know, June told me about it." She could imagine a smirk, tilting up the corners of an unpleasantly thin mouth. Small towns liked to talk, but this was ridiculous. At the farmer's market, Judy had never stood closer than two feet from Nick. What could that busybody of a pig possibly gotten from that? "I didn't want to believe it."

"I know! Little Miss Moral, with a pred of all things."

She turned her head a bit to get a look at the two mammals. She caught a glance: a bunny, light in coloring, and a squat pony. They were familiar, but she could not quite place their names. She had probably gone to high school with them, since they were calling her "Little Miss Moral" behind her back. That was a fun little nickname she had to deal with during her teenage years, from other girls who thought Judy was a little bit too preachy.

Though neither was trying very hard to keep their voices down, they still had not noticed that Judy had heard them. The duo continued on with their conversation, detailing just exactly what they thought about a bunny and a fox together. Sparing no detail about how and why they thought it was against nature, an abomination. Uncaring whether or not Judy and Nick heard, it seemed, nor the younger mammals that were milling about through the room. She was well aware that their thinking was very common, if not so snottily spoken. They were wrong, and ignorant, but it still smarted. Nick, once he heard the two, quickly dropped his paw from her shoulder.

"Don't pay them any mind," Judy said. Nick was standing stiffly, uncomfortable. She would fix that. She raised her eyebrows at Nick, first, a gesture that she hoped he would interpret well: she was going to make a scene. It would not change the bunny and the pony's view of them whatsoever, but it gave them an escape route other than walking out of the room shamefaced, with their eyes averted. It's not like the two would do anything at something like a public display of affection, she was sure. Nick understood, nodding quickly. He wanted out just as bad as she did. Then Judy spoke, and the other two mammals across the room stopped their gossiping. "Wanna get out of here?" She asked loudly, throwing an arm around his middle. They thought Judy and Nick together was obscene, and so Judy would make it seem that way. At least, as obscene as she was comfortable making it in a public place filled with children. When her parents might hear about it later.

"God, yes," he replied, somewhat throatier than necessary, but just the right amount of loud. He understood completely, and Judy had to suppress a fit of giggles at his tone. She grabbed his paw like it was a lifeline, holding it to her chest. Then, she looked across the room to where the offending bunny and pony were standing, mean looking with their paws and hooves on their hips. Kits and colts at their sides, and Judy was suddenly even more indignant. They were passing that sort of behavior down to their kids! She locked eyes with the two women, smiled most sardonically, and kissed the back of Nick's paw. She dragged the fox out of the room like she was on a mission, which was exactly what the wanted them to think. Let them talk, she thought savagely.

They tore out of the building together, and once firmly outside, dropped the ruse. Nick laughed loudly, dropping Judy's paw so that he could clap at her performance.

"Outstanding," he cried. "A phenomenal presentation!"

"Shh," Judy intoned, holding a finger over her mouth. He was continuing the scene she had started inside, when they didn't necessarily need that. She grabbed Nick's paw again so she could drag him away from the entrance to the school, drawing him into the shade on the side of the building. They were practically enclosed, school on her right, a tent erected on her left. It formed a little alleyway smelling strongly of peanuts, since that what was being sold in the tent. Nick leaned against the wall of the school, but let Judy keep a hold on his paw while he did it.

"What's gotten into you, Carrots?" He asked, amused.

She shrugged. "Just wanted to get out of there, I guess."

"Well, yeah. Duh." His thumb was rubbing idle patterns on the back of her paw as he watched her carefully. She wished she had a wall behind her as well, something to support her legs, which were feeling a little bit like jelly. "But there's something else. You've been acting a little different the past few weeks. What're you thinking about?"

"It doesn't matter." She rocked slowly on her feet, almost wishing she had a jacket. It was sort of cool in the shade of the school, even with her flannel on. They had been at the Festival for a while, and a chilly autumn evening was quickly approaching. Judy wondered if Nick would be adverse to her stepping closer for a little more warmth, and did just that. She rested her head on his chest. She also wondered if she could tell Nick what she had been thinking of. He had uprooted his life, just as she had, and with more personal loss. He wasn't the one who had completely given up on his life, he just followed someone who did. Judy was sure he would be averse to doing the same thing, no more than six months later.

"Hey, Carrots," he said, in a tone he probably thought was very convincing. She thought it could use some work. She loved the fox, but she still had some defenses up. It wouldn't be so easy to get her to reveal everything. "Judy. Tell me what you're thinking." He looked at her, did not break his gaze with hooded eyelids or sarcastically raised brows. He looked at her calmly, fully expecting that she would tell him what he wanted to know. Sure that she would deliver on her promise, and stop bottling everything up.

He was right, of course. She couldn't resist those green eyes. And she saw what had happened the last time she kept all her emotions inside. There was no benefit to it. "I want to go home."

"What, to the farmhouse?" He breathed out a shaky sigh, like he was expecting something much more dramatic to fall out of her mouth. He didn't know the full extent of it: the dramatics were on the way. "Let's go get the bike, then. You can ride on the handlebars this time."

She pulled herself away from him, stepping back from where she had had her head resting against his chest. "No, that's not what I mean." His thumb stopped its rubbing, and he was silent. Judy couldn't tell what he was thinking, even though his eyes were visible. But he had definitely caught something of her meaning. Shades off, folded over the collar of his tee shirt. She didn't even breathe, waiting to see what he would say. She didn't know if he was shocked, or disappointed, or sad. Eventually, she had to speak again, if only to break the terse silence. "Not now," she said. "It would take a lot of planning, a few weeks. Months. I think I'm ready."

"Are you sure?" Nick asked. It was a loaded statement. Of course Judy wasn't sure! There were so many things to think about, so many events and opportunities to compare. There were benefits to staying in Bunnyburrow, different ones for making the journey back to Zootopia. She had experienced horrible things in Zootopia, seen things that no mammal should ever see. Personally victimized by a twisted killer, stalked and tormented for months and months, no end in sight. She had never been further from those she loved, even though they were sitting in the passenger seat of her car, no more than a foot away. There was no help, no aid, no balm to ease the pain of what she had been through.

Yet while the city was all those things, it was also the symbol of all her hopes. It was a place where anyone could be anything, where she could really make the world a better place. She was willing to give it another shot.

Judy told Nick all this and more. She was ready to face the challenges of the city again. Prepared to sleep in a decrepit apartment, work her way up the rungs of whatever job she got. Of course, the goal was to be a police officer. That had always been the goal, but Bogo was not a buffalo who was quick to forgive. Judy told Nick all the half-thoughts she had had about her future in Zootopia. She would go to school, become a student-lawyer-city council member-social activist. Anything was possible. It was Zootopia, and she could be anything. She could find something like happiness. Be successful, something her parents would be proud of. Something that might justify what she had gone through, and what Poppy Glenn had once suffered.

She even spoke to Nick about her plans with him. Vague, fleeting dreams she was spinning into sentences. Sleep in a decrepit apartment with him at her side. Pursue success along with him, both of them shaping their world into a better form than it was when they found it. They would lend each other strength, get through the long nights and days together. They would not forget what had happened to them, between them, but that would just make them closer. The odds were stacked against them, but they wouldn't let the threat stand. They would face it and break it down, opening new opportunities and chances at a triumph. And maybe they could have a little window box, growing some herbs inside. The world was her oyster, she just had to put forth the effort to crack the thing open.

"So," she said, "what do you think?" She spread her paws, a little helplessly. She had no idea what the fox was going to say. She had thrown herself out there, all her thoughts and aspirations. She was his, and he could do with her what he pleased. With one statement, he could make her heart soar, or send it plummeting to the earth. No matter what Judy did, she wanted Nick by her side. If he didn't want to go back, she wouldn't. It was simple as that. She considered closing her eyes tight, if only to shield herself from what could have been coming.

But she didn't need to be scared. Nick hesitated, but only for a beat.

"I think that I'd follow you anywhere, Judy Hopps."

"Oh, Nick," she said, though it was more of a sigh than a sentence.

"I mean it."

"I know you do." She was chilly in the shade, it was true. But she was glad to be in this hidden spot. There were no prying eyes, and no wagging tongues. Judy could step as close to Nick as she liked. She could wrap her arms around him, one around his waist, another around his neck. She could guide him down, tilt her head up, and press a small kiss to his mouth. She figured now was as good a time to say it as any. After all, he had already said it to her. She kept her face close to his, and said, quietly, "I love you."

"Yeah, yeah," Nick mumbled, pressing himself against the wall of the school and pushing Judy slightly. She stepped back, and he pulled himself out of his lean. He put an arm around her shoulders, drew her in close, and began to walk, guiding them out of the little alley way created by the elementary school and the peanut stand. She was smiling hugely, and she knew that if she looked up, Nick would have a similar expression on his face. Judy wondered if everyone would be able to tell what had just happened. She wondered if every mammal who saw her would know that she had just found her happiness. "We still have a lot to see, Carrots."

A/N: Thanks for reading!