Author's Note

This is the fourth story in my Zootopia fan fiction series. The first story, A Week In The Life takes place after Nick has completed most of his yearlong probationary period following graduation from the Zootopia Police Academy. The second story, Another Step on the Path, takes place immediately after the end of A Week In The Life. The third story, Recovery and Resolutions, starts a couple of weeks after the end of Another Step on the Path, after Nick has been released from the hospital, but is still recovering from his injuries. This story, Her Own Way, begins six months after the end of Recovery and Resolutions.

This first chapter will be posted on 2 September, 2016 if all goes according to plan, and succeeding chapters will appear at one week intervals (on 9 September, 16 September, 23 September and 30 September through chapter 5), assuming that all goes as planned.

Summary

It has been six months since the end of Recovery and Resolutions, and Nick and Judy have come to some measure of agreement regarding their relationship, and on their future together. They take the "next step" in their relationship, and some earlier problems are resolved (only to be replaced by other problems, naturally). There are no happy endings, because nothing ever really ends (with apologies to Peter S. Beagle).

Her Own Way

"I have learned that only two things are necessary to keep one's wife happy. First, let her think she's having her own way. And second, let her have it." – Lyndon B. Johnson

Chapter 1: Honor and Reputation

"Reputation is what other people know about you. Honor is what you know about yourself. Guard your honor. Let your reputation fall where it will. And outlive the bastards."

Aral Vorkosigan to Miles Vorkosigan, in A CIVIL CAMPAIGN by Lois McMaster Bujold

Friday, End of Day Shift, Wilde's & Hopps' Office, Precinct 1

Nick Wilde stretched and settled back into his chair. He reached up and brought his index finger down hard on the enter key, and the last of his paperwork for the day was sent on its electronic way. He looked over at Hopps' still vacant desk; she'd been working a "temporary" assignment in Vice for some six months, and it was only on the weekends that he'd been able to see his former partner.

Wilde stretched again, sighed, and checked the clock for perhaps the tenth time in the last hour. Carrots should have been done by now – even if she took the time to shower, again, he thought. He yawned, and sighed.

The office door slammed open; Wilde spun around to find Lieutenant Hopps striding in and over to his desk. She grabbed his muzzle and pulled his head down, and she looked carefully into his nostrils.

"Good, you're wearing nose filters," she said.

Wilde shook himself, and pulled his muzzle back out of the lapine doe's grasp. "It's nearly December … of courseI'm wearing nose filters. Do you think I'm stupid?" was his angry retort.

"Sly bunny, dumb fox," Judy said, pointing first at herself and then at Nick. "But it's nice to know that you're not a complete moron."

"I'm not trying to get scent drunk – please remember that I gave you my word, remember? Or are you coming to question it … again?"

"No, Nick, but sometimes you seem to take too many chances for your own good."

Nick couldn't help but laugh, hollow though the sound was. "Look who's talking! Though at least you aren't taking all that many chances in Vice."

The lapine doe scowled at her former partner. "Just what do you think I've been doing in Vice these last six month?"

"Dressing up and trying to entice stupid males – presumably buck rabbits – into trying to 'pay for play', and then busting them when you get into a prepared hotel room," Nick said. "At least, that's what I gathered from Officer Fuchs' description of her short stay in Vice. It's not the nicest of assignments – but at least it shouldn't be all that dangerous. It's not as though you were actuallytrying to make a living 'in the life'," Wilde said.

"Did Fuchs mention the perfumes?"

"Perfumes?"

"Pheromone laden perfumes. Vice insisted on me practically drenching myself in the stuff. Why do you think that I've been showering at end of shift every day for the last six months?"

"I just assumed that you were trying to get the 'filth' of the day's work off of you. If you're wondering at my use of nose filters – heck – it's getting into mating season for my species, so I really have to pay some small attention to that 'warm furry aroma'."

"I'm just glad that those filters block all the pheromonal perfumes – natural and artificial. Hence any traces that might be left of what I was drenched in this shift," Hopps said.

"Well, I can't smell any perfume right now – I can't smell much of anything with these filters in place. And with every vixen coming into heat over the next few weeks, I'll just keep wearing filters."

"That's fine by me. I'd like Friday Flicks night to become our 'private time' again, Nick. Especially tonight," Hopps said.

"Oh? And why would that be? Are you still jealous of 'Officer Fuchs'?"

"After finding her in your apartment with her butt in the air, searching for where you hid her panties? Just what did you expect me to think?"

"I thought we got that straightened out months ago. She was drunk…"

"And the two of you shared a bed. If I hadn't gotten a sniff of your shorts…"

"Glad to hear – again – that you acknowledge the truth, that the two of us did not 'do the nasty'."

Judy snorted and wiggled her nose. "It was the appearance that got to me – and what with her being your trainee…"

"I have been very careful about the rules regarding fraternization, Lieutenant Fluff," Nick said, with his lips lifted just enough to show a glint of carnassials. "We've kept matters well on the 'good' side of the line. Are you ever going to stop nagging me about that one time?"

Judy took a deep breath. "Ok, I shouldn't be this way. Not right now, but those perfumes work both ways. Right now, I'm 'quite interested' in certain activities, and I'm on a bit of an emotional roller coaster. I haven't seen you all week, and I've been … drenched in this stuff."

Nick tried reaching over to rub the top of the lapine doe's head; she jerked back and knocked his paw to one side. "You rabbits … so emotional," Nick said.

"And you foxes … so obnoxious," Judy said.

Nick arched his back and cocked his head. "Woah! Let's both back down a bit, here. What can I do to make you feel better? And not piss you off?"

Judy took several deep breaths. "I'd like to shower again, tonight, and get the last traces of the pheromonal perfumes off. And I'd just as soon not shower alone – not to mention not showering in that shared shower in my apartment building. The shower in your apartment is big enough for two."

"And you want some privacy? Ok, I can text Edda now. I haven't been Edda's training officer for the last six months without getting to know her well enough – though she's still going to want to come over for Battlebots tomorrow," Nick said, and pulled out his phone.

"I trust this isn't just another hustle, Nick," Judy said.

Nick chuckled. "It's a done deal," he said, holding up the reply text from Edda Fuchs. "Relax, Carrots. I've finished my paperwork, thank goodness…"

"You sound a bit down – I should have noticed," Hopps said, sniffing and taking a more careful look at her former partner.

"It could have been better today. I was on traffic patrol with Fuchs today and … well … we had a rather … unexpected collar."

"Oh? Give, foxie! Couldn't have been that bad."

"It was, Hopps. It was. It started with a VC 23109(c) violation…"

"Exhibition of speed? What happened, did 'Flash' burn rubber in front of you? I thought that he learned his lesson when we shut down his little street racing game…"

Wilde sighed. "It started there – a little red speedster burned out of a stoplight with a squeal of tires and some burned rubber smoke. Right beside us. I hit the lights, and Fuchs got in behind the speedster – we clocked her at 55 in a 30 zone…"

"Why didn't you add the speeding ticket … or did you?"

"Couldn't clock her for long enough – the driver spotted us and slowed before we had been following and clocking long enough for it to really stand up in court. But it got worse."

"For the driver? What did he do?"

"She, Hopps, she."

"Ooooh … anyone you know?"

"Yes."

"C'mon – give, foxie! Who was it?"

"Carolson."

"As in ADA Janet Carolson?"

"Yes. We pulled her over, and I came up to the side of her car – Fuchs held back, ready to back me up. When she rolled down the driver side window, I almost gagged on the alcohol smell. There was a bottle of scotch in the passenger seat – it was only about half full. Carolson's breath reeked."

"So … misdemeanor or felony charges?"

"Carolson committed a traffic violation – the exhibition of speed. Thankfully for her, this was a first offense – Fuchs ran the check from the patrol car – and there were no injuries, and Carolson did not attempt to evade. But I suspect that she's still going to get the book thrown at her – but with only one of the three requirements met, I'm betting that this will be treated as a misdemeanor."

"Ouch! That can still mean up to a year in jail."

"Depends on what the jury says – and what the judge sentences her to."

"You expect her to be convicted?"

"If she doesn't plead out, yeah. Between the videos from the dash cam, my body cam, and the statements from our backup – McHorn and Fangmire – I'd guess it will be an open and shut case. Then it's just a matter of what the judge decides. That and what the bar disciplinary committee says about her license to practice."

"Double ouch! I don't suppose you have any idea…"

"No. I've gotten a bit of a feel for what the justice system does – thanks to your books and a bit of talking to ADAs – but I don't have a clue as to what the bar association will do to an attorney who gets arrested and convicted for DUI. But I don't expect it to be nice, whatever happens to her."

"You get her to blow into the breathalyzer?"

"She refused – so I got her to accept a field sobriety test. She failed, disastrously. And then she threw up – we had to call a 'bus. She's at Mercy General right now – alcohol poisoning. They ran blood tests – her blood alcohol level was zero point two six."

"That's over three times the legal limit!"

"You're telling me? I wrote her up for VC 23152(a), and I'm just glad that she didn't hurt anyone else – or herself, for that matter."

"So you're not likely to be getting another tennis lesson from her?"

"If she gets out of Mercy General, she's going to be going straight to jail. Forty-eight court hours before she'll be arraigned, so she's going to be 'out of action' until at least Wednesday morning. And I rather doubt that she's going to want to play tennis with me then, any more than she'll be able to this Sunday," Wilde said.

"So which is the bad part? No more lessons…"

"It's about having to arrest someone whom I'd thought of as a friend. And that's not counting the two and a half hours I had to spend filling in paperwork on the arrest. Fuchs is still writing up her report, last I checked. 'There, but for the grace of God, go I'," the tod said, shaking his head.

"You're not a criminal…"

"Any more – but I've probably consumed more alcohol in the last year than I did in the rest of my life up to then," Wilde said.

"I thought you'd promised to cut down on the cider … have you replaced it with hard liquor?" Hopps asked, a slightly worried tone in her voice.

"Yes, I've cut down the cider – and I've stayed away from the harder stuff. But my consumption is still up from, say, two or three years ago."

"Maybe we can manage a little 'stress relief' tonight – so you won't need as much alcohol this weekend."

"I just finished my paperwork, so I'll be leaving soon. My place? I'll fix dinner."

"You'd better – at least you've got something more than a dinky microwave and a mini-fridge in that rent controlled apartment of yours."

"Hey, I got that place honestly. When can I expect you?"

"Not for a while. I haven't finished my paperwork. There's more of it to deal with in Vice. Where I have been stuck these last six months. This latest 'incident' report is one of the less pleasant aspects of the assignment," Judy interrupted.

"Care to talk about it?" Nick asked.

"Not right now – maybe tonight."

"In the shower?"

Judy looked at the vulpine tod. "I make a practice of not talking when my mouth is full."

"Ah … I think I'll go see about something," Nick said, and edged out of their shared office.

Later That Evening, Nick's Apartment

There was a knock at the door. Nick set down his mug of catnip tea, and called out, "Come in, Judy, you have a set of keys, remember?"

"Are you decent?", Judy replied, her voice slightly muffled by the heavy door.

"Yes, Judy," Nick replied, sighing loud enough that he thought the lapine doe would be able to hear him, despite the sound muffling effect of the door.

"Overdone is underwhelming, fox boy," Judy said, as she strode into the apartment. "You still need to work on that, just a bit."

Nick looked up at the ceiling. "I was stressing it for conversational effect – and to get it past the door. Now sit down, relax, and dig in," he said, spreading his paws to indicate the food spread out on the coffee table. "I left the dressing for the salad on the side – and the fresh blueberries are for you as well."

"You're sure you don't want any?"

"I already had two small bowls of them – I'm blueberried out, difficult though that may be."

Judy looked the fox over carefully; leaving blueberries was not in character. "Ok, just what's the hustle this time?"

"Me? Hustle you? Now why would I do that?" Nick said.

"Because that's what you do, Nicholas Piberius Wilde! That's what you do!"

Nick shook his head, got up and wrapped the lapine doe in a firm hug. "You are so emotional tonight – so why don't you finish up your salad and then tell me what you want us to do?"

Judy filled her mouth with fennel leaves and blueberries, and made angry noises until she was able to finish eating. "You, filters out, in the shower, now!" she barked out into the tod's shirt.

"Yes, ma'am," Nick said.

#

The bottom of the tub was filled with a giant orange and white sponge. The shower spray continued to soak down the already soaked-to-the-skin tod. Nick held his head at such an angle as to simultaneously avoid the spray and keep his mouth (barely) above the level of the water in the tub. It was pleasant – and he needed to catch his breath.

It was nice just lying here under the spray, alone, after the "exercises" that the bunny had practically forced on him. Well … not exactly. Viewed honestly (he could still manage to do so without a twinge) he'd not exactly objected. At least, not at first. The bunny was far more intense than usual. Absence making the heart grow fonder? Naah. She's just "good at multiplying". He managed a chuckle at that thought. Stereotyping, Nick old boy? Bad thought. But how else to describe her tonight? Unless those pheromonal perfumes pushed her into these behaviors. Now there's a frightening thought.

A lapine paw pulled back the shower curtain and reached in to turn off the spray. "Get up, foxie!" Judy commanded.

"But it's so nice just lying here under the spray. And you were the one to 'ride me hard' – now are you going to 'put me away wet'?" Nick asked.

Judy scowled at the supine fox. "You're too heavy for me to lift right now – and you'll catch your death of a cold if you try to sleep like this!"

Nick sighed, and pulled himself out of the tub. "Spoilsport! And here I was getting comfortable …"

Judy shook her head and tried (vainly) to help the soggy fox out of the tub. "You must have sopped up two gallons of water in that pelt of yours!"

Nick grinned at the lapine doe as he settled down on all fours after extracting himself from the tub. He shook himself, filling the bathroom with droplets.

"Hey! Stop that!" Judy cried out. The bunny looked down at her now drenched nightclothes. "That's not funny, fox!"

Nick crawled over to the fur dryer, and set it on the "hurricane" setting before he answered. "Your fault – you insist on me getting out of the tub, you pay the price," he answered.

"After what I did…"

"Exhaust me – with uncharacteristic … ah … vigorous … what should I call it? Oh, yes, demonstrating that you 'know how to multiply'. Of course, as far as you were concerned, I was 'shooting blanks'. Different species…"

"Piberius Wilde!"

"Ok, subject closed … for now. Unless you want to be blown away…" Nick said, his paw resting lightly on the "on" button for the fur dryer fan.

#

Judy snuggled up against "her" fox in the bed, settling in with her back rubbing against his chest. "I promise not to play 'thief of blanket' tonight, if you promise to reconsider your idea."

"Which one?"

Judy elbowed Nick just under the ribs. "You know which one!"

Nick rubbed the affected region, wondering how many bruises he'd collected to date. "That hurt, you know!"

"It's the only way I can get your attention sometimes," Judy answered.

"I'll remember that the next time you get into one of those 'me so horny' moments," Nick said. "Oooh … your ears just flushed with blood. So … are you 'back to normal', or do I have to order take-out from an oyster shop?"

"I didn't hear you complaining earlier, Nick," she said.

"That was before you started going in for contortionist exercises. You weren't like this last week. Just what happened this week that was different? You still haven't told me, you know."

"Tomorrow, Nick. We'll talk about that tomorrow. Maybe I just want to make sure that you don't have anything left for … other targets," Judy said.

"Now vixens are 'other targets'?" Nick shook his head, even as he wrapped his arms around the bunny. "Fluff, you really ought to watch the jealousy factor – I haven't been with anyone else since…"

"I found Lizzie with her legs wrapped around your waist?"

"Geez, Fluff! That was months ago – and she attacked me. I was still recovering – and I couldn't do anything to stop your sister with my ribs as sore as they were. You saved me, not for the first time."

"And when I came in to find Fuchs with her nose down and butt up, searching for her panties?"

Nick took a deep breath. Some things never changed. "I told you – entirely innocent, in fact. Someone's eyes are turning green. I seem to remember that someone we know had to sniff inside my shorts to make sure that I hadn't been doing anything 'nasty' with any vixen."

"You said you wanted to have kits of your own, someday – and that would necessarily involve 'doing the nasty' with some vixen," Judy said, turning to go 'nose-to-nose' with the fox.

"Assumes facts not in evidence," Nick said.

"Adopting Carolson's phrasing?"

"There's this thing called 'artificial insemination', Judy. There are … 'other options' … to playing 'push-tail'. But can we talk about this some other time as well?"

Judy sighed. "Many times, I am sure." She kissed the fox's nose, then turned around and snuggled back into her former position – her back to his chest.