Dreams In Disguise

Dreams in Disguise

Nick Wilde paced the length of the conference room, every now and then glancing anxiously at the city below. This was where he came to unwind. With no meetings in session, he was free to let his mind—and hind paws—roam. This was his castle, his sanctuary, his haven...So why, then, did he feel like he was in a cage?

Wildefire Enterprises was his territory. He relished business, and everything about it—the competition, the negotiations, taking charge, and reaping the rewards. He'd been its face, its voice, its heart and soul from the word 'go'. He thrived under the pressure that was staying on top of his game every single second of every single day…

Oh, who was he kidding?! He was feeling increasingly fed up with the whole grind. He was thisclose to losing his mind, and he had no idea why. Wildefire represented everything he'd ever wanted to achieve, yet these days, he resisted the urge to pull his fur out on a daily basis. What was his problem?!

A light tap on the door jarred him from his thoughts. “Hey, Nick—you good?” Hannah S. Hare, Nick's secretary and PA, watched him, concern flitting over her otherwise nonchalant expression. Nick briefly considered brushing her off, then thought the better of it. Besides, that wouldn't be half as much fun. Turning from the window, he gave her his most indulgent grin.

“Well, if it isn't my fetching little secret-tart!” Hannah's answering smirk revealed her pleasure at the usual friendly jibe—her capital N-nickname, if you will.

“Pfft—In your dreams, Wilde!” She laughed uproariously, then backpedaled. “Okay, okay, in my dreams! Anyway—Why the long face?”

“Well,” he quipped, “We foxes do have sharp features...They make yours truly rather handsome, don't you think?”

“Nick…!” At Hannah's warning tone, Nick's smile vanished.

“Ah, Hannah, I...” He sighed wearily and swiped a paw through the fur between his ears. “I don't know.” Fixing him with a stern glare, she said,

“You've been comin' in here, alone, every chance you get, for the past six weeks. Don't think you're gonna get off that easy.” Her expression faltered, and genuine concern filled her eyes again, just before she turned tail and left the room.

***

“You're on in 10, Hoplah!” The rabbit barely registered her producer's words of warning. Instead, she sat in front of her dressing room mirror, daydreaming, as she hummed her new favorite song. Another great show was on the horizon; she couldn't wait to get started.

The beatific bunny was living her dream. She was the biggest star in Zootopia—next to Gazelle, who, being a personal friend, had appeared on the show several times. She had a paw on the pop culture beat, witnessed memorable mammal-interest stories unfold in front of her eyes, and every day she had the opportunity to help all Zootopians make themselves—and the world—better. She always grabbed that chance with both paws.

She loved every minute of it, but today, she was especially looking forward to one segment in particular: “...We are on Day One of our 'Unmasking GoodWilderness' series. All month long, the renowned wish-granting charity for mammals in need will help one audience member each day. Though GoodWilderness has thousands of volunteers, few mammals know the identity of the founder. That's all about to change; follow my team and I as we work to uncover this fascinating puzzle of philanthropy.”

***

Hannah Hare had known Nick a long time. He'd hired her as his PA years ago, when he was just starting out. Most of Hannah's family thought she was crazy to want to work with a pred so soon after her run-in with the tiger. But that was just it; that tiger was the crazy one, not her—and not all preds. She and Nick saw eye-to-eye on a lot of things; they both had grit and determination in spades. Nick knew that Hannah could be as fierce as any pred if she felt like it; Hannah knew that Nick could be as gentle as a prey if he pleased.

That was why they got along so well. And that was why Hannah felt partly responsible for getting Nick out of whatever funk he was in right now. Except, the more she thought about it, the less convinced she became that it was a funk. No, this was a lot more. He needed to change something—and fast—or he was going to regret it.

Hannah couldn't shake the feeling. It seemed to surround her, even as she sat at home one day, kicking back to watch her favorite show. There weren't that many good shows on T.V. these days. Most of them were either smut, blood-and-guts, or both. She had no patience for that; she liked to lighten things up a bit. A rabbit relative herself, Hoplah was her guilty pleasure. 'Guilty' because she didn't really care about fitting in; she was too old for that, and it had never been her thing, anyway. Still, she liked the show, even if it got to be painfully sappy sometimes, even for her.

She wasn't fanatical about it. She didn't buy and try every little thing recommended, nor did she know each minute detail of the host's life. She didn't even watch every day. But she thought that the young doe had a good head on her shoulders for her twenty-five years, and some solid ideas to boot. Hannah herself was pushing forty, and often found herself wishing she'd had somebunny like this kit to look up to when she was younger.

So, when she turned on the show that day, not knowing what she'd get, she spat out a carrot chip in surprise. 'Our exclusive investigation of GoodWilderness begins…' Hannah didn't even hear the rest of the announcer's spiel, only, 'Today on Hoplah!' She was glued to her seat for the next hour.

The next morning, Hannah wondered if yesterday's T.V. sesh had been a dream. It was too crazy to have been real. Or was it? She knew she'd better make up her mind pretty quickly; Nick would be in any second now. She couldn't believe she was debating telling him, of all mammals, about what she'd seen on a talkfest—even if it was the best one out there. She decided not to—not now, anyway. If she played her cards right, maybe later she'd catch him in the conference room again.

***

“Good morning, gorgeous,” Nick greeted her, a slightly seductive smirk playing on his muzzle.

“Flattery gets you nowhere, Wilde,” she retorted—though Nick noted that her eyes danced with mischief, suggesting the opposite.

“Quit being fresh with the boss”--though he laughed when she rolled her eyes at this remark-- “and get to work!” Nick loved pushing Hannah's buttons like that; recently, more often than not, it was the highlight of his day.

So, he wasn't bothered by the fact that she caught him sulking in the conference room that afternoon. “Whatcha up to, Wilde?” When he didn't reply immediately, she added, “If I did this much lollygagging every day, you'd fire me.” Nick smiled.

“Be that as it may...I'm not you; I'm me, as in the one who calls the shots around here.” Hannah shook her head in fond annoyance at the fox.

“Listen, Nick. We've been pretty tight all these years. You've helped me out of some pretty rough scrapes, and having you around has done me a heck of a lotta good, so I hope you don't mind if I return the favor. What I'm saying is...Get a life.” For a split second, Nick expected Hannah to give a bark of laughter and taunt, 'Gotcha!' In other words, he was waiting for her to do exactly the kind of thing she usually did. But her face remained devoid of humor, her eyes reflecting the same tender care as they had the time before; he knew she was serious.

“I know you've been in a rut lately. But I think I can help. I saw a segment on Hoplah yesterday...” Before Nick could think to taunt her with, 'You watch Hoplah?!'--a knock in keeping with their usual back-and-forth—the hare went on. “She's looking for the founder of GoodWilderness.” He stared at her for a beat, disbelieving.

“She'll never find out. Nobody has.”

“She's good at what she does, Nick. If anybody can do it, I think it's her.” Regaining his composure, Nick spoke.

“And you're telling me this why?” Full-on boss mode, to remind her who she was talking to.

“Beat her to the punch, Nick. Waiting around won't do you any good; you'll drive yourself nuts before it's over.” Hannah stood her ground. “It's time to call it a day, Nick. You need to get out there and do something that excites you again. It's about time.” As much as Nick hated to admit it, she was right.

***

Another day, another GoodWilderness segment! Hoplah was ecstatic. Sometimes, like today, she'd get so wrapped up in what might happen next that she forgot she was in the driver's seat. It was her job to choose what happened next...for the most part. The rest was just improvised as they went along. Running the show all came down to what her audience knew as 'The 3 Cs': Choice, Chance, & Circumstance. And that wasn't just showbiz talk. She loved surprises!

That was a big reason why she'd wanted to do this bit. GoodWilderness was her favorite charity. Not only that, but she'd always been fascinated by the fact that no one had ever taken ownership of it. Sure, some mammals couldn't stand the spotlight, but there had to be more to the story...Her inquisitive nature compelled her to find out the rest. Personally, she imagined a noble creature with a delicate soul who was far too fragile to face the media attention their beloved project garnered.

“You're on in 10, Hoplah!” This time, her producer pulled her aside. Apparently someone claiming to be the founder of GoodWilderness had called and demanded to talk to her on-air. Would she take the call? Hoplah's eyes lit up. Would she?! Were carrots orange?! She headed for the stage, eager to begin.

Just then, she heard the director's call. “And we're on in 5...4...3...2...1...” Showtime.

“Hi, everyone, and welcome to the show!” The audience applauded, and then… “I've just received word from my producer that”--Hoplah tried to reel in the squee that was threatening to invade her professional tone-- “the purported founder of GoodWilderness is on the line and has requested to speak with me on-air.” There was an audible gasp from the crowd. Although there was no doubt in Hoplah's mind about what she would do, ever the excellent hostess, she asked, “So, guys, what do you think? Should I take the call?” The verdict was unanimous. The crowd cheered with the very fervor that Hoplah was struggling to rein in. She beamed. “Alright then! Let's do it!” The call was connected to speakerphone, and the audience fell silent in anticipation.

“Good afternoon, Miss Hoplah,” the disembodied voice said. At first it seemed there was something wrong with the signal, as it sounded oddly distorted. But her crew quickly deduced that the caller was using some kind of device to purposefully disguise their voice. While this annoyed her inner fangirl, it thrilled her detective streak. One could reasonably infer that the average mammal, one who didn't have anything to hide, would want to be identified on television. This, in turn, could only mean one thing—this mammal was the founder of GoodWilderness. Every instinct told Hoplah she was right. So, she'd better tread carefully.

“Hello! Just Hoplah is fine. What should I call you?” The line was silent, and for a moment Hoplah was sure they'd been disconnected. But before she could wonder if that had been done by accident or on purpose, the voice spoke.

“Pi.” Hoplah stifled a giggle.

“Pie? As in the pastry?!” The audience, however, was unable to resist chuckling.

“Ah, good—your audience is there. How's it going, folks?” They cheered. “Excellent. I want witnesses for this.” Before anyone could begin to decipher what was meant by that remark, the voice continued. “No. Though I do like pie, especially blueberry. But, I digress. 'P-i'. Like the number. 3.14...yada, yada.” The audience laughed. “I have a long, boring, unpronounceable name, so...'Pi' it is.”

Hoplah smiled, enjoying the conversation. As sweetly and passively as she could, she replied, “Why don't you tell us what it really is, and let us be the judge of that?” The audience cheered in approval.

“Not a chance.” The entire studio was taken aback by the suddenly hostile tone until they heard a chuckle. “I'm kidding. I'll prove it, too. Hoplah, let me make you a deal: If, by the end of this business week—that's three days from now—you can't figure out who I am, you make a million-dollar donation to GoodWilderness. To my knowledge, you've made plenty of donations over the years—and thank you for that, by the way—but that would really do us a lot of good. Are you up for it?”

“Of course! But what if I win?”

“If you win, I'll come on your show, in person, and spill the beans. I might even tell you my entire life story. You'd need at least triple the airtime for that.” The audience laughed. Secure in the rapport she'd managed to build with the mystery mammal in such a short time, Hoplah knew she had nothing to lose.

“Anything for my pal Pi!” she quipped.

“Excellent. May the best mammal win. That's all, folks—for now.” The audience went wild. Before Hoplah could get another word in, the call disconnected.

***

“Phew! Glad that's over. Thanks again for letting me use your phone, Hannah.” Nick was holed up in his trusty secretary's living room, where they'd been watching the day's episode of Hoplah as it unfolded. She grinned, glad to have a key role in the operation. They'd established that he'd call from Hannah's apartment so the call wouldn't be traceable to him—not immediately, anyway. As Nick had so sagely pointed out, if Hoplah was going to out him, she was going to have to earn it. He'd already decided that he would appear on her show regardless—after all, if he was going to be pushed into this anyway, he wanted to have the satisfaction of going out with a bang.

Hannah liked his approach; in fact, she was having entirely too much fun with the whole thing. And it wasn't because of Hoplah, either...She knew that she should not be enjoying her boss this much. But she didn't care.

“Don't mention it,” she told him, waving off his words with a lazy paw. But she couldn't resist preening a bit, if only slightly.

If Nick noticed her little display, he didn't show it. He spoke casually--“I wouldn't want to impose, but can we make this a date for the next three days?” But then his voice trailed off, and he grinned. “Let's say, same time, same place?” Now, this was the Nick she knew.

“You betcha!”

***

For the next three days, Hoplah and her team worked tirelessly around the clock to crack 'the Case of the Fugitive Founder', as Hoplah had affectionately dubbed it. Well, maybe not tirelessly; they were exhausted. But Hoplah had a knack for always running smoothly, even on pure adrenaline. Though she was much younger than most of her crew, they all respected the rabbit who had the drive of someone twice her age.

No surprise there, since, when she was a kit, she'd wanted to be a police officer. Between her energy, her outstanding grit, her taste for truth, and her need to make the world a better place, there had been nothing stopping her from getting there.

When she'd taken a journalism course in college, she'd considered it a fun and novel experience, and nothing else. But when her professor--a sweet, sensitive cheetah named Clawhauser—had insisted that she had a very bright future in the field, she began to envision a different life for herself. She quickly caught the journalism bug, and because she'd grown quite fond of Clawhauser, she wouldn't dream of letting him down.

She'd enthusiastically told her crew this story too many times to count. But, with decades of showbiz experience between them, they quickly realized Clawhauser's true motive. Bright, vibrant, and a joy to work with, Hoplah was born to be a star. If Clawhauser was as softhearted as she said he was—and she was always honest and a great judge of character—then, in reality, he couldn't stand the thought of that light being snuffed out in the line of duty. What's more, because the loyalty and gratitude she unfailingly bestowed upon her staff was equally reciprocated, every one of them agreed with the cheetah, and not one had the heart to tell her so.

***

“Hey, Nick—Do you believe in love at first sight?” It was the final day of Nick's bet with Hoplah, and he was sitting in Hannah's apartment again, waiting for the show to start. Funnily enough, it wouldn't come on for at least another 45 minutes. He'd sent Hannah home early, and, he, too, had shown up at her door ahead of schedule. He'd expected her to be irked by his premature arrival, yet she seemed to be enjoying this quality time as much as he was.

“That's an odd question to ask your boss.” Given that he looked smug—in both expression and appearance—only then was Hannah irritated, if only mildly.

“I already asked you the fluff-y stuff.”

“You don't say? But, on second thought, I would have remembered if you tried to proposition me.” His emerald eyes gleamed with mischief, and he winked.

“You know what I mean! Fluff, as in idle chit-chat. Stuff with no substance. Like—ooh, here's one I missed—do you wish on stars?” Nick balked at the suggestion.

“Absolutely not. And even if I did, there are barely any stars in this lousy city!” Hannah sighed in exasperation.

“Easy, fella! You're missing the point…!” But she let the topic drop; she didn't want to fight. She was having too much fun...again.

“Answer my question, or you suffer the fluff!”

“Sheesh. Now I know why you're so good at your job; you know how to get what you want. Remind me not to get on your bad side.” Mindful of these words, he went on. “To answer your question, my little secret-tart...No, I don't believe in love at first sight.” He smiled slightly. “If I did, you wouldn't be sitting here right now, trying to get to some emotional third base with me.” Hannah raised an eyebrow in question, but smiled. “Life is never that perfect. Mine certainly isn't.”

Hannah knew better than to think she'd get anything more than that from him. She'd pieced together the hardships of being a fox from everything he had told her, starting with his being cruelly ejected from the Junior Ranger Scouts as a young and still impressionable kit. Still, somehow he always managed to surprise her…

“When I founded Wildefire, I loved the feeling of being in control. Nobody was going to tell me what I could or couldn't do, because 'I'm in charge' and all that. But it's hard. It's hard knowing that the future of an entire organization, the livelihoods of every single employee, depend on me. Just me. There's no one there to bail you out.” He paused as his poise deserted him, and he loosened his tie—a rare nervous habit. “I used to think that was a dream come true, having it all to myself, but now? It's a nightmare.”

Hannah gaped at him. One paw flew to her mouth, the other to her heart. “Nick—I had no idea.” That was a white lie; she knew he had it tough, but there were things she wouldn't know unless he told her, such as—she'd thought he loved his job.

When Hannah managed to compose herself, she gave him a solicitous smile. “Nick—You have it all together. You have it together better than any mammal I've ever seen, including me. But, I guess looks can be deceiving, huh? You helped me out big time. I thought nobody was going to give the time of day to a puny little gimpy hare, but you did. Bein' your PA's the best thing that's ever happened to me.”

Nick reached for her paw, giving it a reassuring squeeze. “Look at us, Hannah. We both let what others think of us rule our lives. Lot of good that did us, eh?”

“That's what I'm sayin', Nick. Give yourself the same respect you gave me. Let Hoplah do her thing and show the world what a softie you are. The world needs more softies.” Nick smiled.

“Thanks—I think. Nah! I knew I liked you.” They both laughed.

***

Hoplah counted down the 30 minutes remaining until her Friday show with a mixture of excitement and trepidation. She was more than happy to give a million-dollar donation to GoodWilderness. What she didn't like was that losing the bet meant her detective skills were slipping. She and her team had tracked down every possible lead, and she'd spent every spare moment alone double- and triple-checking each of them.

What kind of host was she if she couldn't deliver what she'd promised?! Celebrities like her had everything money could buy. With all the tools at her disposal, she should have been able to find that founder! She was starting to think that she should have applied to the police academy after all; she wasn't worthy of fame. But, then again, what if she'd failed a real case as miserably as she'd failed this one? She'd best be glad she hadn't; she could deal with having her money and her reputation on the line--but justice, and possibly lives?! That was unacceptable.

“You're on in 10, Hoplah!” Her producer's familiar shout brought her back to reality. She should be thrilled, as she was when the founder's PA had called and said her client agreed to appear on the show regardless of who won the bet. Win or lose, she was getting an exclusive! She'd go out there, be a good sport, and graciously give GoodWilderness a check. It was definitely a win-win. And—she allowed herself to smile—when she met the founder, she'd give whoever-it-was a big hug, because there was so much great work being done...not just this week, but all the time. A Hoplah hug is the least of what they deserved.

***

“You ready, boss?” Hannah smiled encouragingly at Nick as she helped him straighten his tie. They were in his dressing room at Hoplah, biding their time until his segment.

“As I'll ever be, darling secret-tart. You didn't have to do this, you know. Clearly this place is crawling with minions; here, it's their job to take care of me.”

“Maybe so, but—I'd be crazy jealous if they so much as laid a paw on you.” Hannah's eyes held laughter, but something in her tone made Nick certain she was holding out on him. Served him right, for sure, and yet…

He put on his most authoritative tone. “Hannah, answer me this.” His matching stoic expression softened slightly as he went on. “Do you ever get the feeling that, if we were in a different place and time, we could be...together?” Hannah looked startled, but still managed to sigh, then speak slowly past the sudden lump in her throat.

“Not a day goes by that I don't.” But what her superior said next was truly shocking.

“Me, too, sweetheart. All the time.”

***

“Who's ready to meet the founder of GoodWilderness?!” Hoplah's question elicited hoots, hollers, whistles and cheers. The hostess was hopping in place, barely able to contain herself. “Alright, let's do this! Pi, come on out...!”

The second Nick stepped onto the stage, locking eyes with the lovely bunny who started it all, he recalled Hannah's words. Do you believe in love at first sight? He did now. He felt a stab of guilt for brushing off his closest confidant when she'd asked him, and for feeling this way mere minutes after making a heartfelt confession to her backstage.

Then, in the next instant, not a single thought remained in his mind save for those of Hoplah. True, he knew her face, her voice and her name—but he hadn't really seen her until that moment. When he reached out to take her paw, he had the sudden sensation that he was taking hold of a new life. Instead of shaking it, as he'd planned to do, he couldn't resist kissing it. For one who took pride in his self-control, he couldn't have stopped if he'd tried. When the bunny blushed and pulled him into a hug, he knew this was it.

“So we meet at last.” It was impossible to tell which of the two was more enthralled—him or Hoplah—though the audience would have guessed the latter, given that it showed.

“You're Nick Wilde!” Hoplah spoke with obvious awe.

“So I am. But being a mammalian mogul is harder than it looks. Wildefire wouldn't be where it is today without the loyalty of my fellow Zootopians, so I've always enjoyed giving back.” Hoplah beamed, but kept her composure.

“You've hidden your involvement with GoodWilderness all these years; why go public now?”

“I wanted one area of my life where I didn't have to brag about everything I do. I was the face of Wildefire 24/7; I'd rather that it take a backseat from now on. I might still be a backseat driver, but...” The audience laughed, “...at least I'll still be in the backseat.” Hoplah had been listening with rapt attention right up until it was her turn to speak.

“The way you refer to Wildefire, would you consider stepping down?”

“I'm not considering it—I am stepping down.” An audible gasp swept through the room. Nick remained unfazed. “You heard it here, folks—I'm resigning from Wildefire. I plan to stick with GoodWilderness full-time.” The crowd went crazy over this concession.

Hoplah couldn't believe what was happening. Not only was GoodWilderness' champion charming, funny, and attractive on the surface, but he was also everything she'd imagined earlier...and had eyes only for her. With all that he'd already revealed, she had no reason to believe that any of it was an act. Still, she decided to test him—for her audience's benefit, if not her own. “Thank you so much for your time, Nick. ” Smiling, she added, “I believe this is for you.” The producer brought forth that showbiz staple, a giant check--this one emblazoned with the words 'GoodWilderness' and 'One Million Dollars'. When cheers from the audience subsided, Hoplah continued. “But before you go, I have one more burning question for you.” Their eyes met again, and, for the second time, so much more than that burned for him.

“When we first spoke over the phone—why choose the alias 'Pi'?” Nick didn't miss a beat...unless you counted the ones his heart skipped when she'd used the phrase 'burning questions' and fixed him with her hypnotic amethyst eyes.

“Well, since I've already spilled most of my juicy secrets anyway...” The audience laughed. “It's the first two letters of my middle name—Piberius.” Nick shrugged playfully and gave everyone a look that said, 'aren't you sorry you asked?' “Until now, nobody but my family knew my middle name—not even my employees!” he added pointedly.

Meanwhile, Hoplah was mulling over an embarrassment of her own. “Nick Wilde, of Wildefire, and Good-Wilde-rness…! I can't believe I didn't…!” With that sudden realization, she almost let her earlier backstage blues get the best of her. But Nick came to her rescue.

“Relax, sweetheart—it's that way by design; I am a wily fox, after all.” He winked, and the audience erupted in laughter. Before she could gather her wits… “Say, Hoplah—could I interest you in a drink or two after the show?” That episode turned out to be the highest-rated in Hoplah history.

***

As he slowly came down from the high that had been his whirlwind 15 minutes on stage—and, without a doubt, one of the greatest moments of his life—Nick knocked on the dressing room door.

“You don't have to knock, honey. You're the star here, not me.”

“Hannah--”

“I know. I was watching.” She gestured to the television mounted on the corner wall. “You think I didn't see your face when you spotted her?” Nick raked a claw through the fur between his ears. It would have been easier if Hannah had given him the cold shoulder—given him what he deserved. But to have her understanding...Tears sprang to his eyes.

“I'm such a heel.”

“You sure are—sometimes. But not this time.” Nick only nodded, but the motion was at odds with his emotions, and for once that bothered him immensely. There was nothing he could say to account for his behavior, but his eyes pleaded with Hannah to punish him somehow—he wasn't worthy of forgiveness. And he certainly wasn't worthy of a friend who could anticipate his needs before he did. Reading his mind—another one of her talents—she replied,

“Nope. All I'm gonna say is, 'told you so'.”

He smiled. It was a smile for all they were, all they had always been, all they would ever be. He went to her. “You'll always be my secret-tart,” he said, fighting back tears. He watched her eyes widen as he leaned in to kiss her cheek.

He turned and headed for the door, pausing briefly when he heard her sigh wistfully and say, “...Thanks, Piberius.”

***

He was waiting at the table of a chic downtown cafe when he witnessed Hoplah make her entrance. He stood when she approached him; she was the star, yet she seemed in awe of the gentlemammal's gesture. Relishing her reaction, he couldn't resist pulling out a chair for her.

“Thank you.” Her words were slightly breathless, her smile somewhat shy. This seemed nothing like the golden girl of hours before. She soon broke the bemused silence that had spread between them. “So...First things first. My name isn't really Hoplah, you know.”

“I didn't know,” Nick confessed; the revelation surprised him, and yet...This was showbiz.

“It's Judy. Judy Hopps. When I was starting out, I thought my name should reflect my goals, and what I have to give. 'Hop-' is for 'Hopps', but it's also 'hope'.”

Nick resisted the urge to laugh. It was so simple, but it also couldn't have been more true. In the short time they'd known each other, she'd given Nick more hope than he'd had in a lifetime.

“'L-a' are the first two letters of my middle name,” Judy conceded. Her laughter held a trace of unease. “And because you so kindly revealed yours on national television for my benefit, it's only fair that I tell you what mine is...” Nick stopped her by covering her paw with his own.

“You don't have to,” he said gently. “It's no big deal.”

“It's okay,” Judy said softly, glancing his way. “I want to.” Her wondrous whispered words and vibrant violet eyes were suddenly vital to him. “It's Laverne.” He responded with a good-natured grimace.

“That's a shame. I thought for sure it would be 'Lavender'--you know, to match your eyes?” He gave her a genuine smile and grasped her paw tighter. She smiled back, relieved—and smitten.

“At least now we can commiserate,” Nick offered. “I know that's not much consolation, but...”

“It's plenty,” Judy answered dreamily, making Nick's heart hitch.

“So the 'h', at the end of 'Hoplah'--what's it stand for?” Judy laughed and let herself relax.

“Nothing,” she admitted. “It's silent. But it looks good.” They both laughed then.

“I think you're wrong, Miss Judy Laverne 'Hoplah' Hopps. I think it stands for happily ever-after.” From that moment on, she agreed.