I Dream of Judy

Chapter One: “I Only Dream of You”

Nick Wilde is goofing off when he should be working. That's nothing new. Sometimes he plays games or looks at Muzzlebook on his phone. Sometimes he times himself spinning in his chair, trying to see if he can set some kind of record. And sometimes, when he's truly desperate to escape paperwork, he steals a glance at Judy.

In fact, he steals as many glances as he can until she catches him. Then, they smile at one another, she playfully admonishes him, and they go back to work—well, she does, and he just starts working. It's what they always do. He won't tell you outright, but he does take his job seriously. Because of her. She'd asked him to be her partner, and she was the best thing that had happened to him since...ever. He admits that; they're best friends, for crying out loud! But, what he won't admit—even to himself—is how much farther he wants those good vibes to take him.

In his apartment at night—the apartment being a splurge he'd been able to make only because of his job, and, by extension, her—there's no sound in the space...unless you counted the thoughts spoken by that little voice in his head. The one that greets him as soon as he shuts the door and finds himself alone. I love her. He flops down onto the bed, as though to see if the thought will stick or if it will fly away when jarred. It sticks.

And it brings friends. The reason why me and my loner, bachelor self spend every minute with her—even when we're not working—is because I can't get enough of her Pollyanna side, when she isn't satisfied running just the city and wants world peace to boot...or her realist side, when she gets that determined look in her eyes and will exhaust every possibility, and do everything in her power to solve a case, to help others. She makes my day; being with her is the highlight of the job. I'm proud to be her partner.

He considers these thoughts. He realizes that he is comfortable with, satisfied by, these thoughts. That's all well and good, for friend stuff.

Yet his thoughts march forward, and he struggles to keep up. But my mind goes blank when she looks at me—really looks at me—with those gorgeous eyes, like she cares about what I have to say. My heart goes nuts when she touches me, and every time she laughs, I melt. Saving the world is important, but if I save her, I consider it a good day. Better yet, keep her safe in the first place. Be there when she needs me. Because I need her. I love her.

After that, his thoughts are quiet. He settles into bed, pulling the blanket up around him. It's a poor substitute for soft fur and warm bunny, but it'll do. Tomorrow he'll tell her. A thought stirs, then whispers, will it wreck our friendship? But quickly fades. They'd made it this far, they'd make it further. It dawns on him that if he wants to impress her, he'll have to think like her. And she doesn't give up so easily. But, free inside his dreams, his thoughts wander into doubt. Do I even deserve her? He dreams of her.

Chapter Two: “Halfway There”

The next morning, Nick shakes off the uncertainties for good. Their friendship is something he'll always cherish for the way it healed his heart and gave him guidance. It will guide him today.

It can only help him gain. It's everything good and light, much like the rabbit who shares it. He wants them to be together in a way that is more, but this desire doesn't make their friendship any less.

He strides into the precinct with this fresh resolve. As he waves at his colleagues, he is his confident, unsmiling self. But on the inside, he's a nervous wreck. A smiling nervous wreck.

He reaches their cubicles and spots her ears over the top of hers, twitching furiously, as they do when she is deep in concentration. “Hey,” he says by way of greeting.

“Hey.”

Nick sits down at his desk; this time, intent on working. He boots up his computer, watching as colors and shapes flash across the screen, drumming his claws on the desk as he waits. He steals a glance at her, and his mind changes in an instant; he should do it before he loses his nerve.

“Carrots.” But when he says it, the word sounds forced, rushed—not at all what he'd intended. Maybe she didn't hear.

“Yeah, Nick?” He facepaws. Of course she heard. She's a rabbit. She, too, sounds forced, rushed—and also skeptical, impatient. Clearly, she thinks this is a goof-off day. He doesn't blame her, because at some point every day, it becomes a goof-off day. Except this one. He backtracks.

“Wanna have lunch in the park today?” When he tells her, he'd rather risk an audience of strangers that he'll never see again than a break room full of co-workers who will eat up the spectacle along with their lunches and never let him hear the end of it. He knew the latter meant well—especially Clawhauser—but, cheese and crackers! they got on his nerves.

“Oh, sure.” She seems—relieved? Happy, even?--that he isn't procrastinating. Only he knows that while he's not putting off work for once, he's now delaying something far more important.

At noon exactly, Nick scrambles to his feet. “Lunch, Carrots. Let's roll.”

“Okay. Just let me finish typing this sentence.” Nick looks at the clock anxiously. Why does she have to be so...so perfect? Any other time, he finds that endearing, but right now, he's irritated. It has nothing to do with the doubts of last night and everything to do with the fact that he wants the moment to be as perfect as she is. He can't wait to tell her.

They arrive at the park with plenty of time to spare. Nick nearly slumps onto a bench with relief. Judy sits beside him. “You look awfully tired for someone who's always goofing off instead of working.” She's teasing, but her eyes express concern. Now's his chance.

“I've been thinking...”

When his voice trails off, she chimes, “Uh-oh!” and giggles. She's right; his mind can be a dangerous thing. Especially when it causes him to stall, as it had just then.

“Judy--” Her laughter stops. He only uses her name when he says something of consequence. “I love you.” He pauses, adds, “I mean really love you,” lest she mistake his words for the start of one of their usual friendly exchanges. He gazes deep into her violet eyes, hoping beyond hope that she understands his meaning.

She does, and it translates to surprise and wonder in her eyes. “Nick, that's so...I love you, too.” She smiles. His heart leaps; nothing can ruin this moment. Nothing, except… “I'm scared, Nick. Zootopia has a long way to go in accepting interspecies relationships, let alone predator/prey ones. I don't want you to suffer through that.” His heart aches for her, and yet her selfless words make him love her all the more.

“Judy, it's not 'suffering' if we both want it.” He reaches for her paw, holds it gently in his. She nods slightly, as though she wants to believe him, but doesn't. Before either of them realizes it, she climbs up onto his lap, he lowers his head, and they kiss.

Her sweetness overwhelms him, in the best way possible, and he gladly surrenders to it. But even in this moment, now a highlight of his life, he can't shake the bitterness that clings to her words. Those words stay with him through the chaos of the day, and into the solitude of night.

He wishes he could stop her from hurting. That solving her problem—the whole city's problem—would come as naturally to him as sarcasm, pessimism, and all the other Nick-like things he does so easily. But he can't, and it doesn't. But what if...

...If we could be together alone, really alone, and away from all that for one night, I could show her that what we have is worth the risk. This time, his thoughts are on his side. Tonight, he'll sleep soundly. He smiles as he drifts off. What did I do to deserve her?

Chapter Three: “Close To Loving Me”

But it isn't long before his thoughts turn on him again, echoing her words back to him in broad daylight, making the bright sunlight that pours through his window seem dim. 'I'm scared, Nick. Zootopia has a long way to go in accepting interspecies relationships, let alone predator/prey ones. I don't want you to suffer through that.' He rises reluctantly, afraid of what the day might bring, and hoping that somehow, he can eradicate her fear.

It occurs to him that such a feat might be easier said than done. Today is Friday, so he'll have the weekend to think about it… No. He'll ask her today, and if he's lucky, he'll get two nights to convince her they deserve a chance.

He hovers over her desk before even bothering with his own. “Good morning.” She looks up, smiles.

“Good morning, Nick.” Her eyes are on him, and he seizes the opportunity, before they turn away again.

“Wanna have a sleepover at my place tonight?” He attempts his usual casual tone, succeeds; all the while, his stomach feels as though he's riding a roller-coaster. Normally a thrill-seeker, today he could do without the sensation.

Beautiful violet eyes widen. He's known them long enough to see that—yes!--the thought excites her, and she's trying to contain herself, remain professional. She smiles slightly.

“I'd love to.” Neither says another word as they slog through morning paperwork.

Nick is ecstatic, a feeling that lingers for the entire day. The resulting rush of adrenaline helps him navigate the streets as they set off on a case by afternoon. When evening arrives, they trudge back to the station, triumphant but tired, clock out, head for home. But not before they agree—she'll be over in an hour.

Alone again in his apartment, Nick experiences the longest hour of his life. This could be great, we could finally...be us. An encouraging thought. Or, this could be a disaster; we could chicken out. A discouraging thought, with no offense to chickens; he's met some very brave ones in his time on the force.

It could go either way. He's about to find out which. And he's ready to do just that. He wants to do just that, despite the occasional, recurring feeling that he doesn't deserve her.

Chapter Four: “With Open Arms”

He's startled from his thoughts by a knock at the door. She's here. He answers it. There she is, smiling.

“Hi! I didn't know what to bring, so I just brought my pajamas, basic toiletries...” He stops the innocent flow of unnecessary words by lifting her, gathering her into his arms, and kissing them both senseless. He pauses only to shut the door behind them with a kick, then resumes as he carries her to the bed, laying them down gently. Finally, he eases away, reluctant.

“About that stuff you said. I doesn't really matter.” He encompasses the space with a sweep of his paw. “What's mine is yours...Heck, you already have my heart, Carrots. What's a toothbrush in the mix?” He was now catching his breath and his bearings, wrapping his brain around what this meant for them at the moment. “What's a toothbrush between…?”

“Friends-ish?” she offers, giggling, shrugging with her shoulders as well as her eyes. That makes him smile. “But, seriously—what are we?” A valid question. They consider this quietly.

Nick knows. “Lovends.” He blurts out, and continues without taking a breath. “It has the word 'ends' in it, but let's face it, I'll never stop loving you, Carrots, and now I know you feel the same, so it means that you can't tell where love begins and--”

“Where friendship ends!” she finishes, eyes shining brightly with enthusiasm.

“Exactly,” he says.

He clears his throat. “Carrots—Judy. I've been thinking about what you said; that's why I invited you here. I want to show you that we can have an 'us' away from all the city noise--” this is literal as well as figurative, and both know it, “--and once we figure out what that looks like, we can go out and deal with the world.” She us filled with pride and delight at this insight of his.

“You're absolutely right, Nick.” His ears perk up at the accolade.

“There's a phrase I could get used to,” he quips. She smacks his arm playfully.

“Well, don't,” she teases. Then, her face falls. “I'm sorry I said those things to you. I should've kept them to myself and not burdened you like that. It's no one person's fault that the city is the way it is, and fixing it isn't on your shoulders. I guess I was just—venting, and I didn't think it would get to you.”

“It is my responsibility, Judy. Somewhat,” he concedes. “Being a police officer means looking out for the greater good; you taught me that. The other day--I meant what I said; it's not suffering if we both want it. The way I see it, it's like this--we want something good to come out of being together, but we also have to take whatever bad that might come with it. And the word 'together' is in there for a reason, it means...It means lots of things. It means we help each other out. It means what's bothering you is bothering me, and vice-versa. It means that we find a way to fix whatever it is, and we do that together. And yes, it does get to me, because, yes, my motto is 'never let them see that they get to you', but I can't seem to help it when it comes to you. I don't lie or evade anymore, not with you...You really get to me, in ways that nobody else ever has. Capisce?”

There are tears in her eyes; she is clearly touched. Yet she chooses to say, “Someone's been spending way too much time with Mr. Big.” She gives him a watery smile and sniffs; he smiles, too. “Thank you, Nick.” He nods, gathering his thoughts.

“I know you were joking when you brought up Mr. Big, but it's true. Picking up Italian was a hazard of my old 'job'.” He puts air quotes around the latter word. “Now it's a perk of my new job.” Indeed, now that he's made nice with Mr. Big, the guy's always more than happy to help provide leads on hard-to-crack cases.

And right now, a smattering of Italian comes in handy. He gently, tenderly, pulls her closer. “Te amo, mi amore.” He purrs the words. Suddenly her smile is shy, and she blushes. But her eyes—those beautifully expressive eyes—are genuinely impressed.

“Nick, how'd you…?”

“The velvety pipes of Jerry Vole, of course!” he says, with an air of grandeur. Then, with a sudden snicker, he adds, “Even now, Mr. Big doesn't like me quite that much!” They both laugh; soon their laughter dissolves into passion.

Chapter Five: “Sweet Dream”

My long personal nightmare is over. Judy Hopps is spoken for—by me! He could hardly believe it. Me, Nick Wilde, confirmed bachelor, he of the bad jokes and worse tricks, can call the most upstanding—and adorable, intelligent and kind—bunny in Zootopia...my girlfriend! Our 'we' is now well and truly an 'us'. He could rest easy; as they had agreed, the rest of the world could wait.

Don't worry about when and how/Just be with me/In the here and now. One too many invitations from Clawhauser to hear the latest Gazelle song meant that it was suddenly running through his head. He was too elated to be annoyed.

“What do you say to practicing that whole 'together' idea?” Judy asked, challenge in her voice. Nick's tail swished appreciatively.

“I say, let me get back to what I was doing before we got talking.” He pretended to scratch his head—first quickly, playfully, and then...slowly, thoughtfully, deliberately raking his paw through the fur there. “Where was I?” But he knew.

He gathered her close, letting his lips brush hers for a long, lovely moment. Then, he oh-so-slightly increased his unspoken demand. As with every challenge she met, Judy rose to the occasion. The beauty of this particular challenge, Nick realizes, as he revels in the sensations coursing through him—he was back on the rollercoaster, his head spinning, his breath coming in gasps—is that it's one she truly relishes taking on. She is ever-accustomed to going after what she wants, coming out victorious. And now she wants him...as much as he wants her. The thought, along with the experience that went hand-in-hand with it, thrills him.

Then comes the calm that follows the storm. Suddenly, there is in his mind and heart a clarity that wasn't there before. He, too, is practiced at getting what he desires. To want is familiar to him. To be wanted, though, is for him a new and humbling notion. It inspires in him a need to be purely, unconditionally good. His wish is for that word to be not just an adjective, but a way of life, the way it always has been for this beautiful bunny in his arms.