Funbun Season Update 4

>Nick beats Judy to work by a few minutes
>is idly chatting with Clawhouser when he sees her come in and waves in his usual smug way
>she stares for an awkwardly long moment before scampering off toward the bullpen
>a look of dreadful understanding crosses Clawhouser's face while Nick is just confused
>Clawhouser awkwardly tries to explain what he'd read about rabbits in some women's interest magazine

Nick blinked, not quite comprehending. "Wait, why were you--"

Clawhouser held up a paw, cutting him off. "Ahp ahp ahp! Doesn't matter! What does is that...ahaha...you, my friend..." He steepled his paws, grinning in nervous sympathy. "...YOU have a problem."

"Me," Nick repeated flatly, folding his ears back a bit. It was Carrots' private life, as far as Nick was concerned. He'd already heard all the rabbit jokes and wasn't exactly new to lewder side  of the web. He knew the odds that even a naive little fuzzball like Judy didn't have a few "release valves" hidden under her bed were laughably low. Nick just didn't want his partner's sex life to be watercooler talk. Or the idea that she was something he had to "fix" getting around,  wherever the hell it was coming from.

"Yes!" Clawhouser extended both of his chubby arms, paws upturned as if pleading with Nick. "When bunnies feel the need to, well, breed, they don't go looking very far, if you get what I'm sayinnnngggg...."

He trailed off suggestively. Nick frowned, tilting his head and squinting at the fat cheetah. Then he jerked back, eyes snapping wide open. Clawhouser just clicked his tongue, slowly shaking his head as the objections came pouring out.

"What, are you nuts? I'm a fox! She's a bunny! We can't even...I mean, why would she even--"

"It doesn't matter. Bunny hormones~" Clawhouser sing-songed out, fingers now crisscrossed beneath his double chins, his considerable weight propped up on two elbows. Then he started singing for real, shoulders jerking back and forth with the rhythm. "You are a guy. She is a girl. Could it get aaanymore oobvious?~"

Clawhouser's impromptu cover mercifully fuzzed out along with everything else. Nick's mind reeled as the implications really hit home. He wasn't sure whether to be annoyed, angry, or appalled. It was like he'd been plopped down into one of those "progressive" modern sitcoms FruFru kept pushing him to watch. With his best friend and partner, Judy Hopps. Who was probably waiting for him in the bullpen. Apparently horny as hell and completely off her rocker.

Nick swallowed back a powerful urge to throw up, and the world slowly swam back into focus. Along with Clawhouser.

"...but the rest of the song is kind of a downer, you know? So maybe I should have gone with something from Tyger Swift. But, like, half her stuff is about nasty break-ups, and I just don't like thinking about that kind of thing--"

Nick turned and stalked off toward the bullpen, leaving the oblivious butterball to prattle on alone. Nick ended up pausing in front of the door, staring at the metal knob with an intense distrust. If Clawhouser was right--and Nick suspected he was--this was about to get really awkward, really fast. Because Nick sure as hell did not know how to handle this. A very uncomfortable  scenario began playing itself out in his head.

-------------

"Oh, h-hey, Nick. Beat you again, today, h-hah...hah...." Judy glanced away, clearly hot-under-the-collar about something and completely unlike her normal self. Nick tried not to grimace as he pulled himself up into the chair they shared. He was suddenly rethinking the merits of little their seating arrangement.

"...Yyyyup."

There was an awkward pause. Nick stared ahead and pretended not to notice the furtive little glances Judy kept sending his way. Then he felt her scoot a fraction closer. And then another. And another. Her shoulder touched his own. Nick flinched and forced down yelp.

Judy's voice was softer than he remembered. Breathier. "Hey," she murmured, leaning in just a little. To Nick, it felt like a whole hell of a lot. He risked a glance down at the rabbit.

Judy was smiling up at him, those big violet eyes almost sparkling. The worry that crumpled his brow wasn't deterring her in the least. "I was thinking, after we're done with whatever Bogo's got...." She shrugged a little too casually. "Maybe we could, I dunno, do something together?" She inched closer.  "Tonight?"

Nick usually liked when Judy's little cotton tail got all wiggly. He found it pretty adorable--and maybe just a tad more fascinating than he should. But right now it was only fuel for his growing sense of dread.

"Oh, I don't know," Nick quickly chuckled out, not quite hitting the languid note he'd been going for. The fox tore his eyes away from the bunny, throwing up his old smug persona even as the internal screaming began. "I've got...plans. With Finnick."

The excuse sounded lame as soon as he said it, and Judy almost pounced on the chance to blow it full of holes.

"You liar," she whispered. It sounded husky, almost naughty. "We both know he's still mad at you for that parking ticket last week."

Nick couldn't stop his eyes from darting back down, a slick little diversion suddenly springing to mind. His ticket out of this lusty bunny madness. Those words died on Nick's lips as he realized his greatest mistake yet. Judy's little button nose was so very close to his neck now. Then it wiggled. Oh, God, it wiggled. Nick nearly died.

That pause was all Judy needed. "Hey, listen." Nick's body went rigid as Judy settled her weight against his side. He was suddenly very aware of how much warmer she felt.

"It doesn't have to be anything big. Just...come on over to my place, you know?" Something came over her, then. An almost sly little look that scared the hell out of Nick. Ears laying back, she went in for the kill.

"I'll make it worth your while~"

Every bit of fur on Nick's body stood on end. He scrambled back, away from the bunny with bedroom eyes, letting slip a very foxish, very undignified yip.

His retreat was futile. Judy was propped up on one arm now, her shoulders angled saucily. She giggled. And much to Nick's horror, the bunny slid right back up against him. Forcing the panicked fox all the way back until he hung over the chair's edge.

"What's the matter, Wilde?" she cooed, reaching up and oh so gently stroking the underside of his muzzle. Nick felt himself shudder, just barely. Judy clearly didn't miss it. Her sensual smile turned into a lustful grin.

"Afraid of having a little fun with your favorite bunnn...s?~"

Nick couldn't answer even if he trusted himself to try. Judy pressed the advantage. Along with her cheek, right into Nick's chest. Her arms wrapped around the fox and held him tight. He couldn't breathe.

"How about it, Wilde? Hmm? Wilde~"

"...Wilde?"

"Wilde!"

The clipboard smacked Nick right in the cheek. Glorious reality jolted back into place as he staggered away, blinking and rubbing the side of his face. The fox was back outside of the bullpen, with a very annoyed Bogo towering over him. Nick had never been happier to see the guy.

"Wilde." The chief blew a bit of air out his nostrils, frowning down at Nick even harder than usual. "If you're done blocking my door...?"

He pointed at the bullpen's doorknob with that same clipboard. To Nick's credit, his dumb stare only lasted for maybe half a second.

"Uh, right. Yeah. Sorry, Chief." Nick cleared his throat and nimbly stepped aside. No especially witty excuses came to mind just then. "Was just thinking about...uh...."

Bogo's eyes went half-mast as he grabbed the doorknob. "Wilde, I don't care, don't want to know. And can already guess just fine."

The water buffalo gestured down at the fox's pants. "Get yourself under control before you head in." Bogo rolled his eyes and stepped through the door. "I don't know how Hopps can work with you, sometimes."

After that wonderful exchange, an embarrassed Nick had paced back and forth out in the hall, thinking very hard about his intense distaste for everything grapefruit. He shot a glare back toward the front desk. Toward the one who put all this madness in his head in first place. Clawhouser, bless his soul, was too busy chatting up a fellow officer to notice. Nick just growled under his breath and glanced down. At least that was one problem out of the way.

About a minute later, Nick slipped into the bullpen and quietly took his seat. Bogo continued what he was doing at the front board and ignored him. More unexpectedly, so did Judy.

Nick pretended to pay attention as the announcements began. But his gaze kept sliding back to the rabbit. She was staring straight ahead, ears up and alert, both paws folded neatly on the desk in front of her. The irony of the reversal wasn't lost on Nick, but it was odd behavior for Judy. He frowned a little.

"Hey, Carrots," he whispered, giving her a little nudge with his elbow.

Nick felt her stiffen. "H-hey." Those violet eyes met his own for just the briefest moment. And Nick's heart skipped a beat.

Was that fear he saw?

Maybe he was imagining things. Judy was back to listening as Bogo droned on about 'that damn sloth again' as if nothing had happened. But then there was that tiny little gulp that followed. And the way she kept scooting away little by little. By the time Bogo finished handing out assignments, Judy was already teetering on edge of the seat, away from Nick. When the group was dismissed,
Judy was the first one out the door. She didn't even give her partner a passing glance.

As he sat at the desk, the rest of the force filing out around him, Nick just stared after he vanished bunny. This hadn't gone at all like he'd feared. In fact, everything had worked out smoothly. Very easy, very tidy, all without him even trying.

But Nick wasn't sure he liked it any better.

------------------

The rest of the day had gone about the same. Nick didn't catch it back in the bullpen, but he and Judy were assigned to...traffic duty. Safe, predictable, boring old traffic duty. Not exactly Nick's favorite, but it let him shoot the breeze with Judy in their squad car for hours on end with maybe the odd short-lived speed chase to liven things up.

At least that was how it was supposed to go.

But today his partner had been all business and no fun. Dutifully manning the radar gun (insisting on it, in fact), printing tickets by rote, and doing her damnedest to shut down every quip and shot at small talk Nick sent her way.

"Yes, Nick."
"No, Nick."
"That's nice, Nick."
"I have to focus right now, Nick."
"I'm not hungry. Go get yourself something without me, Nick."

Eventually the fox had given up trying and the two of them just drove around the Downtown area in silence. It was tense and awkward and Nick hated every second of it. Worse, Judy's newfound stoicism did little to fool his powerful canine nose; the bunny was practically burning with frustration. The strictly emotional kind as far as Nick could tell, thank God. But he wasn't about to go digging for an answer too deeply there. Not just yet. The memory of that morning fantasy was a bit too strong.

Still, as the hours passed, a treacherous little corner of the fox's mind began to opine that maybe--just maybe--a slightly frisky Judy wouldn't have been such a bad alternative after all. Just enough for bit of playful banter. Some slight innuendoes, even. Little jokes the two could laugh off and never have to worry about. It was a speed Nick could handle just fine. That voice was getting noticeable by noontime, when Nick found himself ordering drive-thru for one. It was a whole lot louder once mid-afternoon rolled in and the rabbit still wouldn't even look his way. Maybe it was the total lack of engagement talking, but Nick was starting find that little voice dangerously reasonable.

By this point, the pair had meandered their way down into the streets of Sahara Square. The sandy riverside beaches and abundant entertainment venues made the desert district a favorite among tourists and natives alike. And without fail, there would always be half a dozen poor sods who forgot to fill their parking meters. Nick was taking his turn at the wheel while Judy typed something out on the squad car laptop. Hammered out, actually. That frustration Nick noticed earlier was only getting worse as time went on.

It must have been a hell of a distraction for her, because the bunny didn't even notice when her partner finally maneuvered off the main road and toward one of the smaller riverside byways. A lack of any real traffic kept their route from ever coming this way. Nick drove them down the scenic stretch for a good while, one casual paw on the wheel as he stole half-lidded glances at his partner unaware. It gave him time to ponder the best approach. Because the fox was getting pretty tired of today's little runaround routine.

Some minutes later, Judy finally did look up, blinking in surprise and jerking her gaze about as the squad car slid into an empty little beachside parking lot. Nick set it in park and propped his feet up on the dashboard, pretending to ignore his partner as she tried to get her bearings straight.

"...Nick, where are we? Where's the route?" She looked at him--finally, and for only a moment--then unbuckled and crawled around on her seat for a view of the empty road.

Well. That had worked.

"Oh, back about, hmmm, ten miles?" Nick shrugged as he set the seatback down a bit and got comfortable. The fox rummaged around for his aviator shades, feeling maybe a little too satisfied about Judy's newest expression. Incredulity? Annoyance? It was a step up either way.

"Are you serious right now?" Judy frowned at him, ears folded back as she knelt on her seat cushion. Nick flicked open and donned his sunglasses in one smooth motion. The sunlight pouring in through the windshield glinted off the silvered lenses.

"Looks like it." He idly turned his head toward the bunny and gave her a smile. By Nick's calculations, there was juuuust enough smug in it to press the right number of bunny buttons. It was easy to imagine Judy's twin reflections glaring right back at her. He made a show of lazy indifference. "Come on, Carrots, you've been working hard today. Let's take a break." Nick casually pressed a button on his door's armrest, bringing both of their windows down with an electric whirr. "Sit back and feel that nice ocean breeze."

"Nick, we're on duty." Judy's flat tone was undermined by a slight warble. Nick could smell her frustration sharpen. It was quickly being joined by something else he couldn't quite place just yet. Fear, again? Nick's eyes, hidden behind the shades, narrowed just a fraction.

When her partner didn't answer, the rabbit huffed and fiddled with her own panel. Her window didn't get up more than two inches before the fox reached forward and killed the ignition.

"Nick!"

"Yes?"

Judy banged a fisted paw into the door's arm rest and rolled her whole self away from Nick with an angry jerk. She sat there silently, curled up with her side cradled against the backrest, ears limp behind her. Nick could imagine the daggers she was glaring out at nothing. He held his gaze on her back, the very picture of serene expectation, and waited. A minute passed, and Judy shifted a little.

"...Please...."

The word was shaky and soft and came through gritted teeth. That gave Nick pause, his ears perked in slight alarm as Judy's little body began to quiver.

"Please, Nick."

The warble was back, stronger now. Judy hugged herself and curled up tighter. Nick's stomach bottomed out as he suddenly recognized that second scent. Rather, three scents mingled together and masked as one. An exotic mixture he had never found before.

Fear, yes.

Desire, all too true.

Desperation, undeniably.

Judy slowly turned her head and cast a hesitant look over her shoulder. At him. With wide violet eyes. "Not this," she whimpered. "Not today."

Nick sat frozen, the fur on the back of his neck bristling. His lips parted just a fraction and then sealed shut again. From behind the mirrored shades, the fox blinked hard. It took a lot of effort not to flinch, even just a bit. He locked his muscles into place almost on instinct, not trusting them for a moment.

Sweet cheese and crackers.

The plan, when it had come together ever-so-naturally in his mind, had been simple and elegant. Nick would gently torment the little wound-up bunny until she lost her cool. An angry Judy would grouse at him until she finally ran out of steam and broke down, laying everything out in the open at last. Then they would talk about it and slowly but surely work things out. Reconcile whatever was going on--whether it had to do with bunny hormones and crazy unnatural desires or not--and then move on with their lives. Maybe they would even get around to that easy flirting that Nick was pretty sure he could handle. It was a maneuver that had worked more than once, in one form or another, and the fox liked to think he was getting pretty good at it.

He had known it could backfire. In his mind, Nick could see Judy giving him the cold shoulder for the rest of the day, and then maybe the next week for good measure. It had happened before. Rarely, when the fox had really messed things up, when he'd said just the dumbest thing at the worst moment, and had to court her forgiveness with those little favors and silent apologies he knew she liked. But Nick also knew that the rabbit worked hard to hold a grudge for very long at all. Judy was too open, too caring, too nice to wallow in those caustic emotions. It was a calculated risk; a bet that an old gambling hand like Nick was comfortable taking.

Nick, apparently, had thought wrong. Because an angry Judy he could handle. A venting little grump of a bunny, all the more so. Easy street. Even a lust-crazed rabbit trying to pin him to his seat and yank loose his belt was a contingency he had planned for--Nick just really hoped it wouldn't come to that. But a horny little Carrots, scared out of her wits and humiliated to hell and back?

The fox's heart broke.

"...Ah...shoot," her murmured in a voice almost too soft to hear. Nick finally moved, setting his feet down and sitting up. Pulling his shades away and then reaching for her with his paw. "Judy, I--"

Judy flinched away from him. She scooted further toward the passenger door, eyes widening just a fraction more and then averting in shame. Nick's paw froze halfway up and quickly retreated to the back of his neck. An awkward silence ensued as he stared at her and tried to think of something to say. Judy was the one who spoke first.

"I'm sorry."

Her voice was a soft whimper, tinged with a deep remorse. Judy hunched her shoulders and pulled her knees up into her chest. "I'm a stupid idiot. Didn't mean that...."

Nick slowly sucked a breath in through his nose. "Carrots," he began, so very carefully. A pause as he thought. Then a sigh as the rest came out.

"Judy." He didn't often use her name. Just when he really needed to make a point or get her attention. From the way her flopped-back ears gave a little twitch, Nick could see it had worked. He pressed on. "Talk to me, please. That's all I'm asking." He shook his head a little. "I'm flying blind here."

Judy squeezed her eyes shut and shook her head with seemingly all her might. "No. I won't,"  she muttered, sounding stubborn and despondent at the same time. "Can't. You'll hate me."

Despite it all, Nick almost let out a little laugh. A humorless little huff of incredulity. "That's impossible," he grunted. The fox considered making a light jab harkening back to that disastrous news conference a year ago. Nick was more than over it by now, and the idea that Judy could screw up any worse than that seemed pretty remote. But as he gazed at the miserable little rabbit, Nick couldn't bring himself to jab or joke or tease. Instead, he coaxed.

"Carrots, seriously. I won't get mad." Nick's smile was honest, his eyes open and bright and trusting. His whole demeanor held nary a trace of smug. "I swear. Scout's honor."

Judy didn't look at him but did chuff softly. A sign of some good humor, Nick hoped. "You weren't a scout," she grunted. "Not official."

Nick felt a twinge of hurt. Old wounds and such, but he knew Judy didn't mean anything. Nick let it slide. "So I didn't get through the whole oath. Details." He tilted his head, even if Judy couldn't see it. "You know I'm one at heart."

"...Yeah...." A tiny smile tugged at her mouth. Nick's heart leapt a little in his chest. "Still a better cop now than you were a con-man."

"Ouch. Bunny's still got her bite," he chuckled with obvious approval. And was rewarded with a shy look from the rabbit, right over a little round shoulder.

In that moment, Judy looked so soft and vulnerable that Nick wanted for all the world just to scoop her up into his arms and hug her close. To tell her it would all be alright and then everything was going to work out great, no matter what she feared in that little bunny heart of hers.

But the fox couldn't and he knew it. As much as Nick didn't was loathe to admit, at the end of it all he was still a predator. Judy's predator, to be precise. What a strange day it had been when he had realized that maybe, just maybe, that was the reason why he understood her so well. Nick always had this sixth sense about the rabbit. He knew what would make her laugh, or smile, or gnash her teeth in annoyance. Or cower back in fear.

Judy might have been the bravest bunny Nick knew. But she was still a bunny, and hers were a skittish people. Move too quickly and they would spook and hop off and hide away in their little burrows. Metaphorically if not literally. So Nick, in all of the wisdom granted  to him by ancient instinct, chose to move slowly. He had seen his partner's smile, her little peek of trust.

It was a start he could live with.

Nick just sat back against his door and waited patiently, idly thumbing the rim of his shades. After a few false starts, some opening and closing of the mouth as she reconsidered and mulled, Judy spoke again.

"It's just...embarrassing," she muttered, letting out a tiny grunt. Again the rabbit looked away. Focusing on the dashboard, on the doorhandle...on anything else that wasn't Nick, it seemed. "Really stupid. Dumb bunny stuff, I guess." She shrugged half-heartedly.

"I dunno, Carrots," Nick mused. "We've been partners for...oh, about a year now." He let a little smug back into his voice. "I'm basically an expert in 'dumb bunny stuff' these days."

Judy shifted a bit in her seat. "Not with this, I bet," came her murmur. Her stubbornness was wearing down into something closer to tired apathy. The fox knew her well.

Nick's response came easy and quick, a gentle challenge. "Try me."

Judy's scoff was quiet but telltale. It was her white flag of surrender and Nick made no move to joke or jest. He just sat patiently and waited for the rabbit to gather her thoughts.

"We bunnies...." Judy trailed off, then gave a weak little chuckle. Not much more than a scoff. "We're good at multiplying."

"So I've heard."

"Hmm." Judy's soft paws fiddled with the buckle of her undone seatbelt. The metal ring clacked a couple of times against something on her side of the car, out of Nick's view. Then Judy let out a slow sigh. "...When girl bunnies reach a certain age, we start getting these, uh...urges." A pause, then more awkward clacking ensued. "Kind of a biological clock sort of thing, I guess."

"Bunnies want to make babies," Nick surmised, carefully reigning back the smug and letting the gentleness flow forth.

"Yeah," Judy admitted, not sounding super happy about it. She ventured a glance back at Nick, who just gave her the most supportive smile he could. "Not really breaking news, is it?"

Nick just shrugged helplessly and half nodded at her to continue. So she did, her hesitant pace picking up a little.

"It's not so bad, most of the time," Judy mused. She shifted a little, seeming to get herself a little more comfortable. "Just once or twice a year things get so...crazy. I remember how dad would try and lock down the whole house. Made sure my older brothers and sisters wouldn't go out and do anything dumb."

Curiosity got the better of Nick. "Did it work?"

That actually got a small laugh out of the rabbit. Nick could hear the tinge nostalgic affection in it.  "I was an aunt like fifty times over by the time I could walk. Poor Dad tried his best, but I think Mom gave up a while ago."
Another small sigh. Just the barest wiggle of Judy's fluffy tail. "The family just keeps getting bigger every year."

"Wow." Nick tilted his head a little. "So, I'm guessing you guys get hitched early a lot, huh?" The fox tilted his head a little. He hadn't really considered the family life of the average bunny. His only gauge was one career-driven partner who always talked about introducing him to her folks but somehow never got around to it.

"It happens," Judy admitted. "Less than you'd think." At Nick's raised brow she adds, "Helping take care of two hundred brothers and sisters kind of, I don't know, maybe it turns you off from having your own kids for a while? My mom says it 'satisfies the maternal instinct.' But I can't remember one bunny over twenty back home who wasn't married."

"Except for you, anyway."

That did it. Judy flinched a little, and Nick's ears immediately splayed back. Oh, hell. Now he'd done it. Gotten a little too comfortable, said something stupid, pushed the wrong button, and now Judy was going to shut down again.

Only she didn't. Much to the fox's surprise, the Judy turned over in her seat and stared at him. With those big violet eyes, brimming with an intensity that was almost frightening. "...Yeah, except for me, Nick." There was a certain sadness in her voice. Paired with a very tired frustration.

The awkwardness was back, but different now and maybe even worse than before. Nick did well when he was the one in control. When Judy was squirming and confessing while he played the understanding, sympathetic partner. But now Nick was gazing into those eyes and feeling that, suddenly, he was the one being put on the spot. He didn't like it, but there was no escape from that violet gaze. Instead the fox froze up, any easy or clever little comment or coaxing just snuffing right out.

"...Yeah?" Nick cleared his throat. "Well you are kind of uh, a mold-breaker," he manages. The fox really hoped that hadn't sounded as lame as he thought it did.

Judy shook her head. It was a soft, languid action. His awkward stumbling didn't seem to bother her. Nick half wished it had. Maybe then she would look away. "It's not that, Nick. I mean...kind of." Judy shrugged a little. "Growing up, I just didn't want to focus on boys or dating or, you know. All that really dumb bunny stuff. Was pretty sure I'd end up like my mom that way."

Understanding dawned in Nick's mind and tugged at the corners of his face. "And you wanted to be a cop," he murmured, nodding a little. Though Nick had yet to meet them, Judy had already told him a few stories about her family. Listening to her was like going through a checklist of all the old bunny stereotypes. Generations of (mostly) carrot farmers with a deep and abiding love of the countryside. Lived in underground burrows (of some sort; Judy had skimped on the details). Had a family tree that grew so fast it might as well have been part weed. Over three hundred brothers and sisters and so many more aunts and uncles. No city rabbits ever achieved those numbers, but Nick knew bunny birth control was a booming business for a reason. "Can't do that if you settle."

"Settle hard," Judy murmured.  At Nick's bemused blink, she elaborated with a small grunt. "That's what my parents called what they did. I always figured it was in the DNA." She offered Nick just the smallest self-deprecating smile. "It wasn't worth the risk."

"Ah." Nick finally did find the willpower to look out the windshield. While his thumbs toyed with his shades, Nick's sharp fox mind hashed out the details pretty quickly. "So every year you just kind of ride this out, huh? Sounds pretty rough, even for a tough little bunny like you." He made sure there was an edge of pride in there. Poor little thing needed some positive approval right about then, Nick figured.

Judy's reply wasn't immediate. Nick glanced back to find those ever-so-slightly uneven incisors of hers nervously chewing at a lip. He could see that she's trying to decide something. Whether to move forward and say something or just leave things as is. Then the slow inhale tells him Judy's made her choice. "...This is actually the first time it's been this bad," she admitted, sounding incredibly guilty.

Nick just blinked, eyebrows creasing just a little. That vague feeling of unease was flaring up into dread again. Something about the way Judy was looking at him, so very apologetic, was setting off the warning lights. "Okaaaay," Nick cautiously acknowledged.  "So, why's that?"

It suddenly got so much worse. Because she was smiling now, just a little. Such a cute and strangely sad sort of thing. And Judy's cheeks were flushing as she scrunched up her shoulders and hugged herself at the elbows. What she said next made the fox's heart nearly stop.

"Because you're here, Nick."