jeriendhal: (Default)
 The next morning Nick woke up to the triple realization that 1) his right arm, trapped underneath  Judy’s body, had fallen asleep, 2) one of her ear tips had worked its way into his open mouth while he was sleeping and he’d started unconsciously nomming it, and finally 3) he really had to pee.

 

Cut for mild suggestiveness )
jeriendhal: (Default)
 TWO AM

 

The hours between Midnight and the grey predawn light had always been a magic time for Nick. Three quarters of Zootopia would be asleep, leaving it to the nocturnal animals like bats, raccoons and foxes. The street lights would be dimmed, and the shadows would lengthen. Sometimes Nick could walk for hours up and down the streets without seeing another soul, but knowing they were there, watching. It was something no daylight oriented mammal could really understand, that feeling in the air, the knowledge that there was a second Zootopia, occupying the same physical space as the sunlit one but so profoundly different in many ways.

 

Tonight for example, he’d taken a long walk to the tarmac two-lane road leading into town, only turning around when he’d reached the outskirts of town, listening to the crickets chirp in the grass and the occasional hoot of an owl. Then he turned back, whistling to himself and walked around the house to the back porch to catch a few winks before the Hopps clan began to wake up and start their long work day.

 

To his surprise, he found Judy waiting for him, sitting on the porch with her paws between her knees, ears flat and hanging low behind her head.

 

Bad Dreams, Bad Ideas )
jeriendhal: (Default)

Judy was sitting on a carved log stump in the backyard, diligently doing her ten (and only ten, on pain of Nick’s snark) forearm curls with a two-pound dumbbell, when her mom came up to her, bearing a pitcher of lemonade and a pair of cups on a tray.


“What’s up, Mom?” she asked, setting the dumbbell down.


Bonnie set the tray on a second nearby stump, then pulled up another to sit beside her. “Oh, just checking up on you. How’s your arm?”


Judy rubbed her shoulder and grimaced. “Weak. I’m working on it.” She looked closer at Bonnie’s troubled expression and lowered ears. “Something on your mind?”


Zootopia is built on compromises )
jeriendhal: (Default)
 The long white limousine came to a halt in on the gravel driveway in front of the farmhouse. Judy stood with Nick and her parents as Raymond, a seven foot tall polar dressed in a black limo driver suit, stepped out and opened the door, letting Kevin out. Kevin had his paws cupped carefully in front of him as he walked up to the porch, Mr. Big, Fru-Fru, and Little Judy standing in his palms.

“Mr. Big, Fru-Fru, it’s good to see you again,” Judy greeted cheerfully. Beside her Nick stood nearly frozen, a smile fixed on his face, not quite taking attention away from his panic floofed tail.

“Hello again, Judith,” Mr. Big rasped. “Thank you for letting me visit your lovely home.”

“Wouldn’t have dreamed of turning you away,” she admitted truthfully. Judy gestured to her mom and dad. “These are my parents, Bonnie and Stuart Hopps, and these are my sibs.” The four dozen or so of her brothers and sisters who had gathered on the porch to watch Mr. Big’s arrival all gave him little waves. “Mom, Dad, this is Mr. Big. He’s, ah, prominent business mammal in Zootopia, with interests in Little Rodentia and Tundra Town.”

Ahem... )
jeriendhal: (Default)
 “Run, Bun, run!” Nick shouted from the fence line, as Judy jogged along the path. She turned and waved to him and the dozen or so kits sitting on the fence, cheering her on. Two weeks of building up her endurance and she was finally able to run again, at least for short bursts.

Longer bursts, she told herself, glancing at the FitNip at her wrist, its timer running down the seconds. A full minute, you can do it!

She’d already turned and was heading back towards Nick and his entourage when the timer bleeped and she slowed down to a walking pace. Judy smiled to herself as the kits cheered and Nick beamed at her. The mere fact she was able to walk, not drag herself along in exhaustion, even after that speed burst, was enough to make her grin back at them as they cheered.

“Good going, Judy,” Nick greeted, pulling a water bottle from the cooler beside him and handing it over. “How are you feeling?”

She's fine, but Nick is about to have a panic attack )
jeriendhal: (Default)
 “I hate my body,” Judy declared. She was lying on her back in the bed in the guest room, her old room she’d shared with four of her sisters fully occupied, after the usual shift when older siblings moved out of the house. Nick sat on the edge, smiling down at her, the door propped open so no one started getting ideas about their relationship.

She’d walked back successfully, then rested like a good bunny until after lunch, when she’d walked again. This time around she actually had walked a full mile, only for Nick to make good his threat and bring her back in a wheelbarrow. Judy had been too tired and achey to argue with him, though she had insisted on walking herself up the stairs to her bed, rather than be carried.

“Think you can do it again tomorrow?” Nick asked.

“Slave driver,” she declared.

“I have a copy of The Nitwit’s Guide to Physical Therapy and I’m not afraid to use it,” he replied. “Starting a recovery program is easy. Maintaining it over time is the real slog.”

Nick hates Past Nick )
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
“It’s been a week.”

“Yes.”

“I’m not as tired as I was when we first arrived.”

“Yes.”

“I think I’m ready.”

“Yes.”

“Are you just going to keep saying ‘yes’, Nick?”

“No. Ow! Now I know you’re feeling better,” he said, rubbing his bicep where she’d punched it.

The first steps are always the hardest )
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
“I know we’re out in the sticks but come on,” Nick muttered to himself as he stared at his phone in dismay.

“What’s up, Nick?” Tommy asked, coming from inside to look over Nick curiously on the front porch.

“Need to get a Zuber ride to pick some protein from the store, but there’s no service in this area,” he replied.

“Around here Zuber is called ‘Y’all got room in the back for me?’” Tommy said with a chuckle. “I’m headin’ into town anyway to pick up some shop towels from Burrow Depot. You can come along if you want and we can swing by the Feed Lion.”

Friends and Partners )
jeriendhal: (Wazagan)
His ears weren’t as big as a certain bunny’s, but Nick was started out of his doze in the hammock, as he heard the squeak of the screen door towards the front of the house. He rolled out of the hammock and landed lightly on his foot pads, checking the time on his phone briefly. It wasn’t even 4:00 AM yet, early even by farmer bunny standards. Can’t be a burglar, he thought. The house was a good mile away from the main road, making it a fair jog for potential thieves. The Hoppses didn’t even lock their doors. So if no one is going in, someone must be going out. One guess who.

Gut punch behind the cut )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
She was pretty sure she didn't want to wake up, or maybe she was finally awake enough to realize that she shouldn't be. At any rate Judy's body was sending signals to her that she was under some pretty heavy painkillers, and that moving would definitely be a bad idea right now. The only thing she could be certain of was the feel of someone's paw, bigger than her own, holding her right paw in a light grip.

Do you know how many of my stories end with characters waking up in a hospital? )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
Bzzt, bzzt, bzzt.

"Yo, this is Finnick. Leave a message. I might get back."

"Finnick, if you're still alive, pick up the goddamn phone!"

"Mind not yellin' in my ear? I'm kinda in a tight squeeze here."

"You always answer your mobile like you've got it set to voice mail?"

"Why not? Half the time it's some guy from New Delhi tryin' to tell me about this cruise I won anyway. Whassup, Nick?"

Finnick in a fix )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
Clawhauser had been hopping, metaphorically at least, the past few hours. Coordinating the ZPD response with the Zootopia Fire Dept. as they fought the building fire in Sahara Square had been quite a job, never mind his regular dispatcher duties as he fielded calls from other officers on more routine matters. Life in the city wasn’t coming to a halt, despite the emergency with that awful Volkov character. He been so busy it had taken him a while to realize he hadn't even eaten in the past hour.

Now with the fire out, and Nick and the Hoppses were safe, there was finally a bit of slack time, and he was able to flag down Fangmeyer and have her take over for a few minutes while he went to take care of necessities. Not to mention get a soda from the vending machine to wash down his next scheduled dose of painkiller for his aching shoulder.

In Which Clawhauser is Once Again Awesome )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
The polar bear’s paw shot out, grabbing Nick by the neck and lifting him up onto his toes. “Funny little fox,” he growled. “Why should I not kill you right now?”

Nick let out a garbled cry, tapping his claw against one of the polar bear’s fingers to indicate he needed air. “Bit public here, don’t you think?” he gasped, as the bear loosened his grip. “I know your boss is all about pissing folks off enough to start a shooting war, but it’d be messy to begin it with one of his soldiers immediately getting arrested for murdering a guy in front of a hundred witnesses.”

“Fine. I take you out to dock, and toss your body into water.”

“No, you’re going to keep me alive, for the moment at least.” Nick waved his arms, trying to stretch his toes to get more air. “C’mon, Volkov wants to have some fun, am I right? Why else would he bother kidnapping Officer Hopps’ parents, instead of just shooting them too? One of your guys got whacked trying to get to her. Betcha that’s who you were waiting, wasn’t it? You don’t think Volkov would just love having a chance to do that to the famous Officer Hopps’ partner himself, after that?”

Why, yes the would. )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
Nick getting into the bar was easy. Finnick getting into the bar involved flashing three photo ID's and a loud announcement that he'd kick the bouncer's ass if he was carded one more time.

“I hate being taken for a kit,” the little fox muttered when they finally got through the door.

“Yeah, I can understand that,” Nick agreed cheerfully, the triple espresso he'd drank being enough revive him for at least the next hour or so. “By the way, you still wearing your elephant onesie when you sleep?”

Finnick glared at him. “You try finding adult pajamas when you're this damn small.” Then he added reluctantly, “Besides, it's comfy.”

So two foxes walk into a bar.... )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
News: I'm getting fanart!!

* * *

When Chief Bogo arrived at Zootopia General, it was already a scene of controlled chaos. Six police cruisers had the street in front of the hospital blocked off, and a team of forensics sloths were diligently placing numbered markers and snapping pictures in the parking garage, recording the evidence of each shot Clawhauser had fired at the vehicle.

Clawhauser himself was sitting on the curb, one arm in a sling, the other holding an oxygen mask to his face and breathing deeply under the supervision of a tiger paramedic. He started to get up, but sat again when Bogo waved him down. The desk sergeant’s face looked as bad, if not worse, than the time during the Night Howler crisis when Bogo had to transfer him off his beloved front desk and back down into Records.

“Report, Clawhauser,” Bogo ordered. “What the hell happened?”

Bogo tries to get a handle on things, with a little help )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
Bonnie had fallen asleep, cuddled with Stu on the padded lounge chair one of the nurses had dragged into the hospital room for them. When she awoke the room lights had been dimmed down, and she could see the sun had set, leaving only the light of the streetlights outside. Someone had tossed a blanket over them both, and she found herself not wanting to crawl out from under it just yet.

Glancing over to Judy, she could see that there was no change. She just laid there, the respirator making her chest rise and fall like a well pump. Watching it, Bonnie felt her nose twitch in agitation. The thought occurred to her that it not be Judy there anymore. Maybe it was just her body now, and they were simply biding time before giving into the inevitable and turning off the switch.

No. Judy had believed in being a police officer, had wanted it so hard that she made it happen, despite all the odds against her. If she wouldn’t give up on herself, I’m not going to either.

Things go to hell, but Clawhauser is awesome )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
“Honestly, Stu. Can't you go any faster? People are passing us,” Bonnie said urgently. She grabbed for the oh, carrots strap beside the door as an 18-wheeler zoomed by them in the highway's right lane, setting the old farm truck rocking in its wake.

“I go any faster I'll overheat the engine, you know that. We only bought this one to run produce over to the stand,” Stu said, keeping his eyes on the road. “Told ya we needed a new truck.”

“We needed the tractor repaired more,” she said. Which was true, but what she wouldn't give for one of those fancy SUV's now, instead of this twenty-year old rusty dusty pickup truck. They'd been on the road six hours now, and she couldn't help but think it would have just been faster to take the train, but when Nick's call had come all either of them could think of was getting out the door now.

Time keeps running out. )
jeriendhal: (Marty Greycoat)
Nick had to get some sleep. He knew he had to get some sleep. This shift had started over twenty-four hours ago. He and Judy had just been ready to drive back to the station at the end of their normal twelve hours when he had spotted the Russian polar bear climbing out of an SUV and heading down towards one of the warehouses by the docks. Why the hell hadn't he just let the guy go on his merry way was beyond his ability to reason now. Of course once he had pointed him out to Judy there was no stopping her from following the bear to see what he was up to.

Never get Family involved in Business )
jeriendhal: (Ali)
This is probably the third or fourth variation of this scene I've written since coming up with Ali's character. I think this one is going to be canon though.

* * *

Melanie sat back in the captain's quarters, on the ridiculously elaborate throne made of woven reeds, wearing her ridiculous blood red bikini top and harem pants, and tried to control the shuddering that threatened to overwhelm her.

They were shooting at us, she thought. They were shooting at me.

No one ever said being Captain would be easy )

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