Author's Notes: Revised from the original as of Dec. 3, 2016. The overall concept is the same, but I attempted to improve the execution. More notes at the bottom.

Today is the day. The day Nick is finally going to make his feelings absolutely clear to Judy. His previous attempts to be subtle about it (and even some unsubtle ones, for that matter) had all failed spectacularly, so there was nothing left but to just come out and tell her, in no uncertain terms, what he felt.

Nick has been running through the conversation over and over again in his head. He considered every different possibility for how she might react, and developed detailed contingency plans for each. It was a skill he had developed in his days as a con artist, and while he feels bad using it on Judy, especially for something this important, he knows he can't bring himself to bring up the subject at all unless he feels absolutely certain that the conversation would not be a complete unmitigated disaster.

"Judy, we need to talk."

Her ears perk up at the very mention of her name, as she knows that he only calls her that when he's very serious. She looks at him with an inquisitive expression, giving him her full attention.

"I've been thinking about… us. I've only known you for a few months, but in that short time you've completely changed my life for the better. And… I think I love you."

"Nick, you know I love you too, but what are you getting at?", Judy says, though it's clear from her expression, she has a pretty good idea what he is getting at, but is sort of hoping it isn't what she thinks it is."

"I mean I think it's time we took our relationship to the next level."

She smiles awkwardly. "You mean like, dating? Um... I appreciate the thought, but I don't really think there would be any point to that."

Nick is slightly puzzled by her attitude and her choice of words, but decides to stick to the plan for now. The closest possibility to this he had rehearsed for when playing it out in his head, was for her to say, "I don't think that's really a good idea". It's not a perfect match, but he can't think of anything else, so he gives his rehearsed response:

"What, is it your parents? Are you afraid they wouldn't approve of us?"

"No, it's not really that, it's just… How would it be different than what we already have now? We're already as close as can be. We spend all our time together and share all our secrets. What is there to be gained from this? What positive difference would it actually make?

Nick had counted on the extreme intimacy of their current friendship to factor into the conversation in some way, and he was hoping to use it as an argument in favor of taking the relationship to the next level. But he hadn't expected it to factor into the conversation so soon, and he certainly hadn't expected her to use it to argue so aggressively against the idea. It seemed like Judy was trying to head off this conversation as quickly as she could. And his plan was going off the rails, fast. But he wasn't ready to give up just yet, and in her words he saw an opening to play one last trump card. So Nick puts on a wide grin and says:

"Well, I can certainly think of at least one way it would be different."

"What do you mean by…?"

Nick raises one eyebrow suggestively.

Judy freezes. Her eyes go wide with realization, and her ears shoot straight up. Nick can see her blushing even through her fur. But after a couple seconds, she recomposes herself and says:

"Oh, um… that. I've, umm... never really been interested in that."

"Really?", Nick says with a surprised expression, unable to tell whether or not she was being serious. But he quickly puts a grin back on and teases, "But I thought you rabbits were just all about–"

"–Nick, that stereotype is really offensive! And it's too late for that now, anyway. I got fixed years ago".

"Wait, what do you mean, 'fixed'?"

"You know, fixed."

Nick's eyes go wide, his ears flat against his head. He had thought he had prepared for every possible turn this conversation might take. But he certainly was not prepared for this. For once in his life, Nicholas Wilde is completely at a loss for words. He opens his mouth to speak, closes it again, and just stares. Finally, he just says:

"...Seriously?"

Judy sighs, her ears droop, and she stares down at the floor. She isn't really comfortable talking about this, but it's clear to her that this isn't going to be resolved until she explains everything.

"Nick, we bunnies are normally in heat almost all the time. There's no way I could possibly have pursued a career as demanding as police work with that amount of... um, distraction."

"Almost all the time?! Really? …I'd heard about that, but... I assumed it was an exaggeration. I mean, I knew it was more often than us foxes, but I figured it couldn't actually be more than about 4 times a year."

"It really isn't an exaggeration. Bunnies are literally in heat for about 26 days out of every month".

Nick just freezes there, his mouth gaping open, for several seconds. Then,

"Does this mean you also weren't joking about having over 400 siblings?"

"No. You thought I was joking?"

"I... think I need to sit down. This is a lot to take in all at once."

Nick sits down and stares at the floor, utterly bemused. After what seems like longer than it probably actually is, he looks up and says:

"Wow, I knew you were dedicated, but... you actually had them cut out your... parts... for the sake of your job?!"

"Well, not just for my job. Nick, you don't know what it's like to be an unspayed female rabbit! The incessant urges… the false pregnancies… the irritability… and the doctor said if I didn't have it done, I had an eighty percent chance of getting uterine cancer by age fifty. Eighty percent! I really don't like those odds! Anyway, it's not that uncommon for bunnies to get fixed. Very common, actually. It's the only way we can keep our population growth down to a sane rate, given that the average bunny couple under age 40 can have up to 12 children a month."

Nick looks back at the floor. He hadn't expected anything like this. The plan is pretty much out the window at this point, but he has to at least try to lighten the mood. So he lifts his head and says with a weak smile:

"...Well, I do remember a while back that skinny old timberwolf that used to host The Price is Bite – what was his name again, Bob Howler? – I think he sorta went on a population control kick. He was always signing off with, 'Help control the population! Have your self spayed or neutered!' But I didn't think that actually caught on..."

More awkward silence. Then, Judy looks straight at Nick, with an uncomfortable, slightly pleading forced smile on her face, and says,

"So… uh, wanna never speak of this again?"

Nick pauses, looking worn out and slightly traumatized. Then he finally says.

"Yeah, I think that's probably for the best."

Even more awkward silence, that seems to drag on forever. Until Judy, desperate to move away from the subject, suddenly says,

"You wanna go out and get something to drink?"

Nick continues to stare blankly through Judy, with glazed eyes. He doesn't initially seem to have heard, but after several seconds he finally blinks and says,

"...Yeah, let's go. Honestly, I think I could use a stiff drink right about now."

END.

Author's Notes:

First off, I'd like to thank TVTropes users Malco and DeathsApprentice for providing feedback and advice for earlier versions of the story, and Berserker88 for providing the "Price is Bite" pun. I'd also like to thank TVTropes in general, both for documenting a wide variety of plot devices that are useful for any writer, and also for its "Wild Mass Guessing" page for Zootopia that incubated many of the strange headcanons that eventually converged in this story.

In case you were wondering, Shrew Carey continues to extol the virtues of population control to The Price is Bite viewers even to this day.

UPDATE-DEC-03-2016:

Attempted to improve execution of the story. I removed some (unintentionally) awkward wording, while taking care to maintain the awkwardness of the conversation itself. I think the characters' voices feel more accurate now.

I also incorporated a few more weird rabbit facts to increase the shock value and comedic impact while also making it more clear why Judy needed to be spayed. The rabbit reproductive system is a freakish, strange, and hyperactive thing. The constant hormones telling them to mate are only the start; they really can have up to 12 kits in a month (though average litter size is closer to half of that), they really are known to randomly have "false pregnancies" (where, despite not having mated, their abdomen swells up and they start lactating), and they really do have a shocking 80% rate of reproductive cancer by the age of 5 (I adjusted the 5 up to 50, though really it should probably have been lower than that since the average lifespan of a (fixed) domestic rabbit is about 8-12 years).