Chapter 11 - One. Two. Three.

The clock read 3:17 when he was able to calm himself enough to look at it.

The cold sweat, the racing heart beat, the slow realization of where he was: all far too common feelings, especially at this hour.

He couldn't remember the last time he'd had a full, uninterrupted night's sleep. The better part of twenty years was his closest guess, but he wasn't able to pin an exact start to it. Right after his parents had been killed and he'd started fending for himself, the temporary relief from the waking world that sleep was supposed to bring had been stolen from him.

He wiped the sweat into his brow as he took another haggard breath, squeezing his fingers against his eyes.

It was frustrating, more than anything else. He'd just experienced what he was confident in calling one of the best days of his life, and yet his usual routine of sleepless nights persisted. The dreams that were the source of his torment always danced just outside the realm of conscious thought, but never materialized for him once he was awake. He never knew what was causing him such distress, and as such was unable to do anything about it except carry on. It was a routine that he had fallen into a long time ago. Waking several times in the middle of the night to the sound of his own screaming had at first exhausted him, but over the years it became as routine as anything else in his life, just another part of who he was.

Not even Finnick had bothered him about it while they were sharing the van. The smaller fox had quickly become accustomed to the nightly distress of his partner, and had done his level best to ignore it. He knew there was nothing to be done, and figured that the best thing he could do was to do nothing at all. It was a worrisome pattern that had existed in Nick's life from what may as well have been day one; why try to do anything at all if nothing was going to change?

But things had changed. At least, he hoped they had. His newfound relationship with his partner was one that brought him more joy than anything before it, and he was equally excited and terrified to explore everything that was sure to come with it.

She'd told him that she loved him, so that was certainly a pretty big revelation.

Honestly? It scared the shit out of him.

He took a deep breath and swung his legs out over the pullout bed he was using. They'd both retired to their own rooms shortly after Judy's admission, as Nick couldn't do much more than blink owlishly at her as he pulled her into a bone-crushing embrace. He hadn't answered her with words, a choice he was sure he'd regret at some point in the near future, but there was nothing to be done about it now. Even if he had been able to return her statement, he wasn't sure he would have been able to put the full force of truth behind his words...

One. Two. Three.

He stood up from the bed and headed towards his suitcase. After a short moment of fishing around in it, he pulled out a pair of athletic shorts and the first tee he could find and quickly threw them both on. His eyes landed briefly on his tranq pistol, but he decided it was perfectly fine right where it was. No part of him expected to have to use it during their trip, especially not when he could safely bet he'd be one of the only ones awake. He tossed a loose shirt over it to re-cover it and then pocketed his wallet before pivoting towards the door.

He eased the door quietly shut behind him so as to not disturb his sleeping partner, standing in front of their room with his eyes screwed tightly shut as they got used to the difference in lighting. His eyes, being of a more predatory nature, had always favored dimmer environments. The transition from dark to light especially had never been a pleasant one for him. It favored him just fine, as he'd always been more of a night owl anyway.

Not really having anywhere to go, he mentally flipped a coin before heading off in a random direction away from the door. He didn't plan on doing any real exploring, and would probably end up turning right back around fifty yards down the hallway.

So she loved him. That was certainly a development. Part of him worried about how quickly it had all occurred. They had only just started coming to terms about what their relationship actually was, after all, so to make such a large leap so soon…

One. Two. Three.

He dipped his hands into his pockets as he continued to walk. The round shape of the building meant that you couldn't see the ends of any hallways, as they all gradually curved inwards. The lights dotted sporadically along its length lent an otherworldly quality to it as they trailed off and away, eventually disappearing into the curve.

A dim hum caught his attention a few minutes into his walk as he neared a small alcove. Peeking into it, he saw a rather standard looking self serve ice maker next to a generously stocked vending machine. He smiled at this. Seems like no matter how different this hotel billed itself as being from any other, threads of commonality were still sure to exist.

His hand closed around his wallet in his pocket, and he made a sleepy snap decision to treat himself to a candy bar. He gave the machine a gentle probing kick as he approached, a holdover habit from years long gone that used to occasionally net him a free bag of chips, and then started scanning across everything it had to offer him behind the large sheet of glass.

He quickly came to a decision as to what he'd get himself, but waffled back and forth over whether to get Judy anything. She'd be sure to appreciate it once she woke up. It didn't have a card slot that would let him swipe his ZBI card, but it wasn't like the extra buck fifty or so of his own money spent would set him back very far, not even if he were to go crazy and get himself TWO candy bars instead of one.

He chuckled at his own immaturity before feeding the machine a dollar, the mechanical whirring noise of the dollar slot filling the alcove. He waited a moment for the display to register his payment.

He then waited a second moment for the display to register his payment.

He canted forwards to rest his forehead on the glass with a dull thump, sighing deeply. Of course it would eat his dollar. Why wouldn't it eat his dollar. He leaned backwards away from the machine, his hands coming to rest on his hips as he regarded the deviant piece of machinery in front of him. He could always go down to the front desk and ask for a refund there, but it seemed petty over such a small amount of money. Still, though, it was the principle behind hit more than anything. He'd really set his heart on that candy, and he wasn't about to take this lying down.

He pulled an old credit card out of his wallet before sticking the billfold back in his pocket, and then set to work. He ran a claw around the outside edge of the machine where the panel that held the glass met the larger chassis behind it, concentrating as he felt for a small pin.

He'd told Judy a few days ago that he'd never resorted to stealing, but that was as big a lie as he'd ever told her. It was a sore on his soul that bothered him more than any of the others, of which there were many. He'd told himself from the get go that he would never be anything but honest with the bunny, and it tore him up left and right to know that denying his past theft had come so easily to him. She'd bared her heart to him, and he repaid her generosity by lying to her. She'd told him that she loved him...

One. Two. Three.

He found the locking pin he was looking for and held his claw in place to index it. He slid his card into the crevice and gave it a solid thwack with the pad of his hand, lodging both his card and the pin into place. Turning his attention to the other side of the door, he quickly found a small circular lock near the bottom. All it took was a press of his finger into the center of it to rewards him with the sound of it disengaging, letting the entire front door of the machine to swing away.

It wasn't stealing, he rationalized. He'd paid fair and square, and it was the obstinance of the machine that drove him to do this.

He recalled a point, almost fifteen years ago now, where he hadn't eaten in close to three days. His usual beat of selling things out of a coat pocket with Finnick hadn't paid out in several days, and they'd run out of their 'emergency' stash. They had found a vending machine much like this one tucked away at a rest stop right at the edge of the city, and completely emptied it. For almost the entire next week the only things they had to eat were bags of chips, assorted candy bars, and a certain brand of honey bun that he couldn't so much as look at any more without feeling sick. It hadn't been a bright spot in his life, that was for darn sure, but it was one of those funny memories that seemed to take on a better and better quality as the years went by. Funny how the hardest times him and the other fox went through were the ones he now looked back on with the most fondness.

Judy's admission had lit a fuse, and he didn't have the luxury of not realizing it this time. It wasn't a quick fuse, never was, but it was impossible to snuff out. As it turns out, it's damned difficult to outrun a fuse that terminates at you.

He didn't know how long of a fuse it was, either. What he did know was exactly what would happen once it burned out. Whether in the back of Finnick's van, behind a supermarket, or locked in the bathroom of the fanciest hotel in the city; location didn't matter, as his mind would always find its way back to that place he'd spent so long running so far away from. Dark pathways beaten familiar as he was dragged back again and again, a bicycle without brakes perched at the top of a steep hill.

She'd told him that she loved him.

One. Two. Three.

He pulled two of his chosen bars from the machine before swinging the door gently back into place, retrieving his impromptu shim before it could be crushed. He was pretty sure Judy had mentioned loving coconut at some point, so he felt safe in his choice. He'd technically only paid for one, but he felt he could consider the second as the machine's way of saying sorry.

Some habits were hard to break, it seemed.

He resumed his walk down the hallway. He passed a housekeeper with her cart and exchanged a small nod as he walked past. It surprised him that roomkeeping services were still running this late, but he figured that maintaining a place as large as this to what was surely an impossibly high standard was a 'round the clock job.

"Good morning, sir," she'd offered pleasantly with only brief eye contact. It wasn't quite forced, but he could tell it was a phrase that she'd had a lot of practice offering up on command. Professionalism was expected at all times while on the clock, after all. It was a universal constant, whether on the streets or in the building that all streets lead to. She was a housekeeper, others were not.

He had almost always been on the clock, though his definition of professionalism differed somewhat. In practice it worked out to the same end; a preservation of the status quo that everyone accepted and expected. He was a fox, others were not. Every day was spent trying to get others to see him as something different, even if only briefly, so that he could con and swindle them out of one thing or another to his own benefit. His life had been built around playing a role that tricked others into dropping their guards so that he could roam freely.

Some days, that meant doing more than tricking. Some days it meant taking.

She'd told him that she loved him, and all he could focus on was how he was anything but deserving of it.

One. Two. Three.

He reached the end of what he thought was an acceptable distance to wander and turned back towards his room. It wasn't like he ran the risk of getting lost, as all he'd done was walk in a straight line, but if he didn't turn around now there was a very good chance he'd end up walking the entire way around the hotel. Being unable to sleep didn't mean he wasn't tired- quite the opposite. He was plodding his way through a fog as his thoughts rubber-banded back and forth from past to present and back again. The fuse was equally coiled around both, and made sure that they never drifted too far apart from one another. He was a police officer now, but that didn't mean that he was no longer his past.

He slowed as he approached the alcove with the vending machine again. He took a deep breath as he looked into it, the light inside the machine making the space missing two candy bars all the more obvious. He fished his wallet out of his pocket and fed another dollar into the bill slot. He walked away as soon as he saw it had been taken.

He gently opened up the door to their room after swiping his card, being careful to not make more noise than necessary. The door latched shut behind him as he entered back into darkness, his eyes taking a moment to adjust.

A shower normally did wonders to get his mind back on track, but right now that would mean having to walk through the bedroom. Not wanting to wake her or intrude on her privacy, he figured it would have to wait. That begged the question of what to do now, however. If he were to lay back down, there was no doubt in his mind that he would be staring at the ceiling until the sun came up. It was going to be an important day, so he would really need to be well rested for it. He'd need to be at the top of his game at the gala, and going into it droopy-eyed and less than sure-footed would surely spell disaster. They would need to look cool and confident, as anything else would convey a weakness that they couldn't afford to be picked up on.

His mind drifted stubbornly back to the idea of a shower. He briefly thought about walking all the way back down to the gym, as he thought he remembered seeing a locker room that would be sure to house a shower or two, but he couldn't quite gather the willpower to stand back up.

TV it was, then. He used the remote to turn on the massive display across from him. He lowered the volume to somewhere between 'inaudible' and 'completely inaudible' and settled back, not too concerned about what was showing. It was a distraction, after all, and he didn't see the purpose in fretting too much over what was sure to be ignored.

As far as distractions went, it turned out to be absolutely lousy at its job. His mind retreated back to those corners he was trying his best to keep it from as the glow of the screen dominated his vision.

Judy Hopps, the rabbit that had inserted herself into his life whether he'd wanted it or not, had told him that she loved him. His partner in the police force, his best friend, and the reason he was no longer having to resort to the petty life of a street criminal, had told him that she loved him. More alarming than the fact that she'd said it was the fact that she'd meant it. The way she'd said it left no room for her to be misinterpreted, and so it denied him the ability to play it off as a mistake or poorly timed outburst of passion. It had clearly been something that she had been thinking on for some time, and the conviction that drove her statement forwards, no matter how quietly she'd said it, scared the absolute shit out of him.

There were a number of trite expressions and sayings that he could pull out to explain why it scared him, but none would do the feeling proper justice. Not to mention the fact that every single explanation that he could possibly muster up would fall woefully short of that moral bar known as 'truthful'.

He wanted to be able to pass his trepidation off as something as simple as 'once bitten, twice shy', and perhaps he could twist that explanation into holding water. It was a secret to everyone but himself that it was true, but it wasn't the whole truth, and therein lay the problem.

'Not ready for a relationship' was also patently false, though this was another one of those things he tried real hard not think about. He'd done his time drifting, and was tired of all the uncertainty that the day to day of his previous life had brought him.

There was a lot that he was tired of, now that he was thinking along those lines.

One. Two. Three.

The darkness of the room robbed him of his ability to unfocus, and the word 'shower' began to flash repeatedly in his mind like a neon sign. Finally relenting, he raised himself and made his way towards the divide between the main living room and the bedroom. He paused in front of the closed door, his knuckles hovering in front of it while he debated over whether knocking would make things better or worse. If Judy were to wake up then she'd surely ask questions, and answering questions was just about the last thing he wanted to do right now. He instead settled on the silent approach, gently easing the door open and letting himself slip inside as smoothly as he could.

She looked so peaceful when she was sleeping. She lay motionless beneath the blankets, her internal switch firmly in the 'off' position as her breaths were long and slow. The small alarm clock gave off a faint light from the nightstand next to her, allowing his eyes just enough illumination to work with. His mind, being in such a helpful state as it was, was quick to point out the enormous amount of contrariety that existed between them, spurred on once again by seeing her so vulnerable.

There existed a rift between them that would never fully be bridged, that much was absolutely certain. Sure, they'd both agreed that in the grand scheme of things it mattered very little, but only so much could be ignored. The inherent differences between them would take a concerted effort on both of their behalfs to overcome, and the absolute last thing they needed was anything to drive a wedge between them during such an important stage of their relationship.

She'd told him she loved him, and he'd lied to her.

Their relationship had been building and building for months, but it was only in the last week or so that it had all begun coalescing together into more than just potential, and he'd stepped off right at the onset of this formation on the foot of a lie.

She deserved better than that, but he knew he'd never be able to do anything about it. She'd called him a good mammal, but she hadn't known everything about him when she made that call.

One. Two. Three.

Shower. Shower shower shower wow did he need a shower right now. His dam was pressed to bursting, and the tide was still coming in. Two breakdowns in two days would be some sort of a record, but he-

His blood froze as a creak sounded from the bed next to him.

He slowly turned his head to look at her. She had propped herself up on an elbow and was squinting in the darkness to try and make out who was in her room.

"Everything alright, Nick?" She asked sleepily, her look of freshly woken confusion morphing into something that bordered on concern.

She was being nice and giving him an out with that question. All he had to do was say that everything was fine, and that he was just going to the bathroom or something else equally banal that he could hide behind. Instead of all of that - instead of taking the easy way out - he slowly shook his head. "...No." The word was barely formed behind a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

Now wasn't that just the million dollar question. He sincerely doubted the multi-headed hydra of emotional issues roiling within him could be slain with so simple a question, but opportunities for him to bring anything out into the open had been few and far between for him in years past. If the help she was offering right now was that of letting him bring a few more concerns to light to better identify, then so be it. That being the case, why should he be making her deal with it all? The odds of her knowing where the ticket she'd just bought would take her were slim.

He took another unsteady step as he resumed his walk to the bathroom. "We can talk about it when you're up, if you still want to."

She sat fully up in the bed, her sleep shirt exposing a hint of her midriff as she raised her arms out above her, stretching back and forth. "I can be up," she replied simply. The way her eyes didn't linger in one spot for too long told him that she still couldn't quite make him out in the darkness, a problem she rectified by switching on the bedside lamp. It was a small light, but it was still bright enough to send them both into a momentary squint as they adjusted. Nick's eyes especially not appreciating the abrupt change.

She watched him with a carefully tempered look of expectation. She had no intention of letting him walk away this time, but was fully willing to allow it to happen if necessary.

One. Two. Three.

"Am I a good mammal?"

She looked at him sideways, her hand stopping mid motion in rubbing the sleep from her eyes. "Haven't we already been over this?"

"Maybe I just want to hear it again." Maybe he just needed to hear it again.

She blinked a few more times before looking him in the eyes. "You're a good mammal. I mean that. I don't care what you've done or who you used to be," she paused to allow herself a yawn, "the only thing that matters is you now, and right now you're the best mammal I know."

His ears fell flat at her assertion, which was more or less in line with what she expected. "I don't know what's going on, Nick," she kept her voice level and subdued, worried that coming on too strong too fast would scare him. She recognized the way he was holding himself at the edge of the bed, and didn't want to do anything to exacerbate his state. "Tell me about it."

His brow twitched momentarily together. "You want-"

"Talk to me about it," she asserted, ever so slightly more forcefully this time. Pull the line too tight and it might snap. She caught his eyes in her own and smiled at him. "Please."

He blinked wordlessly at her question before rising from the edge of the bed and exiting through the door he'd come through, leaving her to worry. As quickly as he was gone, however, he returned.

It was Judy's turn to be caught off guard as he offered her a candy bar, a second one for himself held in his other hand. After allowing herself a couple seconds to process what he was doing, she smiled thankfully up at him and took it, quickly allaying any worries he'd had about whether or not she'd like it as she peeled away the wrapper. They ate silently for a few moments, giving them both a precious amount of time to collect their thoughts. As her vision became more and more used to the light of the lamp she was able to pick up the detail in Nick's bloodshot eyes, which gave her an idea as to what exactly was going on. If he was close to having another incident like he'd had the day prior she was going to do everything in her power to prevent it, and if that turned out to be impossible then she was going to be there to help him weather it.

"Talk to me about it," she reasserted.

"I will." He let out a sharp breath, clearing his throat once. "Am. I am," he corrected, though whether it was for her benefit or his she was uncertain. "About to talk about it."

Several seconds more of silence passed between them, with Nick showing no sign of progressing any further. She could tell he desperately wanted to say something, but had no idea where to start.

Never one to fear taking the initiative, she decided to do just that. "What do you dream about?"

Nick found himself once more taken off guard. It was normally a position that he hated being in, as it normally meant he was unequipped or underprepared for whatever he was attempting, but perhaps that was exactly what he needed right now. Whether she realized it or not - and he wouldn't put it past her to realize it - catching him like this, without giving him time to prepare some pre-thought or well rehearsed answer, she was guaranteeing she got the truth. It wasn't that he would ever lie to her, but more so that he had a bad habit of lying to himself in such a convincing way that even he would believe every word of it. Just when he'd thought the last barricade around his heart had fallen, she discovered and dismantled another.

"I saw you tossing and turning when I got up yesterday," she continued, hoping the fact that she was watching him sleep would be glossed over given the context. "What were you dreaming about?"

He took another breath. He'd been wondering when this conversation would come up, but he never imagined it would be this early. "Don't remember," he answered plainly, rubbing at his arm. "Never do," he finished lamely, knowing it wasn't enough of an answer.

"So that happens a lot?"

"The nightmares?"

She nodded, her eyes still on his.

"Every night."

"Every night?"

"Every night," he reaffirmed, though quieter than before, as though it was a source of shame. He looked away, smiling humorlessly. "Stupid, right?"

She shook her head slowly, waiting patiently for him to turn back towards her. She made sure her eyes once again caught his before continuing. "I don't think so. I think it's terrible that you've had to deal with it alone for so long, but I want you to know that you don't have to do that anymore." She crossed and sat on her legs, placing her hands in her lap. "Tell me about it. Everything. Anything. Please."

One. Two. Three.

"Not much about it you don't already know, I guess. Started happening back right after my parents died, and that's... really all I've got." He shrugged. "I really wish I had more to tell you, but that's it. I haven't slept through the night in years. Also used to steal a lot," he added almost as an afterthought, not trusting himself to allow it to come up naturally later on. It was unnatural and jarring in its presentation, but giving himself time to try and think on it would be like announcing to all the roaches before you turned the lights on. "Told you a few days ago that I never stole, but I did." His already quiet voice tapered off dramatically towards the end, his final few words barely above a whisper.

"Why?" She asked simply. It wasn't accusatory, merely curious.

He felt a stab in his heart as she asked it. It was another addition to the long list of questions that lacked a proper answer. "...Because I didn't want you to think-"

"No," she interrupted as gently as she could, drawing a confused look from him. "I trust you, you stupid fox," she jabbed with a genuine smile. "I know you had a reason for why you didn't tell me. Why did you steal?"

Once again: completely unexpected, completely unprepared. He was all set up and ready to go for some self deprecating wallowing, and she was doing everything she could to take it all in a completely different direction.

She gave him what she thought was appropriate enough time to answer, then asked again. "Why did you steal? Did you and Eddie used to..?"

"No. No, it was before I met Eddie. After we went different ways, too, but not as often. I never did anything with him. Thought it was stupid, what he was doing."

"What made what you did different?" She was hesitant to use the word 'theft' before he did, worrying that it might carry with it some odd connotation she wasn't aware of.

"Because I only did it to eat," he defended quickly. It was the first prompt response she'd gotten out of him so far, and hopefully not the last. "Eddie did it to save a buck."

Her brow twitched inwards in slight confusion. "Why didn't you go to the food bank? I headed up the fundraiser for it last year, I know it's been around long enough."

"I was young and stupid and too proud for my own good. My parents used to go there every couple of weeks or so to pick up a few little things. Bread, or butter, or whatever. At least they were trying to make a life for themselves outside of going to the food bank. I just loafed around in a van all day, thinking I was better than them." He gave a derisive snort, that familiar sensation of self loathing over the mammal he used to be bubbling back to the surface.

She nodded pensively. "I understand." It was a woefully inadequate response, but she hoped it would hold.

He snorted again. "Ms. by-the-book bunny cop is alright with my stealing?"

"I didn't say I was alright with it, just that I understood. When was the last time you stole anything."

He shrugged after a moment or two of thought. "Dunno. Few years ago."

Finally, the conversation was coming around to a place where she could actually do something with it.

"Are you the same mammal you were back then?"

"No," he answered with a weak shake of his head."

No. It was a start, but it wasn't good enough.

"You were a lying, cheating conmammal doing awful things to spite a world you decided was out to get you."

Nick stared back at her, his eyebrows nearly touching the ceiling. "O… Kay. Ouch. Do you-"

She held up a finger, cutting off any potential rebuttal. "Not done. You stole from hardworking mammals to supplement a life where you just 'loafed around in a van'," she parroted. "You were exactly the type of common, lowlife, no-good, future-less…" she squinted her eyes tightly together, searching for more descriptors, "...asshole that parents would warn their kids about whose only purpose was to make life more difficult than it already was for anyone unfortunate enough to cross paths with you."

The fox's jaw hung open and slightly askew as he looked at his partner sitting opposite him in stunned silence. He felt his heart ripping further and further apart with every word, and he had absolutely no ability, nor right, to defend himself. She was correct in every assertion; she knew it, he knew it, and there was nothing he could do about it. He slowly reeled his jaw back up from the floor as he felt his heartbeat begin to pick up intensity in his chest.

"Were you a good mammal then? No," she answered her own question before he had the chance to interject. "No you were not."

Her broach of the silence shocked him back into lucidity, but he had absolutely no idea what the correct course of action was from here.

She reopened her eyes for the first time since finishing her tirade, and locked them firmly on his. "Are you still that fox? Are you still the same fox you used to be?"

Finding that his voice had left him at some point, he shook his head.

She rocked herself forwards on the bed and encircled him in a hug that was immediately reciprocated.

Silence remained between them until Judy felt Nick's chest begin to lurch and catch in a broken rhythm. Knowing that it may have been him crying, she held onto him even tighter in solidarity and support, willing to be with him through whatever was to come. It wasn't until she realized that it was, in fact, laughter that she pulled away far enough to look at him, a confused smile painting her muzzle.

"Feel good to get all that off your chest?" Nick wiped a tear away from the corner of one of his eyes, but Judy knew better than to attribute it solely to laughter. "Sounded like you'd had that little rant ready to go for a while."

She slugged him squarely in the chest. Not hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to let him know that this attempt at changing the subject had been noticed, processed, and summarily rejected.

"What I'm trying to get at is that you're not the same fox that you're trying to beat up. The person you want to get back at doesn't exist anymore."

He wanted to believe her, and perhaps there was more truth to her statement than he was willing to admit, but even he knew that truly coming to terms with his past would be a process. The repercussions of his lifestyle, both internal and external, had been fermenting within him for so long that only a slow, gradual release of the pressure built up would allow for him to address it. Still, a single step was better than no step at all.

Nick extricated himself from their embrace after a few more moments of silence, excusing himself to the shower to start his initial reason for entering her bedroom.

The bathroom door latched shut behind him, and Judy found herself sitting alone in the center of the bed.

You'd think that she would be well used to finding herself in absurd situations such as this one, but no matter how often they happened - and the regularity with which they were happening had definitely increased over the past few weeks - she was inevitably at a loss. A bomb had gone off, and she found herself sitting at the bottom of the crater none the worse for wear in what was becoming a pattern of bomb after bomb, crater after crater. A feeling of 'this should probably concern me more than it does' flitted briefly at the edge of her rational thoughts, but was quickly swept away. For once, she was more certain than not that she had done the right thing.

It just so happened that the 'right thing' this time was verbally beating the shit out of the mammal she held dearest to her heart.

She peeled the 'how' away from the 'what' in that scenario and let it slide into the don't-think-about-it bucket. She had done the right thing - she was sure of it - but she didn't want to give herself any opportunity to think about what exactly the right thing had entailed. Ends adequately justifying the means or not didn't mean she was exactly proud of it. She had come to terms with the type of mammal Nick had used to be. At least, she thought she had. Her little outburst had been worryingly easy to put together on the fly, and she silently vowed to take a closer look at what exactly made it so easy to rip into him at some point in the near future. If any feelings like those were in fact laying dormant beneath the trust and adoration she felt for him here and now, the last thing she wanted to do was allow them time to fester and grow unchecked.

She took a breath and flopped backwards. Four in the morning was certainly earlier than she usually woke up, but was still workable. Besides, even if she managed to somehow fall back asleep, her rhythm had been thrown off. If anything she could take a nap sometime in the afternoon to perk her strength back up before the gala.

The gala.

Yep. She was definitely awake now. The closest proximity she'd had to any of the crime bosses of the city was when she had, against her better judgement, attended the wedding of Fru-Fru Big, the daughter of one of the most notorious mobsters in the city, and at the time a valuable ally. She made sure to let all parties involved in that little adventure know that it was a one-time thing, and that any further socialization wouldn't be in anyone's best interest.

It was for this reason exactly that she so worried about the evening's upcoming events. She'd politely severed ties with the one link she had on the 'inside', and was somehow going to have to temporarily mend that relationship to have any sort of a hope of blending in. There wasn't going to be a single aspect of tonight that could be described as 'undercover', as acting like they had anything to hide in a room full of mammals whose jobs it was to sniff out anyone with anything to hide was a foolproof recipe for absolute disaster. If Big asked them why they were there… No, he was smarter than that. When he asked them why they were there, the only course of action will be to tell the truth and hope for the best. How Big would react to the truth was one hell of an unknown that almost everything regarding the rest of their investigation hinged off of, and she hated putting so much on something that couldn't be guaranteed.

Another big unknown, as much as she hated to admit it to herself, was her partner.

His behavior the past few weeks, and the past couple of days especially, wasn't something that she would label as exactly… stable. Relying on him to hold it together was something she was going to have to do simply because there was no other option, but not having him at the top of his game could be disastrous.

That creeping sense of hopelessness regarding his well-being began to rise once more. He'd fought his own battles for his entire life, and had gotten this far more or less unscathed, but there had been, by his own admission, some rather significant bumps along the way. If he was heading straight into a personal rough patch of emotional instability, then he sure picked a wonderful time to do so.

No. Bad bunny.

She mentally chided herself, letting out a snort as she wiped down the length of her face. It wasn't his fault, and they were both doing their best with the lot they had been dealt. He had a lot of latent issues that were beginning to surface that he had no control over, and it was up to her to make sure she would be there for him every step of the way to aid him in any way he needed, whether he wanted it or not. Simply lumping his personal distress into the same pile of problems that their assignment had brought on would only guarantee that she treated them the same way, and that was the absolute last thing that needed to be done. The professional, by the numbers, A plus B always equals C approach that she tackled all her job related problems with wouldn't get her very far with the fox. He was special, and deserved to be treated as such.

Just how special was something that she had only recently begun putting much thought into.

She had told him she loved him, so that was a pretty big deal.

After their embrace the night before, after she'd told him, they very quickly thereafter went to bed. It wasn't that she expected him to immediately return her expression, but his almost complete and total silence following it didn't do much to soothe her.

It wasn't that she thought she'd made a mistake in saying how she felt, though. There was no mistake about it. Every breathless syllable, as few as they may have been, had the full weight of her heart behind them. She'd laid awake for long after they had retired to their own beds for the night, and had spent quite a good bit of time examining what exactly had made her say what she had when she had. The more time she spent thinking about it, the more she came to the realization that there was nothing else she could have possibly said then and there to express to him how she really felt.

Rushing into things such as they had always ran the risk of certain expressions surfacing or being shared prematurely, but she was certain there wasn't any other time that would have been more appropriate than when she had chosen. Loneliness of construct had met loneliness of choice, and the final few bricks of each others crumbling walls had fallen together. She had fallen in love with him, there was no way around that, and she needed to tell him. To have held off any longer would have been a mistake. To have bottled up her newfound feelings would have run the very real risk of spoiling them with over analyzation in a way she was all too familiar with.

Once a seed sprouts and breaks ground, reburying it will only hurt it. It was one of the very first things she'd learned growing up on her parents' farm. Love… Horticulture... How different could they be, right?

Her own woefully inadequate experiences with matters of the heart aside, she felt like she was on the right track. Overthinking - like she was doing now, a niggling part of her chimed in - would only serve to sour things. Love was supposed to be spontaneous and uncertain, right? Which is why her regimented and orderly way of life was throwing up so many… they weren't necessarily red flags, per se, but the same alarms that normally ring when things are starting to tip out of her control were ringing loud and clear within her.

She could see where her thoughts were leading. That same circuitous route of this or that means maybe this or that which had lead her into fits previously was just on the horizon, and she wanted nothing to do with it today. Instead of worrying herself into a puddle on the floor, the best course of action would be to just get ready and take things as they come, taking a page out of Nick's playbook for once and going with the flow. If things were moving too quickly, then she was certain it would become apparent enough to where she could do something about it. She'd waited this long, after all, so what was a little while longer?

After another brief stretch, she slid herself out of bed to get her morning started in earnest.

She held off on getting undressing until after the sound of a shower starting on the other side of the bathroom door told her it was safe to do so. Her sleep shirt was balled up and discarded into a corner of the room she had designated as the 'laundry' corner. Her new dress was tucked safely away in the attached closet for when the time came, but for now she donned a much simpler outfit more suited to running any last minute errands that needed to be completed before the gala.

Satisfied enough with her appearance, she started on her way out of the bedroom, but stopped before reaching the door. She turned and padded carefully over to the bathroom door and pressed an ear against it, listening for anything out of the ordinary, just in case. Luckily for them both, the only sounds she encountered were those that you would expect from someone taking a shower, with nary a sound of tears or collapse to be found.

Satisfied to leave him be, made her way back to the living room and fumbled her hand briefly against the wall before finding the dimmer switch, giving it a metered twist. Not wanting to blind herself any more than the lamp in the bedroom had, she settled it somewhere comfortably dim and continued attending to her morning.

Next on her checklist was coffee, and she was happy to find that the little machine had at some point been replaced the previous day. She hadn't taken any notice of it at the time, but she had been rather preoccupied. Priming it with the right amount of water and grounds, she flipped the switch to the 'on' position and was happily met with a little red light letting her know all was well. She picked up the suit bag draped over the back of the computer desk chair - another detail delivered at some point the previous day they had both missed - and lay it flat along the couch-turned-bed that Nick was using.

Taking a seat, she pulled her laptop towards her and fell back into the routine comfort of preparations.

It's a funny thing how guilt works. Nick wanted nothing more than to take himself by his own lapels and shake every little insecurity or wrongfully applied bit of self-flagellation out of himself, but he couldn't bring himself to do so. He knew beyond any reasonable measure of doubt that the very last thing he should be feeling over Judy's willingness to help him through his lower points was guilt, but the feeling nonetheless persisted. This, in turn, lead to a feeling of guilt over how he was feeling guilty over something he knew he shouldn't be, which resulted in a cycle that lacked any clearly defined beginning or end. If he could identify where it all started, then he might be able to trace his steps back and unwind the trap he'd caught himself in, but that was seeming like less and less of a possibility with each new month he lived through.

The shower hissed around him as he stepped into it, the warm water doing wonders to clear his mind, just as he'd hoped.

Perhaps the best course of action would be to just keep on keeping on. The simple act of enjoying each day as it came to him without any further thought given to the larger picture or what latent feelings he had yet to uncover or identify might just be the way to go. That of course came with its own pitfalls and challenges, but it wasn't like he wasn't well versed in avoiding them. Ignoring everything and just living his life had been his modus operandi for a long time.

More and more of his walls were falling by the day. What's more, they were falling with his complete approval. He was beyond being scared of it at this point, as he knew it would ultimately be a change for the better, but their destruction left him with the uncomfortable sensation of being open and exposed. It astounded him to no end that it was a bunny, after all these years, that was finally able to get to him.

She had told him that she loved him.

One. Two. Three.

He allowed his shower to stretch on for a few minutes longer, not wanting to step back out into the cold of their shared room. If he knew Judy, and he liked to think that he did, then she had probably already gotten up and started her day. It was ultimately his not wanting to keep her waiting that compelled him to end his relaxation as he twisted the knobs to 'off' and gave himself and undignified shake familiar to all canids.

It was only after toweling off and getting as dry as he was going to get that he realized he had forgotten to bring a change of clothes with him. Not too big a problem in the grand scheme of things, as wrapping his towel around his waist offered a temporary solution.

A plume of steam followed him out as he entered the living room. Much as he'd expected, Judy had slipped back into 'cop mode' and was busying herself at her laptop.

"Anything new?" He asked in passing as he made his way towards his suitcase. He made a mental note to fold the bed back in on itself before they left for the day.

She didn't look back at him, her attention still focused forwards. "No, just going back over everything. I don't want there to be any surprises tonight if I can help it."

"And reading the dossiers for the fifth or sixth time is going to keep us from being surprised?"

"Limiting potential surprises, then." She folded her laptop down on itself, swiveling around in her chair to face him. "If anybody's there who wasn't on file, it might tell us something, and visa versa." Her mouth curved into an amused smile. "Planning on going out in your towel?"

"Not if I can help it." He kicked weakly at his suitcase, nudging it out from beneath the folded out bed.

"Feeling any better?"

"Nope, but I'm not any worse. That's a bit of an improvement, right?"

A half shake of her head and a tired smile was the only response she could manage. Things weren't going to get better immediately, she knew that, but his wounds would never heal if they remained open. "I'm about to head down and see if anywhere is open for breakfast. You're welcome to come with if you get dressed."

Nick folded the couch back in on itself and fed it back into position. Tossing the cushions back into place, he flopped down onto it. His suitcase abandoned for now, it was loud and clear exactly where he was going to be staying for the next little while.

"At least finish drying off. I don't want you smelling like wet dog tonight." She stood up from her chair after Nick's only response was closing his eyes. The coffee had finished brewing a few minutes previous, and the dark smell of it drifting from that corner of the room was definitely calling her name. Blowing once across the top of the steaming mug, she took a slow, testing sip.

A wet towel thrown from the other side of the room landed on her head and draped over her. She only just kept hold of her coffee as she stumbled. "Nick!"

"Don't look, I'm naked."

Her hand froze midway into removing the towel, the small sip of coffee she had taken not nearly warm enough to blame for the heat she felt working its way into her cheeks. "Well, hurry up," she retorted lamely. The sounds of him rustling around in his suitcase lasted a few more seconds behind her, followed by the creak of the couch as he sat back down. "...Dressed?"

"As I'm going to get."

She took the towel off and whipped it back at him, but went wide as it crumpled against the wall above the couch. He was still shirtless, not to mention damp, but he'd at least had the decency to put a pair of jeans on. The heat from her cheeks, which had up until now been receding, began to make a second appearance as she looked over him reclining along its length. His legs were crossed at the ankles, and his head was tilted sharply backwards against the armrest, facing straight up.

She started walking over to him. "Still sleepy?"

He hummed an affirmative tone, opening his eyes after his partner prodded him in the arm. She held the mug out for him, giving it a little prompting waggle to get him to take it. He smiled appreciatively and took a sip.

She sat and nestled herself into the crook of his arm, taking the mug as he passed it back to her. "You going to be ok for tonight?"

"Probably," he said in a way that left a little to be desired in the way of confidence.

The rest of the day passed in relative peace. There were no more grand revelations shared between them, at least not any that could come close to topping the one from the night before. Nick was doing a very good job of pretending like last night wasn't the focus of his thoughts, but, despite his best efforts, signs nevertheless slipped through the cracks.

Their partnership on the force had always been one of mutual give and take, but he was coming up short on his side today. It was only just noticeable, but it was still there. His normally razor sharp wit and tit-for-tat verbal flair was… hollow. He wasn't faking what was still present, nor was he having to force himself to enjoy Judy's company, but his distraction was becoming more and more evident as the day drew on.

Ever the investigator, Judy had been poking and prodding all day trying to find a point of entry into his feelings. But, much as she had come to know, his defenses against just such attacks were second to none. He assured her on many occasions that he was fine, and that this would pass just as all his other run-ins with this particular type of unpleasantness had in the past. She hadn't been satisfied with that answer, but there was very little she could do about it.

Ever since the manufactured veil between them had been torn down, their interactions were coming more and more naturally. Even with Nick in his current state of unease, time spent together was time enjoyed together.

Breakfast, lunch, and everything in between was shared between them as they did little more than enjoy each other for each other. Their last full day of calm before the storm.

And so it was that they found themselves back in their room, making final preparations before setting out to the gala.

Nick was buttoning up his dress shirt, crisp and white, while Judy, behind the closed door of the bedroom, took care of her own preparations.

Slipping her dress over herself and pulling the fabric into its proper places, she couldn't help but think ahead. The two of them were sure to cut a conspicuous image, which was at total odds with the initial plan of their visit. Her dress caught what little light was in the bedroom and cast it around as though specifically cut to draw as much attention as possible, an effect she was sure to be magnified by the slit running down one length of the leg. She had managed to zip up the back without needing the helping hand of her partner, but as she gave herself a final look over in the full length mirror in front of her, several questions, concerns, and other such niggling pressures of an overactive mind began to take form. Was the slit longer than it was in the fitting room? It certainly looked longer, terminating now much closer to the waistline than where she had first seen it to be. No matter how she pushed or pulled it, it stayed stubbornly in place. She hadn't completely zipped it up when trying it on, but she hadn't imagined it would make this much of a difference. Truth be told, if she'd known it would have been this… risque, then she probably wouldn't have chosen it.

Nick's reaction when she stepped out of the bedroom was a replay of the one he'd had back when she was trying it on, though his gaze lingered just long enough in a few key areas for her to pick up on it. She knew she should be flattered, and there was absolutely no doubt that she was, but her inner self conscience was still trying to make itself known.

After reluctantly pulling his eyes off of her, for which she was silently grateful as the heat of her blush was starting to worry her, he finished tucking in his shirt and pulled his jacket out of the tailor's bag that it had arrived in. Giving it a quick shake to fluff it back out, he slipped himself into it and turned back around to face his partner, soliciting her opinion with a cock of his eyebrows.

There was just something about a suit. A universal symbol of confident masculinity when executed well, and damn did he do it justice.

"What do you think? Not too tight across the back?" He turned and rolled his shoulders, exploring the limits of the tailored fabric.

It took Judy's mind a moment to reboot, her worry over her own appearance temporarily forgotten as it was now her turn to eye him over.

Noticing she was giving him the same eyeballing that he had given her, he took advantage of her attention and struck a heroic pose, chest puffed and hands on his hips. "Undercover agent Nicholas Wilde," he turned his head sharply towards her, "at your service."

She laughed at that, adopting a sultry pose of her own, hips cocked and eyes lidded. "Oh my." Her voice was every bit as exaggerated as his had been. "Deep undercover, surrounded by dangerous mammals," she took a step forwards with every statement, her tail flicking side to side. "Are you up to the challenge?"

He quickly turned and snatched her by the waist, eliciting an 'eep' and a laugh as they fell backwards onto the couch.

They settled into one another after the giggling passed.

Nick looked down at her, a contented smile on her face. "Can I be honest for a second?" He started, drawing her attention. "I'm nervous as shit."

She sighed, resting her chin in her hands. "Me too. Part of the job, though. If there weren't mammals like us, the city would be a much more dangerous place."

"Still wish this could have been just one big vacation, though."

She tapped him playfully on the chest before once again laying her head against it. "I'm sure you do. We've still got a few days ahead, though. Maybe we can wrap all this up early and enjoy the end of it."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

The ballroom was on the third floor of the hotel behind two enormous wooden doors, each easily six inches thick, and carved with all manner of intricate designs and motifs that mirrored the columns outside. They only had to nod at the two mammals watching the door for it to be opened for them, their dress evidently giving them enough reason to be there.

Laid out before them was a room divided in two, along one half were many tables, all neatly dressed up and about half of them occupied with all number of party goers, with the bulk of the opposite side of the room dedicated to hosting a large dance floor, polished to a mirror finished and surrounded on all sides by gently swaying lights as they kept pace with the gentle music coming from all corners of the room.

A quick survey of the occupied tables later and they began making their way towards one of them near the back left of the banquet hall. Large, impeccably dressed polar bears dotted here and there in increasing frequency told them they were headed in the right direction.

As they made their approach, one of the bears rose from his seat and wordlessly stepped in front of them, an uninterested, haughty expression on his face as he looked them over.

Nick slipped a hand into his breast pocket and withdrew the white invitation that had accompanied their gift basket, the filigreed 'B' clearly displayed on the exterior. The bear dropped his eyes to the invitation, looked them both over once more for good measure, and then took his seat once again. Taking this as a sign that they were free to continue, they closed the remaining distance and took their seats. Conversation had come to a stop before they sat, leaving them the center of attention, surrounded by silence.

Fru waved at Judy from across the table, which she politely returned.

"Hello to you both." The diminutive, rough-worn voice of the mob boss seated across from them drew the attention of everyone seated. "I take it my invitation found you well?"

The gifted watch suddenly felt very heavy on Nick's wrist. "It did, thank you." The fox tried to keep his voice as pleasant as possible, but being seated across from the one who had, on multiple occasions, threatened him with gross bodily harm was making it difficult.

"Good, good." His eyes, obscured as they were by dark, bushy eyebrows, could still be felt by the mammals he was addressing. "I'm going to cut right to the chase, here."

Nick and Judy both stiffened in their chairs.

"Judy," the shrew began, his head turning ever so slightly in her direction. "Officer Hopps."

She dipped her head in acknowledgement.

"I like you," he began rather simply. "You've done good by and for my family, for my daughter especially," he gestured with an outstretched hand. "So please understand me when I say that I harbor no ill will against you or your partner. But I do have to ask. Why are you here?"

Judy began to answer, having already decided on how to handle just this situation.

Big held up his hand, silencing her before she could get a word out. He was completely in control. He was always in control.

Judy, however, held up a hand of her own in response to him. "I'm not going to lie to you," she stated simply. "None of us have anything to gain by lying to you. Ask whatever you want." Her eyes met where she expected the shrew's to be, and held unwaveringly.

Nick swallowed hard. He'd seen a handful of mammals try the same tactic in the past, and none of their attempts had ended well. To his endless surprise, the shrew paused. You would think that with as often has it was happening, being surprised would stop surprising him.

It was a short pause, but a pause nonetheless as he considered the bunny sat across from him. Nick had all but fallen to the wayside during their exchange, content to stay as far away from the cross-hairs as possible. Masculine social constructs or 'taking charge' be damned; the shrew scared him, and he wasn't above admitting it.

Maybe it was because Judy had never witnessed firsthand just what the small mammal was capable of. Sure, he'd ordered both of them iced at one point, but that was still solidly on the outskirts of the depravity he'd witnessed carried out at the behest of the shrew. Nick had seen quite a bit of it, on the contrary. Both when he was on his own and when he was 'behind the curtains' helping, however indirectly it may have been, the mob boss' empire.

"Ok. Why are you here? Truthfully, as you've so helpfully said that you will be."

She took a breath, hoping her answer would garner the correct response. She wasn't entirely certain what the correct response would be, but she'd know it when she saw it. Anything that wasn't them being forcibly hauled out of the hotel by one of his many bodyguards would be more than welcome, honestly. Another hope of hers was that her and her partner were still on the same page. They'd gone over what they would say if this question came up briefly after they'd first arrived at the hotel, but had done little in ways of discussing it since. Operating on the assumption that their plan remained unchanged, she started off.

"We're here on to monitor the events of the week on behalf of the ZBI." She watched him closely as she carefully chose how she wanted to present their mission. Mentioning so early that the ZBI had a hand in this, not just the ZPD, was a risk, but it would give her time to smooth it over as the conversation progressed. Like any good crime boss, the mention of a federal agency would be sure to tip him more towards nervous that he currently was. "I'm not supposed to be telling you any of this," she continued with a shake of her head, sharing a look with her partner, "but we figured that you'd already have some sort of idea. Officially, it was supposed to be a coincidence that we were here at the same time as all of you. Us being us was an effort to lend the coincidence cover more credibility, because why would the ZPD send two of their highest profile officers on an undercover assignment?" She let out a sharp sigh, still questioning the logic behind that particular aspect of the plan. "We were only supposed to intervene if required, and even then only to be peacekeepers. This is a peacetime meeting between you all, right? So we weren't expecting to have to do anything besides observe and report. Nothing more, nothing less."

Big held her gaze for several seconds after she finished, watching her closely for any sign that she had fabricated any of her explanation. She was right when she said that he already had an idea as to their true purpose here, and her story corroborated everything that his sources had fed him. His responded with a muffled hmm, followed by another stretched period of silence. After a further agonizingly long period of shared examination, the shrew finally spoke up. "You're here as peacekeepers?"

"Only if we have to be," she answered with a determined nod. That the shrew latched onto that particular aspect of her answer rang a distant alarm.

He motioned over his shoulder for one of the bears to lean towards him, and he spoke briefly into his guard's ear. Whatever he said was inaudible to both of the officers seated across from him, but the exchange was over quickly. Motioning the bear away again with a couple lazy sweeps of his hand, the shrew returned his attention to the pair. More especially, his attention was directed at Nick.

"You."

As far as single words went, that one carried with it a surprising amount of weight. The fox was doing an admirable job of remaining as outwardly calm and collected as he could hope to be, but his hand had at some point found its way to rest atop Judy's thigh. His grip, now ironclad, spoke volumes to her about how he was truly feeling being the main attention of the boss.

Nick didn't verbally respond, instead dipping his head, mirroring his partner from a few minutes previously.

"Do you agree with everything that your partner here has said? That you're both…" His fingers curled in on themselves, searching the air for just how he wanted to word things. "...here to keep anything unnecessary from transpiring?"

"Yes."

The shrew let out a quiet hmm, again letting the seconds of silence stretch on between them.

Without prompt, the same polar bear Big had spoken quietly with before dropped a folded piece of paper in the center of the table. Nick made to reach for it, but the heavy hand of another bear was placed gently atop his from the side of the table. The bear shook his head gently before removing his hand and resuming his post as silently as he had left it.

"This?" Big gestured around him at all the tables, which were slowly being filled as more and more mammals filtered into the room. "This isn't peace." He shook his head slowly. "It may be quiet, but it isn't peace."

Judy eyed the piece of paper in front of her suspiciously, all manner of speculation over what it could be currently running wild within her. "What do you mean?"

"Someone has been making waves where there shouldn't be waves." He paused briefly to welcome an approaching coyote, the predator kissing his extended ring before continuing wordlessly on his way to disappear into the crowd. "Unfortunately, I am in a complicated position regarding these waves. Every single mammal in this room wants at least two of the others dead. Nobody with half a brain wants to make the first move." He sighed lazily, scratching briefly at his chin. "This isn't peace. I'm not saying today, I'm not saying tomorrow, but those waves, sooner or later, are going to wash someone away."

Nick and Judy shared a nervous glance, the fox voicing both of their thoughts. "Why are you telling us this?"

"I'm not," the shrew responded without a second's hesitation. "I'm not telling you anything, nor have I told you anything." The shrew's voice took on an uncharacteristically hard edge, ensuring his meaning was crystal clear.

Nick felt Judy tense beneath his hand. Her 'cop mode' switch had just been fully engaged.

"Singing, dancing, food, wine; it's all the same distraction." The hair on the back of Judy's neck was standing further and further on end with every one of the shrew's words. Big shook his head. "As the gala comes to a close, I want you to look around you at this peace," the word slid distastefully from his tongue, "and try to see it from my perspective." He shook his head, apparently finished with this line of thinking. "Enough of this. Thank you, both of you, for being my guests tonight. Enjoy your evening."

The shrew redirected his attention elsewhere, as a small line of mammals had formed just beyond the tables, being held in order by a pair of bears guarding the approach. Nick and Judy took their leave as the others were allowed to begin approaching. Whether to pay their respects to the infamous boss, or to rub shoulders in a professional sense, it was neither of their business. The fewer things they got involved in during their time here, the better.

"You want a drink?" Nick hooked a thumb in the general direction of where he expected a bar to be, his question poking a hole in her rapidly inflating worry balloon.

While unable to shake the feeling that something was looming just on the horizon, there was little point to standing out any further than they already were. One drink wouldn't hamper her too badly should things go south. If the shrew was to be believed, and she begrudgingly admitted that she had no reason to doubt him, things should stay stable for at least some time yet. Unwritten law between gangsters or not, a high profile event like this was probably safe from attack.

"Yeah. Something fruity, if they have it?"

With a quick two-finger salute, he was off, leaving her on her own to find an unoccupied table. Luckily, near the fringe of the ball room farthest from the door was a small section of couples tables. Two chairs, white and silver table dressings, and a single tapered candle in the center of them all.

She sat, smoothing her dress down. She didn't have to wait long before Nick emerged from the crowd, two fluted glasses in his hands. Setting them down, he took the seat across from her. "It's crazy," he started sarcastically, taking a sip of his own, "as soon as I got near the bar, the line completely disappeared."

She hummed in agreement. "I've been noticing it too. Feels a little weird." She swirled her glass around idly, yet to take a drink.

Those that occupied the tables around them were doing a remarkable job of pretending that the cop duo didn't exist. They were going almost out of their way to avoid the two in every way that they could. Like two sharks swimming lazily through a school of fish, it was as though there was a bubble a few yards across surrounding them wherever they went. Appearing with Big may have temporarily smoothed things over in their favor, but who knew how long that would last. It was a manufactured tolerance that would surely wear thin by the end of the week, which helped to drive home the reality of their timeline

Thinking on this was giving Nick the heebie jeebies, so he decided a professional distraction was in order. "So what's on that piece of paper?"

She took a deep breath, her foot tapping at some unknown anticipation. "No idea, but I can't stop thinking about it." Her fingers curled around her glass. "What do you think he's playing at?"

"No idea," he mirrored. "I've dealt with him for a long time, and he's never been…" he furrowed his brow, "what's the word… Insidious. He's never been insidious with his plans or jobs or whatever. He normally just asks if he wants something."

"So the man who can ask for anything is scared to ask for something. Great. Should we even be talking about this right now? Someone has to be listening, right?"

"Have you seen how hard everyone is trying to ignore us right now?" Nick asked with a half-hearted laugh. "I could do this," he leaned leaned across the table, bringing her head towards him in a quick kiss, "and nobody would bat an eye." He leaned back in his chair and looked around the room, his nerves from earlier slowly disappearing. "Odd as it is, were probably pretty safe right now. This is hallowed ground to these guys, or something."

Judy was taken off guard by his impromptu kiss, but quickly pulled her senses back into proper focus. A quick glance around her confirmed his assertion that they were indeed effectively invisible, but she couldn't help herself from wondering how long it would last. She could almost feel the cross-hairs drifting around them, waiting for just the right moment to settle. "Was it still on the table when you went to the bar?"

"Couldn't quite make it out from where I was. So he wants us to go back and pick it up, right?"

Judy took took an exploratory sip of her cocktail. It was a vibrant blue that almost seemed to glow from within, and it was pleasantly sweet when it hit her tongue. It's flavor was indistinct, tasting not like any specific fruit she could place, but instead just… fruit. "Why else would he put it there?"

The noise and constant movement of the gala swirled about around them. It was their first taste of their actual given task for the week, and it was doing a good job of once again driving home just how strange a situation they had gotten themselves into. Mammals that Judy had seen several times before pasted in briefings or internal memos at the office were now within feet of her, and her internal 'cop sense' was going haywire. She took another sip of her drink, hoping that it would dull her just enough to let everything fade into the background. She didn't want to completely drown out the scene, as there was still that whole 'ever present danger' thing to worry about, but she knew she would be able to cope as long as she didn't let herself get too far gone.

Nick was halfway through his first drink, and made a mental note to try and slow down to match the pace of his partner. Much like her, he was also trying to dull the incessant rumblings of worry, but his were stemming from more internal sources.

One. Two. Three.

He'd managed to wrestle himself off of the edge of the cliff that he'd found himself on earlier, but he was still a far cry from being able to call his condition 'stable'. On the rather long list of places he had where he never wanted to lose control, where they found themselves now was near the top, nestled between 'operating heavy machinery' and 'skydiving'. He took a deep breath, punctuating it with another sip.

Judy had noticed his change in disposition from the second they had arrived at the gala. She was nervous about the whole ordeal, and she expected the same from him, but this was a different type of nerve that she had come to recognize over the course of the last couple days.

She reached a hand across the table, and when Nick met her look with one of mild confusion, she pointed towards his hand and made a couple of small grabbing motions. Obliging, he reached out and took her hand in his own with a smile. She gave it an 'everything's going to be ok' squeeze, and then released it. It was an act that he deeply appreciated, but unfortunately it had exactly the opposite effect that she had intended. His worry was coming from a feeling of unworthiness this time, and was wrapped in the familiar trappings of familial grief that he had gotten oh so familiar with over the course of his life.

Sensing this, Judy once again took the initiative. "Talk to me about it."

He cocked an eyebrow with a smile. "So we're doing this again?"

"Can you honestly answer me and tell me that everything's OK?" She looked back at him, her eyes not challenging, but instead searching for affirmation in whichever direction it should fall. Their discussion this morning on the bed had been a step in the right direction, but she knew even then that it had all been a slow motion dodge around the real issue. She herself had been trying to avoid it to some extent, but the viability of that strategy was slowly but surely coming to a close.

Another sip. Another deep breath.

One. Two. Three.

He shook his head after a brief pause, punctuating it with a shrug of his shoulders.

"Then yes. Yes, we are doing this again."

"Are we going to go back and forth about how worthless I am again? Been a while since I've had a good pity party."

"Your last pity party was this morning, so it's still a bit early for another one, yeah?" She teased. She found it troubling how easy it was to pinch and prod him with his own perceived shortcomings, and she couldn't help but wonder if this was all doing more harm than good in the long run. But, as she'd noted what felt like forever ago now, these little back and forths and his own inwardly directed barbs didn't feel like deflections, nor did they feel particularly malicious. They were surprisingly lighthearted given the subject matter, and told of a mammal that had long ago come to terms with his own inability to heal. Scars given voice.

It was an interesting dynamic that they shared, to be sure. Potentially unique, occasionally insightful, and above all, absolutely necessary. Whether it was healthy or sustainable was a bridge that was still a few towns over.

"But… No," she continued, her tone dipping back towards sincere. "I want to know what's going on." She held his gaze. "Truthfully."

Nick's eyes dropped down to his empty glass, and-

"You stay here," she told him. "I'll be back with more drinks."

She'd intercepted his only remaining out before the thought could even manifest. And so it was that he found himself alone once more. Being left alone had proven to be a little on the dangerous side of things lately, but he trusted that he'd be able to keep it together long enough for her to return.

It also just dawned on him that she would have no idea what to get him, as her knowledge of his favored drinks started with beer and ended with probably a different beer'. Oh well, surprises are fun sometimes.

It took no longer than a couple of minutes for her to return, and, much as he suspected, she returned with a glass of beer. It was bordering on black in color, with a whisper thin layer of earth-colored foam topping it off. She sat it in front of him and then took her seat, another blue drink of her own in her hand.

Nick took a breath. "So, where were we?"

"I love you."

Cutting right to the chase, then. He smiled. "Just like that?" His smile was boring into her, searching, but for what she didn't know.

She took a deep breath and held it, leaning back in her chair. "It's a little bit more complicated than 'just like that'..."

Nick hummed gently.

"Does it bother you?"

He shook his head. "No. No, absolutely not. Exactly the opposite. I've got this…" He sighed, his own emotional fog had been building for years, and this was one of the first attempts he'd ever made into navigating it. "I've got this thing with being happy, I guess. I feel like I don't deserve it."

Judy looked at him, a not-quite-surprised tilt to her eyebrows. "If anyone deserves to be happy, it's you."

"I'm happy that you believe that."

She rubbed at her face, familiar with where he was trying to take this.

Nick deflated upon seeing her reaction, knowing he was the cause of it. "I'm trying." His voice was softer than she would have wanted it to be, threatening to drop back into that same darkness as before.

Desperate to take the conversation in any direction other than where it was heading, she looked around the room. Following the sweeping lights towards the far end of the hall, as convenient a distraction as any presented itself to her.

"Want to dance?" She asked, rising from her seat before he could answer.

"I thought you said you didn't dance,"

"I don't. Want to dance?"

Their dance began awkwardly as they both found their footing. Nick couldn't remember the last time he'd danced somewhere like this, and the closest experence Judy had with it couldn't be called 'dancing' at all, if you were to ask her. She'd term her attempts at it over the years as more of a controlled seizure, with rare occasions such as concerts being the only outlet for it.

Eventually though, as had been the theme for them recently, they were able to find a way to make it work. They began to follow each other's steps in an unplanned give and take as they moved slowly to the music.

For a few fleeting moments, the background faded into indistinct unimportance.

Much as it always did in times like these, Nick's mind retreated into itself. The way he used to live ultimately meant nothing to him. It was a means to an end, a wearilly traveled path of routine and reluctant acceptance of his place amongst the cogs. There were no friendships, only partnerships. No days off, only days wasted. No possibility for a future, only a long, twisting spiral into that same blackness that would eventually welcome each and every one of them all the same. There was no happy ending for him, nor anyone else, and they all knew it. It was a bucket of crabs dressed up in pageantry and a hazy definition of possibility.

Possibility.

The word stuck out to him. It the word that greased the wheels of the machine. They all knew that it was an unequivocally false assertion, but possibility was what kept them all going. The possibility of a better life tomorrow. The possibility of having three more guys in your corner than the guy who ran things across the street. The possibility of one day escaping the rat race and growing roots away from the uneasy tolerances and 'friendships' granted by a growing bottom line. The possibility of escape.

Once again, all completely impossible, and they had all known it, but it kept them going all the same. There was no future in it, so to keep themselves sane they kept their focus on the one day they would all call it quits.

Had he escaped? Had he defied the odds and gotten away scot-free?

No, he hadn't escaped. He had been rescued.

They were perfectly in step as they glided across the dance floor, the bubble surrounding them granting them all the space they could want to do with as they pleased. Judy took a fluid step backwards, twirling once beneath his outstretched hand, ending with a flourish and a muted laugh as the music momentarily swelled. She quickly closed the space between them once more, her smile widening as his hand resumed its position at her waist.

The tempo dipped, and they found themselves in a close embrace, gently swaying as one as the background blurred.

One. Two. Three.

Had it all been worth it? He couldn't help but wonder. His path in life, every single twist, turn, poor choice, broken promise, empty assurance, and sidestepped responsibility had ultimately resulted in him finding himself beneath the warm lights of this dance floor, sharing an embrace with the opposite side of his coin.

Had all those years been wasted? Had his life been spent playing an unnecessary role? What had it gotten him?

It had gotten him her. He might argue that he hadn't been given a choice in the matter, but he knew that was false. He could have walked away at any point and fallen back into step with the life he found familiar. He had been given a clear choice, and he had chosen. His choice brought with it the realization that his life had been meaningless back then, but that brought with it a rider: what did his life mean now?

Meaning in life is more than the voluntary adoption of responsibility. It would be convenient to tie it all up beneath that banner, of course, but there was so much more to it. Meaning is derived from a deceptively simple series of increasingly complex questions you have to ask yourself. They are questions that, by design, take a lifetime to answer.

Had it all been worth it? Did he deserve what he'd gotten? What should he do next?

What does she mean to him?

Not wanting do dwell on that immediately, as he feared where it would take him, he shuffled it around in his head before giving it voice. "What do I mean to you?"

She rest the side of her head against his chest as they danced. It took her a moment to respond. "Is this what has you all upset?"

"No." His thumb began to gently stroke her back. "No, but it'll get us there." He felt her exhale deeply into his shirt, her head staying right where it was.

What did he mean to her? He was an anchor in an uncertain sea, granting her stability in the day to day swells and sways of life. He was a touchstone of emotional possibility, showing how even the most unlikely of outcomes were as possible as any other. He was reassurance given form, and repentance given name. He was the end result of imperfection, simultaneously displayed as a cautionary tale and as a beacon of potential for all to see.

A simple question begets a simple answer. "You are everything to me." Her hands tightened around him as his did the same. "You know that. I hope you know that."

"This quickly?"

She hummed affirmatively into his chest.

Nick dipped his head, the bottom of his chin coming to rest just atop her head.

"It was quick, I won't argue. But doesn't it feel…" She fished around for the correct word.

"Right?" He supplied after a moment.

She nodded against him.

"I don't care what you think, or what you feel," she started. "You deserve to be happy."

"Do you really believe that?" He asked cautiously.

"I do. I don't care how long it'll take to get you to realize it, but you deserve it. You're perfect." They swayed back and forth on the dance floor. "You deserve it," she repeated quietly.

He knew she was telling the truth, and it terrified him, but for reasons completely different than those that were the source of his worry earlier in the morning. The flames of concern and doubt that had lit the fuse hours earlier were on the verge of being snuffed out completely, and for the first time in many, many years, he had his doubts that they would relight. She cared about him, and she wasn't afraid to let him know just how much. His honesty with her had earned him the same, and it was built upon a foundation that was all but unheard of for him.

Nick was no longer in this for himself. Such a simple change of perspective and direction, but it carried with it a potential larger than anything he'd ever known before. For the first time since his parents had died, he had someone willing to fight for him not out of some selfish desire to further their own goals, but from genuinely wanting to see him do better.

Nick was happy, and it no longer made him nervous.

They floated across the dance floor as he felt years of burden begin to crumble and fall away from him. He was happy.

He couldn't just leave it at that, though. No longer alone, he had someone else he had to make happy as well.

No, he didn't have to make her happy. There was no requirement to meet or terms to fulfill. He wanted to make her happy. Whether he would be able to do so was still up in the air, but he was going to try. This was just as new for him as it was for her, but if she was willing to put so much of her faith in him, who had been so profoundly broken for so long, then he was more than happy to do the same. There was no finish line to cross, nor were there specific guidelines to meet, and there were sure to be hiccups along the way, but right now none of that mattered. A world of unknown possibility was right in front of him, resting its head against his chest. To make himself happy, all he had to do was make her happy, and he knew just how to do it.

He took a deep breath, readying himself. Three simple words with an all but simple meaning, and then they would be off. Together.

Three. Two. One.

Author's Note:

First off: Sorry. Secondly: FUCK this chapter holy shit. This one fought me every step of the way. That still steaming pile of shit up there above this author's note is the third incarnation of this tapioca flavored miscarriage called a chapter. I'm honestly pretty happy with it, but I just want it to feel bad about itself because it gave me so much trouble writing. Thirty two thousand words typed total, and I only ended up scraping the shiny bits out and stapling them together long-form to get what you see here. Total word count is still higher than I wanted it to be (hopefully that makes up for it taking so long) and this is another one of those instances where it should have been two or three individual chapters (you can DEFINITELY still see the breaks where I intended one chapter to end and another to begin, but it's whatever) but ended up being smeared into one big one. Hope you enjoyed. Stay tuned. I love all of you. (Forreal though hit me up. Ya boy's lonely.)