Boilerplate Disclaimer: The various characters from the movie Zootopia are all owned by Disney the great and powerful. Any and all registered trade names property of their respective owners. Cheap shots at celebrities constitute fair usage.

For those interested in chronology, this takes place soon after Who Do You Trust? and before Symbiosis. And it explains instructions that Nick gave Judy in The Dead of the Night's High Noon.

I believe Ramblin' Jimmie Dolan wrote the lyrics to a song country/western singer Rex Allen, star of B movies & Dell comic books, recorded in 1952. My grandparents on the farm had the 78. No television on the farm. My brother and I spent time playing those records. I found the mp3 on a Russian site long before YouTube had it. They're probably reading my email now (and bored to tears). "Rack up the balls boys, put away the cues," was essentially a metaphor/warning that when your number's up, it's up.

Rack Up the Balls Boys

"Uh, Mirage?" Judy said to catch the cat's attention.

"What... Sorry. No charge. Lesson over. I'm just not..."

Judy jumped and sat on the edge of the pool table.

"Don't sit on the pool table," Mirage told her firmly.

"Tough. I want to talk to you for a minute, and I don't want to talk to your boobs."

"Something wrong with my boobs?"

"Nothing wrong with your boobs. I want to look you in the face. I don't know a lot of felines, but I have to say you all seem–"

"How many felines you actually know?"

"I told you, not many. But there's a panther detective I've worked with... Don't change the subject. I hate to stereotype, but you all seem a little jumpy. Even when a feline's relaxing there's a noise and *BAM* – on the feet and ready for a fight."

"Is there a point to this?" Mirage demanded.

"Yes. You are more jumpy and nervous than I've seen in anyone, ever."

"What do you expect me to be! In a week I've got the biggest match of my life! I've been hustled! National television! Everyone will know me, and I'm never going to be able to set up a hustle for myself – my career as a hustler is over!"

From his table on the other side of the pool hall Nick saw the cat's agitated movements and headed over to make sure Judy was safe, "Don't sit on the table, Carrots," he called as he got close. "Leaning on it is disrespect! Sitting on it–"

"I'm giving her a pass, this time," Mirage snarled. "If she has something to say."

"I'm trying to tell you not to worry, you–"

"Did you hear what I just said!"

"You're good! You're very good! You can beat him!"

"But he–"

Judy put a paw on the feline's shoulder, "He's good. He's not invincible. You can win, you can take him. But you need to relax. You're so tense... He can't beat you, but you can beat you. Don't defeat yourself."

Mirage looked at Nick, "Is she always Little Mary Sunshine? It's annoying as hell."

"He finds it endearing," Judy assured her, and pulled him close.

The cat rolled her eyes, "So, she explains what's going on in your brain now?"

"She thinks she does."

"And right now, he wants to kiss me," the rabbit announced, and pulled Nick's arm so that he leaned over and brought his lips within range of her own.

"That was not what I was thinking," the fox announced at the end of the kiss.

"Are you sure?"

"Quite sure."

Mirage snickered, "You didn't seem to mind."

"I didn't mind, but... Now I can't remember what I was going to say."

The pool hustler looked at the rabbit, "Powerful lips you got there. You two are now a couple?"

"Yes!" Judy answered, then glanced at Nick, half-fearing he might disagree. The fox simply smiled and nodded assent.

"I won the bet with Finnick?" asked Mirage.

"No," Judy blurted out.

"What bet?" demanded Nick.

"I had nothing to do with it!" Judy insisted, feeling her face warm with embarrassment.

"What bet?" Nick repeated.

"Remember that night you invited Finnick and me to your place for dinner, bunny cooked?"

"Yeah," Nick cautiously answered.

"Well, it was obvious to anyone with a brain that the rabbit had the hots for you in a big way and–"

"I didn't see that."

"I said anyone with a brain. I could phrase it any female could tell. Same thing. Anyway, the big-eared midget heard our private conversation and wandered back into the kitchen and claimed no fox could ever love a rabbit. It was like, you saw anyone but a canid as dirt or something–"

"I didn't think that!" Judy insisted.

"Let me tell the story. So I say an attractive female can get any straight male into bed, and short and ugly bets me you'll never screw the bunny. Payoff was six months from the dinner."

"It wasn't my idea!" Judy told him. She turned to Mirage, "And Nick and I have not had sex. We–"

"You're not gay, are you?" she asked the fox.

"I like the idea of a couple dating for a little while before they jump into bed. They should know it's what they both really want."

"I think it's pretty obvious what the rabbit wants," snickered Mirage. "And it's jumping your bones."

"What I want," Judy assured her, "is for Nick to be happy. We both need to feel comfortable with the idea."

"But if he said he was comfortable right this minute would you drag him out the door to your place or have him take you right here on... Sorry, crude bunny stereotype. I'm just so frustrated and tense I don't know what to do. I have a fitting tomorrow and–"

"Fitting?" Nick asked.

"Network or sponsor wants it to look good. He's in some black outfit with white accents. I'm going to be in white with black accents. If I can't win I can at least look good."

"You can win," Judy told her. "There was a best player before him, and there was a best player before that, and one before that. Maybe he was the best in the world ten years ago. It isn't ten years ago any more, and it's time for a new best player."

Mirage looked at Nick, "She sounds like she really believes it."

He shrugged, "She thinks you can do anything if you work hard enough."

"And I'm on the police force and Nick and I are now a couple," Judy reminded Mirage. "You've worked hard enough. You can do it."

Mirage managed her first laugh in weeks. "I win, and you've got free lessons for life... Or at least until I have to worry about you beating me."

Her phone rang, and Judy answered, "Hello?"

"Judy? Mirage. Nick gave me your number. Got a minute?"

"Sure. You sound excited."

"Want to thank you for encouraging me... Do you know the names of the companies that make pool equipment?"

"Uh, no."

"Okay then, names wouldn't mean anything to you. Everyone knows Sahara Slim is considered the best player in the world, but he's been so reclusive for years it hasn't done the game any good. A couple manufacturers want to hire me, send me around giving exhibitions, stuff like that. Even if I'm too well known to hustle I'm still going to be a professional, even if I lose."

"And if you win?"

"You still think I can?"

"I know you can."

"That kind of got mentioned in the discussion. The possibility of winning. If I can win it is boatload more money, including things like endorsements, personal appearances, and... I got to win first."

"You'll win."

"Glad I got one animal in my corner."

"Nick wants you to win."

"Nick wants me to win, but he's too cautious to believe it. He won't believe Slim is going to win either. He stays neutral."

"Don't I know it," Judy sighed.

"But you finally got him to commit... Well, sort of... Let me know when I win my bet with the dwarf."

"I don't know... That's kind of a personal thing to share."

"But the first time I see you after the two of you make love, I'll know it by the big smile on your face, right?"

"Uh, probably."

"Fold." Finnick announced and threw his cards in with a look of disgust.

Truckie stared long and hard at his hole cards, "I'll see your twenty and raise you one hundred," he told the others.

Sam saw the raise. Nick sighed, it was obvious to him that Truckie's raise of a full credit was pure bluff. His own cards weren't strong, but he felt certain he could beat Truckie. Sam tended to be cautious in bidding, and might have him beat, but Nick also saw the raise. There was a chance the river might change the odds in his favor.

"Can I bring anyone a cider?" Finnick asked with an uncharacteristic note of friendliness before going to Eric's kitchen for a cold one for himself.

"Thanks, yes," Ralph called, as he evaluated his own hole cards and decided whether to stay or fold.

As Sam raked in the chips and Truckie gathered the cards to deal the next hand Finnick casually announced, "A bit skint at the moment, but I got a sure thing–"

"You always have a sure thing."

"And you always lose."

"It's why you're always broke," finished Eric. "If you're looking for a loan, not one cent from me."

"But I can't lose," Finnick argued.

"Like you couldn't lose playing the ponies?"

"He told me he was going to win that race!"

"And you believed an equine? Biggest liars and braggarts around. They all claim they're the fastest, and strongest, and longest."

Ralph nodded in agreement, "Believing an equine is almost as crazy as believing a weasel."

"Met an honest weasel," Nick remarked. "I was in Bunnyburrow and–"

Eric chuckled, "Being introduced to her mom and dad?"

"Actually... Yes."

"Whose Mom and Dad?" demanded Sam.

Finnick's jaw dropped, "You went to meet her Mom and Dad?"

"Well, we were on a case, but, yeah."

The fennec drew a sigh of relief as Truckie told Sam, "His partner on the force, a rabbit." He turned to Nick, "So, the two of you..."

"We are now, officially a couple."

Eric shook his head in disbelief, "You and a rabbit? I have a cousin who–"

"You have a lot of cousins," Nick retorted, "Is this the one you introduced me to before?"

"Yeah, she's still single."

"I'm not surprised. I'll stay with Judy."

"The shit we would have given you back in high school," Eric mused.

"Back in high school?" demanded Nick. "I know darn well you'll be giving me shit from now on."

"Not necessarily," Truckie assured him. "The question is, will she cook when we play poker at your place?"

Sam asked, "She cooks?"

"Last time we played at Nick's place," Ralph explained. "Artichoke dip and baked brie."

Eric inquired, "Now that you and the rabbit are shacked up, can we still smoke cigars at your place?"

"And," Ralph wanted to know, "is it true what they say about sex with a bunny?"

"We're not shacked up. We're not having sex... yet. We're dating, exploring the relationship."

Eric rolled his eyes, "You're not getting any already? I thought you had to be married for years before that started."

"I notice you dropped your voice. Didn't want the wife to hear?"

"Are we here to play poker or not?" Sam objected, and Truckie dealt out hole cards.

A number of the guests at the match were interviewed for their opinions. Most were veteran players who realized that Mirage had been hustled in the first match, but would not say that on camera. On camera they tried to heighten the drama of the game. Sahara Slim might be rusty, or had failed to take the first match seriously. But the experts were unanimous in predicting he would win the return match.

"Judy Hopps," the announcer said, sticking a microphone in her face, "can I ask what Zootopia's finest is doing at the match? Do you expect any sort of trouble?"

"I'm a guest of– Nick Wilde, my partner, he's–"

"This is Nick Wilde, who assisted you in the Night Howler case?"

"More like partners. He and Mirage are friends... I guess I'm a friend too. I–"

Nick took the microphone. "Judy is not her best in front of a mike," he apologized. "Mirage and I are old friends. Judy has taken some lessons from her and we were honored to be invited as guests."

"Who do you think will win the match?"

Judy took the mike back, "Nick and I are both cheering for Mirage and look forward to her winning."

"You and microphones," Nick whispered as the announcer moved on for other interviews.

"I just panic. Hey, at least I didn't declare all predators a danger or tell the world I'm crazy in love with you."

"And for that I am grateful."

Mirage arrived looked flustered. She paused to say hi, "Running late," she apologized. "need to get dressed."

"Deep breaths," Judy advised. "You can win."

Mirage vanished for a dressing room. Judy tried listening to the scraps of conversation she heard from others there to watch the competition, but felt lost. "What's this fourteen one they're talking about?" she whispered to Nick.

"There are different games. You've played eight-ball for fun. For this match they're playing straight pool. It's got a couple names, but that's the fourteen one they're talking about. There are a lot of differences. One thing is this is call pocket. You have to say what ball you'll knock into which pocket. There're... It gets complicated, and it's not my sport. They're going to be five games in the match. Each game is to a hundred and twenty-five."

"A hundred and twenty-five what? How do you–"

"Get Mirage to explain you how it's played. She'll probably tell you than anything I say is wrong."

Television monitors played interviews with Sahara Slim and Mirage which had been filmed earlier in the week and were being broadcast to introduce the match when Finnick and a tiger entered the building. Security kept the tiger from coming closer, to the large feline's disgust, but Finnick showed the invitation which allowed him to enter the area for invited guests.

Nick nodded in the direction of the tiger and whispered, "One of the Kandhari brothers. I hope Finnick didn't borrow money for betting."

"Kandhari brothers?"

"You got a choice between sticking your paw in a wood-chipper while it's running or borrowing money from the Kandhari brothers, stick your paw in the wood-chipper."

A worried looking Finnick headed for them. "Why hasn't the match started?"

"It's not scheduled to start for a couple minutes. You didn't borrow money from the Kandharis, did you?"

"Do I look like an idiot?"

"What I asked was, did you borrow money from the Kandharis?"

"And I said, do I look like an idiot?"

"You came in with one of them."

"Doesn't mean anything. Not a thing."

The producer from SportsNet warned the audience the show was about to start, and threatening to have anyone who made noise during the actual match removed from the building. Slim was introduced first, to a hearty round of applause from the audience and cheers and whistles from Finnick which brought an assistant producer over to tell him to quiet down. Finnick remained completely silent as Mirage was introduced.

Judy almost felt a pang of jealousy as Mirage came out, the outfit was lovely, in the opinion of the rabbit. And Judy remembered that Nick and Mirage had worked together before the fox had worked with the fennec. "I never realized she's beautiful," she whispered. "Were you ever attracted to her?"

Nick gave her a puzzled look, "She's a feline. I never noticed." Then, sensing the reason for the question he whispered, "No reason to be jealous, Carrots," and kissed her cheek.

Mirage looked good on camera, but her nerves got the better of her in the first game and she lost badly.

Before the second game Judy reminded her of the need to relax.

"Easier said than done," Mirage grumbled.

She played much better in the second game, managing an early lead and desperately holding on. SportsNet went to long commercial break after her victory.

"I let you win," the zoril told her, "got to keep up the tension."

She spoke to Nick and Judy during the break. The rabbit congratulated her, "See, you can do it."

"He let me win."

"No he didn't," Nick told her. "He may have intended to to let you win, but you took it fair. He told you that to put you off his game. You have him rattled."

"You're just saying that to–"

"You know I'm good at reading other animals. I saw it. You beat him fair."

"And you're telling me the truth?"

"Have I ever lied to you?"

"No... You're the one animal who never lied to me. Why it hurt when you dumped me for the midget."

"I didn't dump you. You know that. We were growing in different directions in our hustles."

"True. I just appreciate the fact you never lied to me."

"I'll never lie to a partner."

"True enough," she grinned and the two exchanged a paw bump.

After Mirage returned to the game Judy asked, "You never lie to a partner?"

"Nope. Anyone else, but you've got to be honest with your partner. Which means never ask me a question like, 'Do these slacks make my ass look fat?' unless you want to hear the truth."

"We're partners."

"You're not sure?"

"I'm reminding you of the fact. Do you love me?"

He chuckled, "Love you, Carrots," and gave her a hug.

Sahara Slim clearly did not want to lose the third game, he wanted to retake the feeling of control. Nick was right, the loss in the second game had rattled him, and he didn't play his usual game in the third, which Mirage won by and even bigger margin.

The old champion didn't even try to bluff the feline with a claim of letting her win the third game. He used the commercial break between games to regain focus. Clearly Mirage was better than he had thought. But he had mastered the game before she was born and while he had the strength to hold a cue stick he felt he could beat anyone.

The fourth game slowed as strategy became as important as skill. Mirage started the fourth game over-confident from her two wins, and found herself behind. She adapted her style of play to the new conditions, and gained on the old player's lead, but was unable to eliminate it.

The match tied at two games each, Slim spoke with Mirage in the break before the fifth game. "You're one hell of a player. Can't remember the last time I beat anyone as good as you."

"You haven't beat me yet."

"True enough. Well, win or lose, this is in my top five matches," he told her and stuck out his paw.

She accepted the paw, and shook it. "This is my top match, period."

"They're slow," Judy complained in a whisper to Nick during the final game of the match.

"Shhhush," he responded. He understood the game better than Judy, and felt the tension all the other spectators felt as Slim and Mirage analyzed the position of the balls on the table before every shot.

The old zoril scowled as he examined the table. "Twelve, corner pocket," he told the referee and indicated which corner he meant. "And I'm taking a safety."

Judy tugged on Nick's sleeve, "A safety?"

"His turn is over, even if he sinks the object ball. But he's going to try to leave the cue ball in a position where Mirage has got nothing."

Mirage studied the position he left her. The seven and nine balls had her hemmed in, with no chance to sink either. Two commentators, providing the voice-over for the match, offered their views of the situation. It was fortunate they worked from a broadcast booth and she was unable to hear them. Both of them considered her position hopeless. She finally called "One ball, corner pocket."

She took a deep breath and raised her cue stick almost vertically in the air. The massé shot caused the cue ball to literally jump over the seven, it kissed the one, dropping it into the corner pocket and backspin brought it back where she could call the nine as her next object ball, "Side pocket."

Slim stared in disbelief. He'd assumed she was incapable of making the shot. He might have made it, and kicked himself for not trying. Mirage, presented with no other option had made the shot, and began a run which continued even with the game and match over.

It was the longest run ever televised. When she hit three hundred seventeen the producer asked her to take a break for another commercial. The zoril came over and engaged in whispered conversation with her.

Nick glanced around for Finnick, wondering if the short fox could hear what was being said, but his friend had moved over near a wall and was looking sick. "He must have bet against Mirage. Hope he didn't lose much."

The referee nodded to Mirage to resume her run, but she gestured to the zoril who coughed gently to catch the attention of those running the cameras. "I've lost the match. But I'm offering three thousand credits to Mirage if she ends her run now." He nodded at the cat, and the camera swung over to her.

"I'm flattered he thinks I've got a chance to set a record. But I happen to know the existing record, and there is no way I'm ever going to beat it. The record was set by the greatest player in the history of the game. Cue ball, side pocket," she announced, and deliberately scratched, ending her run.

The commentators informed the viewing audience that the longest verified run, five hundred twenty-six, belonged to Sahara Slim.

But the comments remained unheard by those at the match. The two opponents hugged briefly, and then most of the crowd swarmed around Mirage to offer congratulations. Nick and Judy hung back, but after receiving the compliments of strangers the feline came over to them.

"Why didn't you try to set the record?" Judy chided.

"You know what the record is?"

"No."

"I do. No way I was going to beat it. Greatest run in my life, and it wasn't even close. He offered me five grand privately... I must have had him rattled. After the winning the match he had no idea what I might do. I told him offer me the three in the broadcast and–"

"You let two grand go?" asked Nick, "Sure you're Mirage?"

"It was on tape, that meant he couldn't go back on his word and not pay. More importantly, making the offer public says he thought I had a chance and was admitting I'm the best player there is, now. But even if he acknowledged me, I called him the best player in the history of the game – and there's a damn good chance he is. I'll stroke anyone's ego for– Hell, I might even stroke Finnick's ego for three grand. But that's all I'd stroke."

"I knew you could win," Judy told her, and gave Mirage a hug.

"Thanks. You're all right, for a cop. But right now I am tired, drained, exhausted, and all in. Not necessarily in that order. I'm going to collect my winnings, sign contracts before they have a chance to re-negotiate – they offered me good terms for winning when they were pretty sure I'd lose – and then I'm going to sleep for forty-eight hours."

Nick offered his own congratulations, and then he and Judy left.

After their second session at the Otter Murray Dance Study Judy and Nick slid into the same side of a booth at a small diner.

"You looked good tonight," she assured him.

"And you always look good," he said and she snuggled closer.

"Flattery will get you everywhere. I'll even spring for carrot cake and herbal tea tonight."

"What's the name of that kid you were with?"

"His name is Francis."

"Well, with a dance instructor named Francis you can relax a little. Dance instructor named Bloodaxe? You pay real close attention to everything she says."

The server took their order.

"Oh, talking with Finnick today, heard an update on Mirage."

"You got an update on Mirage from Finnick?"

"Yep. Apparently she used part of her winnings to purchase a slave."

"Slavery is illegal," she reminded him.

Nick closed his eyes and placed the paw of the arm not wrapped around Judy to his forehead. "Quiet. I'm reading your mind." After moment he opened his eyes, "You want me to tell the story, and then you'll kiss me for being so clever in getting your attention and how well I tell the tale."

"Almost right," Judy agreed. "You missed that you're supposed to give me a little kiss first before you start?"

"Sorry," he apologized, and gave her a fast kiss. "I'm new to mind reading. Anyway, after we left the match and Mirage signed her contracts she was leaving when she saw Finnick being threatened by a tiger – a Khandari wanting money."

"Finnick said he didn't borrow money from them."

"No, when I asked he came back with the question if I thought he was stupid. And apparently he is. He borrowed fifteen grand, and was supposed to pay back sixteen grand after the match."

"That's usury!"

"It's vigorish. The Khandari brothers aren't a bank, or a charity. But were willing to collect two-hundred fifty a week for loan extensions. It wouldn't count toward loan repayment. It just keeps your legs from getting broken that week."

"And it would require more payments to work off the sixteen thousand."

"You'd be paying extensions forever. Finnick is broke. And the tiger was deciding if he should break one of Finnick's limbs right then or give him twenty-four hours to come up with the first extension when Mirage came over and asked what was going on. She offered to pay fifteen grand for his debt and–"

"That wonderful of her, she doesn't even like him."

"Let me finish, please. Anyway, the tiger says there's no profit in that. They look bad if they make loans with no profit. She offered fifteen grand and two cents, because two cents is all Finnick's worth. He says leaving Finnick in pieces will send a warning to anyone else who tries to welsh on a loan. She says they'll still be out fifteen grand and that sends a message they do a sloppy job running their business. So, in Finnick's words, she bought him."

"How is he going to pay her back the fifteen thousand?"

"Sixteen, the loan repayment was sixteen and she wants it all - but she's not charging additional interest. Her contract allows a personal assistant. When she's on the road doing exhibits she needs someone to drive, reserve hotels, find places to eat, handle bags and equipment, hand out product catalogs, take orders... She'll keep him busy. She collects his salary and will give him something to live on, but the rest goes to pay back."

"And if he refuses to work?"

"She promised to sell the debt back to the Khandari brothers for half its face value."

Their orders arrived.

"So, uh..." Nick began nervously as they ate. "I was, uh, thinking that maybe after our next lesson we might be ready to go out and dance in public."

"Really?" the excited bunny asked. "It means everyone sees us as an interspecies couple."

"That doesn't bother me. I just don't want to have anyone make fun of my dancing. And, uh, maybe it'll be time to, uh, sort of raise the level."

"Raise the level?"

"Uh, yeah, if you–"

"Hold on, I'm going to read your mind." She slid her carrot cake to the side, out of the range of his fork while her eyes were closed. She raised a paw to her forehead. "The vision is coming. I see us eating dinner, on the dance floor in each others arms. It looks like we're going back to an apartment... Do I see Finnick losing another bet?" She opened her eyes. "Is that the level you mean?"

He nodded 'yes' and swallowed.

She hugged him tightly. "I... Nick?"

"Yes?"

"What happened to my carrot cake?"