Chapter Text
No one in their right mind would ever want to live in a place like Bunnyburrow.
Maybe that's my bias as a fox speaking. But when the train pulled into the podunk station, I was greeted by the sea of a hundred rabbit ears from the platform of the station. Then there was the carrot decor. Colors of orange and green at every corner. Absolutely distasteful.
Not that I hated bunnies, mind you. My best friend, Jack, was an arctic hare, after all.
But when I had signed up to join the police force, the last thing I had expected or wanted was to be pulled into one of Zootopia’s “outreach programs.” I hoped to be placed in precinct one, like Jack had done two years prior. But I suppose when you fail the academy final exam two times in a row and manage to get your badge by the skin of your teeth, you can't exactly complain where they assign you.
Having Jack keep me company on the ride was a small comfort.
[How bad is it?] He asked me over texts. [Pitchforks waiting for you? They chasing you into the windmill yet, Barkenstein?]
[Barkenstein was the doctor, jerkwad.]
[Yeah, well, I never paid attention to those old movies anyway. Come on, Nick. I've never stepped outside the city my whole life. Describe it for me. I'm curious to hear how the other bunnies live.]
I sighed and collected my bags.
Most of what I owned could fit into one travel suitcase, stuffed to bursting with clothes and bathroom necessities. Light travel for moving into a new place. The other case had my guitar in it, the only form of entertainment I had brought with me outside of my brand new cellphone.
[You know, you could just break away from your exciting job in precinct one, Officer Savage. I know that’s hard, given how you have to save the city every other day. You could bring all your hot air with you when come visit me. It'll be marvelous for sailing.]
[Why? Do they have a lake there?]
I looked around after stepping off the train. Even though Jack was over two hundred miles away, I thought the gesture of surveying my new home would at least humor him before I responded to him again.
[No. But remember that other horror movie I showed you? The Kits of the Korn?]
[The one with all the murderous zealot children? Yeah. That one was hilarious.]
[Well, I think I'd much prefer that over Bunnyburrow. Goat psychopaths and all.]
[High praise from you. I'll have to take my next vacation time there.]
I was being unfair for the sake of playing with Jack's imagination.
In truth, things were exactly how I expected them to be when I heard the name Bunnyburrow. Past the train station there were farmlands as far as the eye could see. I spied the occasional barn or building on the horizon. But what distracted me was the literal horde of rabbits gathered around the road leading from the station.
A colorful sign that made an irritating ticking noise put a number to the bunny head count.
“Eighty million rabbits, huh?”
I muttered it loudly to allow one of the nearby locals to overhear me. Perhaps they could correct me so my head didn't explode trying to comprehend the logistics of such a number. When no one humored the dumb city fox gawking at the sign, I decided to entertain myself further. I snapped a picture of the sign before fiddling with my messenger.
“Send. To. Jack.”
I waited as the poor service battled with my phone. It would have been easier to send a bomb through the mail. Jack finally responded after a good five minutes when the crowd had died down.
[Daaaaang. I feel sorry for the poor flatfoot who has to manage that podunk. Oh. Wait.]
Even though I was clicking my tongue through my teeth, I had to smile.
[That's Sheriff Wilde to you, buddy. Technically, I outrank you now.]
[Sorry. Can't hear you from my comfortable desk in the AC. Aren't you supposed to be working now too? Or are they paying you to sightsee?]
[You tell me. I don't see my ride.]
My orders had been pretty vague following my graduation from the academy.
I had been pulled aside after getting my badge during the ceremony by a zebra from the Mammal Resources in the ZPD. Apparently, my scores in physical training placed me as far away from Precinct One as possible. I wasn’t like Jack in that regard.
Jack and I had entered the academy together when we were both twenty three years of age. Jack put on airs, passing everything they threw at him with flying colors. Meanwhile I struggled with jogging a mile let alone running through a desert biome at 6 AM every day. Jack blew through classes in one year. I was left behind for another two as I tried to get my physical training to passable levels.
Despite all that, I wasn't jealous of Jack.
We both had our strengths. Mine just happened to involve using my tongue more than my brawn. Of course, outside of interrogation, charisma was a hard skill to test. Jack had given me all the support in the world, even being my personal trainer for the months when I couldn’t be asked to try. I just barely made it through my third annual finals, passing only from high marks in law. I always had a knack for memorizing the loopholes, even if it put me at the very bottom of the class.
I couldn’t complain. First fox of the ZPD, with the first rabbit as a good buddy of mine. Mom was certainly proud of that and threw a big party for all three of us. Me, Jack, and her. Our close knit family.
I suppose that was why I felt tired and out of place on my first assignment.
There’s Nicholas Wilde, standing at the Bunnyburrow station in his civies carrying his guitar. He’s further from home than he’s ever been in his entire life. His only orders were to take the 7 AM train into Bunnyburrow to assume the vacant position of town sheriff. The deputy was supposed to be there to pick me up and take me to the station to get my introductions in order. But thirty minutes since I had arrived and the platform had completely emptied of rabbits.
I debated walking down the dirt road in vain hope of finding some sort of civilization outside of the train station. The farms went on and on forever, like I was in the nexus of the universe. But before I could commit to the thought of randomly scouting the area, I spied a police vehicle speeding down the bumpy street. Better late than a lost fox wandering the countryside.
Couldn’t say my deputy impressed me much, tardiness aside.
When he stepped out of the driver seat, I saw his gut before I saw his face. The rabbit was shorter than me, but more than made up for it in his width. I could hear him wheezing just from sitting up in the driver’s seat. There was thin brown fur under his wide rim cap and he was so slow that I had time to shoot a quick text out to Jack.
[Ride’s here. Reminds me of that new cheetah you described in the ZPD.]
The deputy waited patiently as I put my phone down. His smile showed a single silver bucktooth and his voice had that thick southern drawl I knew from many a movie night spent with Jack.
“Nick Wilde?”
“Not many other foxes around here to mistake me for anyone else.”
The deputy laughed. “Have to say, we’ve never had a fox cop before in the burrows.”
“Well, there’s a first time for everything,” I said, stretching out my paw to shake. “Deputy…?”
“Slack. Hank Slack.”
My phone buzzed as I pulled away from the rabbit, with Jack’s first impressions of my new partner.
[Mammals like that care more about donuts than they do actual police work.]
Riding along the dirt road was as bumpy as I expected it to be.
Hank was doing a disservice to the stereotype of rabbits having poor eyesight and I got real nervous whenever he glanced off the road. Somehow, he could maintain his cheerful demeanor despite nearly skidding into a mailbox.
“So, Nick...Can I call you Nick?”
“I don’t think me objecting is going to stop you, so go for it.”
“Heh, true enough. So. Any ideas on what we’re supposed to be doing?”
“I was hoping you could tell me, considering I’m new in town.”
“Well, most of the other sheriffs just mosied over to the station and stayed there all day. Some of them had the habit of breaking into the booze before noon. That’s one tradition that I was hoping you might share.”
I honestly couldn’t tell if the rabbit was playing me for a laugh or being completely serious in his delivery. He nailed the deadpan tone perfectly. Even though there were about twenty questions I could ask from his statement alone. I started with the first in the long line of concerns.
“The other sheriffs?”
“Yup! You’re the fifth in the last five years. They come and then they're gone for some time before anyone realizes they’ve left.”
“I’d hate to continue that trend” I spoke honestly.
“Don’t plan on sticking around?”
“Oh, I plan on staying as long as I have to. But this entire situation was just sort of bull-rushed onto me. And I’m a city fox, at heart.”
“Ah,” Hank said with an understanding smile. “You’re waiting for a position in the city to open up.”
We had all been told in the academy that positions in Precinct One were given to only the best of the best. Or, at least, those with strong references failing that. There was a very good reason for that. The city saw the most crime and danger, with everything between mob bosses to lowly pickpockets. I had been hearing firsthand accounts from Jack consistently for two years.
But the city was where I wanted to be. It was loud, scary, and lonely at times. But it was also home and I had known it my entire life. Completely unlike the burrows, which were so quiet that I could actually hear my bones grind as I moved. Being twenty six, I was too young to be thinking about my age.
“Well, that’s no surprise,” Hank continued as if I had answered him. “That’s what happened to two of them. Them being the previous sheriffs. They were waiting for better positions in places closer to home for them. One got fired after getting caught drunk on the job; he was my favorite. And the last one, a pig, burnt out and joined the state troops after she ticked off the mayor one too many times.”
“I’m sensing a pattern of degrading quality.”
“Hah, maybe. What’s that say about you then?”
I played with the badge given during my graduation ceremony. It was all I had to prove my status as sheriff. No uniform. No hat. Just a dumb fox with a guitar, half a wardrobe of clothes, and a cellphone. And dreams of home.
“Nothing good,” I said with a smile. “But I aim to impress. And I don’t scare easily. I guarantee you’ve never had a sheriff quite like me before.”
“Well, we’ll see how you fair then, Nick. Not much to do in the ways of work around here, if you were looking to make a good impression. The best thing you could do to speed your career is to make good with the mayor and meet folks.”
That made sense. Recommendations and all that.
“I might just do that. What’s the mayor’s name?”
“Hopps. Stuart Hopps. You’ll meet him soon enough, I’d wager. Hard not to run into the Hopps around here.”
Hank was right about one thing. There was very little to do in regards to work around the office.
We arrived at the police station at around ten. It was a dinky little shack off the side of the main street with four rooms. One main entrance, one holding cell, one interrogation room and one office to fit the both of us. There was no restroom. Instead, we had an outhouse out back. And a poor one, at that. It was a lesson I learned the hard way after holding in my bladder from the train ride.
My office was shared with Hank, who sat in the corner with what amounted to a grade school desk for a rabbit with his gut. Not that he seemed to mind. He was content with watching the TV propped up in the corner of the ceiling, playing some boring sitcom from the day shows. My own personal space was a minefield, if ever there was one.
The last sheriff didn’t do me any favors when she took off.
The first thing that greeted me was a stack of papers, unfiled and unlabelled. It took until noon to sort through them all and I realized they were mostly minor complaints and reports. The sort of things that don’t really matter but can get annoying en masse. Jack would call it busy work. When I cleared off the paper, dating and sorting it into the nearby file cabinet, I found a decent sized desk to call my own.
But following that morning exercise, and a quick lunch of subs from the local gas station, there was absolutely nothing to keep me occupied.
I had to make sure that the office phone was even plugged into the wall around 4 PM. That gave Hank a good chuckle as he stopped to look up from his soap operas.
“I told you, Nick. Not much to do around here. Unless you want to go on traffic duty out on the interstate.”
That didn’t sound very appealing on a hot summer day when the AC in the one cruiser we had was broken.
Besides that, I was uncomfortable enough as it was. The uniforms left for me were all rabbit sized and I had to settle for the largest we had. That still meant the sleeves were too short and the buttons was too tight. I had to roll up the cuffs and undo the top rows just to breathe easier. At least the hats were one-size-fits-all.
By sundown, I was familiar with every millimeter of our small confined space.
My phone was nearly dead after my attempts to use it as entertainment. At 10%, I realized that it was probably a dumb idea to kill my one source of communication when I didn’t even know where my apartment was in town yet. And I didn’t feel like digging out my charger and making a mess of my bag. So, I was bored. And when I get bored, dangerous side projects happen to keep my mind occupied.
I was in the middle of creating a styrofoam cup castle on my desk when we got an actual call. A typical thirty minutes before quitting time. Hank laughed as cups went everywhere and I scrambled across the table to reach the phone. I didn’t even fully think about what I was supposed to say before I answered.
“Bunnyburrow Police Department.”
“Hey, is Hank there? Could you tell him the hoodlums are at it again at the train station? Thanks.”
“Again?” I asked. “Wait, what?”
The line went dead and I sighed.
“TV off,” I ordered to Hank as I grabbed the keys for the cruiser. “Something’s going on at the train station.”
“So late to closing? How about we just phone this one in till morning, Nick?”
“Come on. I’m no happier about a late call than you are. But I don’t remember where this place is, so you’re going to have to drive me there.”
Hank’s mood did not improve the cramped space of my passenger seat.
Even with my advanced night vision as a fox, the twilight of the countryside took some adjustment. The rabbits were winding down for their early day on the farm, leaving an empty street on our drive. I glanced at the clock on the dashboard; it wasn’t even 7 PM yet.
“The call mentioned some hoodlums,” I said to try and cull the deputy's ire. “This sort of thing happen often?”
“It was probably the Station Master, Tony,” Hank spoke with a dull tone. “It’s just kids being kids, Nick. You’re best leaving it alone.”
“If it’s just kids being kids, that’s all the more reason to scare ‘em straight. Sounds like this is a regular occurrence too. Shouldn’t it be our job to stop this sort of thing?”
Hank just hummed.
I would have given him more trouble if I didn’t start to recognize where we were. After the long wait for Hank that morning, I had grown familiar with the train station and the sights around it.
“Park off to the side,” I ordered. “Don’t want to spook them, wherever they are. You can wait here, if you want.”
The kids were being far from subtle in their debauchery.
I could hear them hooting and hollering even a whole hundred yards away from the cruiser. I kept low in the grass as I stepped out of the car and let my natural senses take over.
Suddenly, I was a predator stalking some unsuspecting prey as I came upon the scene right near the rails.
There were five of them. All prey, like my nose had detected. They were giggling over the stupid Bunnyburrow population sign I had taken a picture of earlier. I squinted to see that the hoodlums spray painted over the lettering, crossing out the word “Population” and replacing it with the word “Punks.” They had even crossed out the lower welcome sign with “Podunk” instead.
I certainly didn’t see the humor in it.
A giddy sensation rose in my stomach as I kept low to the grass. Secretly, I think I had always wanted to be that cop who got to scare the crackers out of some kids for misbehaving. Not punish them, but just slap them on the wrist. Give them a story to tell to their friends at school.
In the rush, I neglected to watch my feet. A convenient twig snapped between my toes. Ten ears shot up into the air.
All the kids were rabbits judging by how high their ears rose. Though I was obscured by the grass, they were looking straight at me. They knew I was there and were prepared to scatter at the first sign of danger.
Barreling out of the bush like a savage was sure to send them running. I did the only reasonable thing I could think of in that situation—Maintain the professional composure of a police officer. Maybe they wouldn’t flee.
That was too much to hope for.
As soon as they caught wind of my police hat, they tore off in random directions faster than I could identify myself.
“Police! Freeze!”
I was slow for a fox, even with all the police training under my belt. Not to mention, they had their head start and advantage in numbers as I wasn’t sure which direction to go. But luck was on my side as one of the rabbits had a limp, given by how she hopped off using only her right foot. I could tell she was female by her grunts, which only intensified when I grabbed her by the wrist.
“Let me go, you stupid fox!”
Even with the lame leg, she put up quite the fight, kicking me all the way to the car as I dragged her.
“Come on now,” I grunted. “If I let you go, you’re just going to take off.”
“Exactly!”
At least she was honest about it . Wasn’t helping her case much though.
I tried my best not to be rough with her. But, with her squirming, that was proving to be a challenge. A thought occurred that if I identified myself to her, maybe she’d calm down.
“I’m Officer Nicholas Wilde. The new sheriff from Zootopia.”
“Pleased to meet you. I’m who cares, from up yours.”
Apparently manners were also too much to hope for in the burrows...
“Very clever, sweetheart. Did you come up with that one yourself?”
It was hard to get a good look at her from behind.
It didn’t help that she was dressed in almost all black, from her hoodie to the shredded jeans. Her ears each had a few earrings to them, going up and stopping before they reached the top; it was like she had changed her mind halfway through the piercings. Most of all were her eyes, which I caught whenever she turned around to snarl at me. Wild and purple.
It surprised me to see Hank pull himself from the car upon our arrival. I didn’t think the deputy had the motivation to stand.
“What did you do?” he hissed through his silver teeth.
“Caught one of them,” I replied. “Relax, Hank. We’re just taking her in to call her parents.”
The plan was just to scare her. But it was Hank who looked scared.
“Nick, that’s Judy Hopps . The mayor’s daughter.”
