Work Text:
Nick Wilde looked up from his half-melted pawpsicle just in time to see Judy slipping silently out of his bedroom door—again. Nick cast that familiar, sly glance over the rim of his sunglasses. In the last twenty minutes, Judy had infiltrated his side of the apartment—specifically his closet—three times, looking as if she were on a secret mission. And if this was a secret mission, Judy was failing miserably.
Nick rolled his eyes involuntarily, but the slight, treacherous wag of his tail made everything obvious: When it came to Judy, Nick could never truly be angry.
Still, seeing Judy carry his belongings from the wardrobe with such great care for the third time brought only one fact to mind: his famous green, Hawaiian-print shirt had been missing for quite a long time. And the police uniform tie he had left on the couch last night... well, that had vanished too. Of course, the disappearance of anything work-related didn't exactly upset him, but that didn't change the fact that it was weird.
Yes, his final verdict was this: Nearly everything he owned had vanished into thin air. And Nick solved enough cases as a cop; this time, he decided to take a more direct approach.
"Hey, Carrots!"
Judy froze where she stood. Her ears shot straight up, and her nose twitched with tension. She hunched her shoulders like a guilty child without turning around. And to be honest, Judy being nervous was a very rare occurrence.
"Yes?" Judy asked, her voice coming out three octaves higher than it should have.
Nick tossed the popsicle stick into the trash can like he was shooting a basket and approached her with slow, relaxed steps. Still, he was careful to keep some space between them. He asked gently—or at least, as gently as Nick could manage:
"Do you want to explain to me where my favorite shirt—which, as you know, brings out my emerald green eyes perfectly—has disappeared to right now? Or have you gone into the second-hand clothing business and are funding it from my wardrobe? If so, I have connections in the underground. We can make a lot of money; police work was getting boring anyway."
Judy spun around to face him. She clasped her hands behind her back, clearly trying to hide something.
"What? Don't be ridiculous, Nick. Just... uh... spring cleaning! Yes, I'm doing spring cleaning. That shirt... was very dusty. Everything of yours seems to be allergic to cleaning."
Nick raised a single eyebrow. That famous, annoying smirk spread across his face.
"Carrots, we are in November. Leaves are falling outside. What spring are you talking about?"
Judy’s eyes darted around evasively. She was cornered, but she had no intention of giving up. She adopted that stubborn police officer stance and puffed out her chest.
"Look, Nick," she said, her voice suddenly turning serious. "This is a scientific situation, okay? In mammals of the Leporidae family, cortisol levels increase due to seasonal light changes. This triggers the urge for environmental regulation and creating a safe space. So, that shirt of yours is just a part of a biological equilibrium element right now."
Nick stayed silent for a few seconds. This sentence, containing too many terms for a fox brain to digest, smelled like school, and Nick was definitely not one of the "bright kids" at school. So, he couldn't help but chuckle.
"Wow... Did you just read a biology encyclopedia to tell me you swiped my shirt? That is the smartest yet most ridiculous excuse I have ever heard."
Judy's ears drooped slightly with embarrassment, but she didn't step back. "It's not nonsense! It's instinctual!" she insisted, attempting to flee toward her room. She straightened her body with rabbit-specific agility and sprinted down the corridor.
But Nick was faster. With quick fox steps, he cut off Judy's path and nudged the door slightly ajar. And the view he saw wiped that cynical smile right off his face.
In the corner of the room, in that sheltered space between the bed and the wall, there was a pile.
Pillows, blankets... But mostly, Nick's things.
His missing ties, that green shirt, even the ZPD sweatshirt he thought the dryer had eaten last week. They were all gathered together, forming a small, soft hollow in the center where Judy could curl up and sleep.
Nick knew his instincts as a fox very well. But to see a rabbit... a prey, wrapping herself in a predator's scent to feel safe?
This tore down the walls around Nick's heart harder than any humor or sarcasm ever could.
"This..." he managed to say, his voice full of surprise. It was far from his usual nonchalant tone; it was soft. "This is my scent, Judy."
The air was dominated by the smell of light rain from the street, a bit of earth, and definitely a spicier note. Nick's scent...
Judy lowered her head, her face burning bright red. The brave police officer was gone, replaced by a vulnerable rabbit.
"It just... helps me calm down," she murmured, her voice so quiet it was almost inaudible. "It feels like home."
Nick's ears pinned back with emotional intensity. It was so instinctual that he couldn't even manage to mock her or say, "Admit you're in love with me." There was a lump in his throat. Nick's pack was Judy. And apparently, Judy's pack was Nick.
For Judy to choose his scent to find peace in a world where nature dictated she should fear him... This was more valuable than any medal Nick had ever received in his life. This was love... And Nick had grown up believing he would never be loved.
He said nothing.
Slowly, he walked over to the "nest." While Judy looked at him with worry, wondering ‘Is he going to be mad?’, Nick sat right in the middle of the pile of ties and shirts.
He patted a pillow to adjust it, made some room for himself, and then wore that classic, half-cocked smile—but this time, a much warmer version of it.
"Alright, Fluff-ball," he said, patting the empty space beside him. "But let's agree on this: the soft side of the pillow is mine. And if I see even one carrot stain on my shirt, I'll have you transferred to Traffic Duty."
Judy’s face lit up. First, she looked at him with disbelief, then, with that familiar energy, she hopped over and curled up next to Nick in the safe nest she had built. She rested her head on Nick's chest—which she no longer needed to steal
.
"Deal, Slick," she said, closing her eyes peacefully. "Deal."