Chapter Text
The chapel was smaller than Judy had expected. And a lot more grey.
Not modest, just… intimate in every wrong way. The kind of place where voices carried even when whispered, where every movement felt observed, recorded, remembered. Sunlight filtered through narrow stained-glass windows in fractured colors, painting the white floor in soft reds and golds. It smelled faintly of old paper and polished wood.
And impending marriage.
Judy adjusted the simple ring on her finger for what had to be the tenth time in the last minute. It wasn’t even real—cheap metal, ZPD-issued, probably ordered in bulk—but it felt heavier than it should. Like it meant something.
It didn’t.
It absolutely did not.
Beside her, leaning back against one of the pews like this was any other lazy Tuesday, stood Nick Wilde. His tie slightly crooked, sleeves rolled just enough to look intentional. His ears flicked once, casual and observant, like he wasn’t about to commit to a legally questionable undercover operation.
“Carrots,” he murmured, not looking at her, “if you keep staring at that ring, people are going to think you’re having second thoughts.”
Judy exhaled sharply. “I’m not having second thoughts.”
“Mm.” A beat. “Third, then?”
She shot him a look. “We’re minutes away from pretending to get married for an investigation, Nick. I think I’m allowed a *few* thoughts.”
He finally turned his head, green eyes glinting with something between amusement and something quieter, harder to pin down.
“Relax,” he said lightly. “We say our lines, sign some papers, catch a corrupt priest, and Bogo makes it all disappear before lunch.”
“That’s not how paperwork works,” Judy muttered.
Nick’s grin widened. “It is when the sloths are in a good mood.” The joke didn't land as he had hoped so Nick added, "Besides good ol' buffalo butt got it covered."
Judy huffed, but it softened into something almost like a smile before she could stop it.
A door creaked softly at the front of the chapel. The priest—*their* priest—moved into position, robes swaying gently as he arranged something on the altar.
Judy’s posture straightened immediately, shoulders squaring, ears lifting. Focus snapped back into place like muscle memory.
“Okay,” she said under her breath. “Game face. Loving, devoted couple. We’ve known each other for—what was it?”
“Three years,” Nick replied smoothly. “Met in university. You were impressed by my charm, I immediately loved your—”
“—dedication to justice,” Judy cut in quickly.
“Was going to say ‘height,’ but sure, we can go with that.”
She elbowed him lightly and Nick didn’t move away.
“Just follow the plan,” she said, quieter now. “We get through the ceremony, we stall for time, backup moves in once he confirms the transaction.”
“And then we ride off into the sunset, annulment paperwork in hand,” Nick added.
Judy nodded.
It was simple. Clean. Follow through, act normal, catch the bad guy.
A pause settled between them. Not uncomfortable, just… there.
Nick glanced at her again, this time more openly. His gaze dipped briefly to the ring on her finger, then back to her face.
“You nervous?” he asked.
She hesitated.
It wasn't about the mission. Not really.
“…No,” she said.
Nick studied her for a second longer than necessary, like he didn’t quite believe her.
Then, softer, almost teasing, but not entirely:
“Good. Wouldn’t want my bride getting cold paws on me.”
Judy rolled her eyes, but her grip on the ring tightened just slightly.
“Focus, Nick.”
“Always do, Mrs.—”
He stopped himself just for a fraction of a second.
Judy blinked. “Mrs. what?”
Nick smirked again, easy, practiced.
“Wouldn’t want to spoil the surprise.”
Before she could respond, music crackled faintly from an old speaker near the altar. It was slightly distorted, just loud enough to fill the room.
The ceremony was starting.
Nick straightened, smoothing down his tie, posture shifting to something less relaxed. More… present.
Judy took one last breath.
This was just a job.
Just a cover. They could do this.
Nick stepped closer, offering his arm like it was the most natural thing in the world.
For half a second, Judy hesitated.
Then she took it.
And together, they walked toward the altar.
❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀
The music was slightly off-key.
Nick noticed it immediately.
Not enough for anyone else to care—just a fraction too slow, like the old speaker couldn’t quite keep up with the recording. It echoed faintly through the chapel, filling the quiet space between footsteps.
What he however noticed was her footsteps.
Their footsteps.
Judy became acutely aware of everything all at once.
The soft fabric brushing against her legs. It was ZPD-issued, tailored just enough to pass as a wedding dress. It wasn’t ugly. Simple, clean lines, a gentle cream tone that caught the stained-glass light in a way that almost made it look intentional. But it wasn’t *her*. Not something she would’ve chosen.
Nick’s arm beneath her paw was warm. Steady. A little too steady.
Judy risked a glance up at him.
Still smirking and composed.
His tie was still slightly crooked.
She narrowed her eyes. “You didn’t fix it.”
“Adds character,” he murmured back.
“You’re getting married.”
“Allegedly.”
Her grip tightened just slightly on his arm.
Rows of “guests” turned as they passed. Undercover officers scattered strategically through the pews. A wolf couple in the second row, a pair of otters whispering too quietly to be real civilians, one very large rhino who was doing an *excellent* job pretending not to scan the room every three seconds.
Judy exhaled slowly.
They reached the altar ans the priest smiled.
“Welcome,” he said warmly, voice smooth, practiced. “It is a beautiful day for a union.”
Judy mirrored the smile, just enough.
Nick, of course, leaned into it like he’d been waiting his entire life for this exact moment.
“Couldn’t have picked a better one,” he said.
The priest chuckled.
Judy resisted the urge to elbow him again.
“Shall we begin?”
They nodded and just like that, it started.
Judy folded her paws in front of her, posture perfect, eyes forward until she felt it.
Nick’s paw, brushing lightly against hers.
A pause.
Then, intentional this time, they curled around hers.
Judy’s breath hitched.
Not enough for anyone else to notice.
But enough for Nick.
The priest spoke words of union, of devotion, of trust meant to bind two lives into one.
They were meant to feel singular. Meant to linger but they slipped past just as easily as water through open hands.
“…to stand beside one another, in partnership and in faith…”
Partnership.
Her ears flicked slightly at the familiar word.
Nick’s grip tightened—barely there, but grounding.
“Do you,” the priest continued, turning to Judy, “take this man to be your lawfully wedded husband, to stand with him, to trust him, and to face all that comes together?”
Judy swallowed. This was the easy part. She knew what to say, practiced it hundreds of times in the mirror the same morning.
“…I do,” she said.
Her voice came out steadier than she expected.
The priest turned to Nick.
“And do you take this woman to be your lawfully wedded wife—”
Nick didn’t hesitate, “I do.”
It was a bit too quick and too certain.
Judy’s ears twitched again.
The priest smiled gently, folding his hands as he looked between them.
"Then, if you would like to share your vows—"
The words landed heavier than they should have.
Judy felt her stomach drop as the realization caught up to her. Right. The vows. Of course there were vows. They hadn’t prepared for that part because they hadn’t thought they needed to.
For a brief moment, she hesitated. Then she glanced at Nick.
He looked back at her, just as quickly.
Something quiet and unspoken passed between them, an understanding formed in an instant.
We improvise.
Judy drew in a breath, steadying herself as she turned forward again.
'I—" she began, the word catching slightly before she pushed through it. "I promise to stand by you. To trust you. To—"
She faltered, just for a fraction of a second, but when she continued, her voice had softened without her meaning it to.
"—to choose you. Even when it’s difficult."
The words lingered in the air longer than expected.
Nick went still beside her.
Judy blinked, as if only just realizing what she had said, and straightened almost immediately, her tone shifting to something firmer now.
"Because that’s what partners do."
The moment closed in on itself, neat and controlled.
Nick let out a quiet breath.
Then it was his turn.
He tilted his head slightly, his expression slipping back into something easier, something familiar. "Wow," he said lightly, "tough act to follow, Carrots."
A soft ripple of laughter moved through the small gathering.
Judy rolled her eyes, the tension easing just enough.
But when Nick looked back at her, the humor didn’t quite hold.
For a moment, the smirk faded.
"I promise," he began, slower this time, "to keep things interesting."
There it was, the deflection, easy and expected.
Judy almost relaxed.
"—to have your back," he continued, quieter now, steadier. "Even when you don’t think you need it."
Her breath caught, subtle but undeniable.
Nick didn’t look away.
"And…"He paused, just briefly. "To stick around."
The words settled between them, softer than they should have been. Not quite a joke. Not entirely something else, either.
The silence stretched just a second too long.
Then he let it go.
"There," he added, the familiar grin slipping back into place. "Short and sweet."
Judy looked at him for a moment, something unreadable flickering across her expression before she forced it away.
The priest, oblivious to the shift, gestured toward the table beside him. "The rings."
They exchanged them quickly, simple bands nothing ornate or remarkable. The metal was cool against her fur, grounding in a way she hadn’t expected.
"Please, sign here."
The document was placed in front of them.
Judy took the pen first, her grip steady as she signed her name without hesitation.
Nick followed, just as easily.
The ink dried almost instantly.
Done.
The priest’s smile widened, satisfied. "By the power vested in me—"
Judy felt it before anything actually happened.
A shift. Subtle, but unmistakable.
The moment snapping back into place.
The mission. Her focus sharpened.
The priest’s hand moved and slipped into his sleeve, too deliberate, a bit too careful to be innocent.
Judy’s gaze locked onto it, every instinct sharpening at once.
“—I now pronounce you husband and wife–”
“ZPD!” Judy snapped, stepping forward, grip tightening as she reached for her badge under her dress. “You’re under arrest!”
The room exploded into motion.
The priest recoiled, something metallic flashing in his hand—
“NOW!” Judy shouted.
Undercover officers surged forward, dropping their disguises in an instant. The wolf from the second row tackled one accomplice, the rhino blocked the exit with a forceful step.
Nick was already moving.
“Little early for the honeymoon, huh?” he quipped, darting to cut off the priest’s escape.
Judy lunged forward, adrenaline kicking in, every nerve alive—
This.
This was her element.
Her focus sharpened into something bright and unwavering as she moved, precise and fast.
“Don’t move! Stop in the name of the law!” she commanded, voice clear, authoritative.
The priest bolted.
Big mistake.
Judy’s ears flattened as she took off after him, heart pounding. Not from nerves anymore, but from excitement.
“Nick! Left!”
“Already there!”
The chase burst out of the chapel, sunlight blinding for a split second as the doors flew open.
And whatever this had been,
whatever *they* had just done,
was pushed, abruptly, to the background.
❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀
The chase didn’t last long.
The priest made it halfway down the street before running straight into the rhino officer who had positioned himself at the side exit, and the moment he was forced to a halt, the rest of the team closed in with practiced efficiency. There was a brief struggle, more frantic than coordinated, and then the metallic click of cuffs settled everything into place.
Judy slowed to a stop a few steps away, catching her breath as the last of the tension drained from her muscles. The rush was still there, bright and steady under her skin, the familiar satisfaction of a clean arrest settling in.
“Got him,” she said, more to herself than anyone else, but the small smile that followed was unmistakably hers.
The priest, now significantly less composed than he had been at the altar, tried to salvage what dignity he had left. “This is a misunderstanding,” he insisted, though his voice lacked conviction.
“Sure,” Nick replied easily as he stepped up beside Judy, adjusting his sleeves like he hadn’t just been sprinting. “That’s what they all say right after the wedding.”
Judy shot him a look, but it didn’t quite land; the corner of her mouth twitched despite herself.
One of the officers moved in with a small evidence bag, retrieving the item the priest had tried to conceal during the ceremony. Whatever doubt might have lingered disappeared the moment it was examined.
“Matches the reports,” the wolf officer confirmed. “He’s our guy.”
Judy nodded, her posture straightening again as she slipped fully back into her role. “Good. Let’s get him processed before he comes up with a better excuse.”
The priest was led away, still muttering under his breath, though no one paid him much attention anymore. The crowd that had gathered at a cautious distance began to disperse, the brief excitement already fading into the usual rhythm of the city.
Just like that, it was over.
Judy let out a slow breath and turned slightly, her gaze flickering back toward the chapel doors for a moment before she caught herself. The stained glass still reflected faintly in the windows, the distorted music now cut off mid-song.
A strange kind of quiet followed.
Not the tense kind.
Just… an absence.
“Well,” Nick said after a second, rocking back slightly on his feet. “That was fun.”
Judy blinked at him. “Fun?”
“Come on,” he continued, gesturing vaguely back toward the chapel. “Great venue, dramatic reveal, excellent teamwork. Solid day all around.”
“We just got married,” she said flatly.
“Allegedly,” Nick corrected without missing a beat.
Judy stared at him for a moment longer, trying very hard to hold onto her usual composure, and then shook her head with a small, incredulous huff.
“You’re unbelievable.”
“I’ve been told,” he said, entirely unbothered.
There was a pause, not uncomfortable but not entirely neutral either, and for a brief second Judy became aware of the details again—the ring still on her finger, the dress that wasn’t hers, the way Nick was still standing just a little too close.
It was easier to ignore when they were moving.
Now, not so much.
She cleared her throat lightly, stepping back just enough to create a bit of space between them. “We should head back. File the report, hand everything over to Chief Bogo and then this whole thing gets undone.”
Nick’s gaze dropped briefly to her hand before returning to her face, his expression unreadable for a fraction of a second longer than usual.
“Yeah,” he said. “Undone.”
Judy nodded, more firmly this time, as if reinforcing it for both of them. “Exactly.”
A beat passed.
Then Nick’s eyes flicked down again, and this time his grin returned, easy and familiar.
“You might want to keep the ring on a little longer, though.”
Judy frowned slightly. “Why?”
Nick gestured subtly over her shoulder.
Judy turned and immediately spotted the phone pointed in their direction.
And another.
And another.
Someone had definitely been recording.
“Oh no.”
Nick’s grin widened.
“Oh yes.”
Judy closed her eyes for half a second, already feeling the beginnings of a headache forming somewhere behind her ears.
“Please tell me that’s not going to be a problem.”
“Carrots,” Nick said, tone far too amused for the situation, “when has anything involving us ever not been a problem?”
Judy let out a slow breath, then squared her shoulders again, determination slipping back into place like armor.
“Fine,” she said. “We’ll handle it.”
Nick tilted his head slightly. “We?”
She hesitated, just briefly, before answering.
“We.”
Something softened in his expression at that, though it disappeared almost immediately behind his usual smirk.
“Careful,” he said lightly. “You keep saying things like that, people are going to start thinking this marriage is real.”
Judy rolled her eyes and turned toward the precinct.
“Don’t push your luck, Nick.”
He fell into step beside her anyway as she took the ring off.
❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀
By the time they returned to the precinct, the adrenaline had settled into something quieter, more manageable, and the entire operation already felt like it had happened hours ago instead of less than one. The report was straightforward. Clean arrest, confirmed evidence, minimal complications and for a brief, almost suspicious stretch of time, everything moved exactly the way it was supposed to.
No surprises. No complications. No lingering consequences.
Just paperwork.
Judy sat at her desk, pen moving quickly across the page as she finalized the last section of the report, her posture relaxed in a way it hadn’t been earlier. Across from her, Nick leaned back in his chair, balancing a file lazily in one hand while occasionally glancing over at her, more out of habit than necessity.
“You missed a line,” he said after a moment, nodding toward the bottom of her page.
“I did not,” Judy replied without looking up.
“Third paragraph.”
She paused, scanned it, and then sighed quietly. “Okay, I did.”
Nick’s grin was immediate, satisfied in a way that suggested he had been waiting for exactly that outcome.
“Don’t worry,” he added, “I won’t tell anyone. Wouldn’t want to ruin your flawless reputation, Officer Hopps.”
Judy rolled her eyes, but there was no real bite to it. “Your concern is touching.”
“It’s what I’m known for.”
The last of the paperwork was filed not long after, signed off and handed in with little ceremony. No one made a big deal out of it. A few passing comments, a couple of teasing remarks from coworkers who had clearly caught wind of the undercover scenario, but nothing that lingered.
It was just another case.
Just another day.
And just like that, it was over.
Judy stood, stretching slightly as she stepped away from her desk. “I’m going to go change,” she said, gesturing vaguely toward the hallway. “I’ve had enough of this dress for one lifetime.”
Nick glanced up at her, his gaze briefly flickering over the fabric before he nodded. “Can’t blame you. Though I have to say, it’s a good look.”
Judy gave him a look.
“Don’t make it weird.”
“Wouldn’t dream of it.”
She disappeared down the hall before he could add anything else.
❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀
When Judy returned a little while later, she was back in her casual clothes, ears more relaxed, shoulders looser, as if shedding the dress had helped her fully step out of whatever that whole situation had been.
Nick had done the same, though in his own way. Black tie gone, sleeves rolled again, the version of himself that fit more comfortably back in place.
For a moment, neither of them said anything.
Then, almost in unison, Judy reached into her pocket and pulled out the ring. She turned it once between her paws, absently, as if weighing something she couldn’t quite place, before setting it down on the edge of her desk. The movement was casual, deliberate in its simplicity like it didn’t matter.
Nick’s gaze lingered on it for a second longer than necessary.
Then he followed suit, slipping his own ring off with practiced ease and placing it beside hers. The two bands sat there, identical and unremarkable, catching the light without meaning anything at all.
“Guess that’s that,” Judy said, brushing her paws together lightly, the gesture small but final, like she was closing a file and moving on.
“Guess so,” Nick replied. There was no weight behind it.
Just a quiet, mutual understanding that whatever had happened earlier stayed exactly where it belonged. It was part of the job, nothing else.
Judy grabbed her things, slinging her bag over her shoulder as she turned toward the exit. “You coming?”
Nick pushed himself up from his chair without a second thought. “Thought you'd never ask.”
❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀ ❀ ╤╤╤╤ ꕥ ╤╤╤╤ ❀
The city had settled into its usual rhythm by the time they stepped outside.
The air was cooler now, the late afternoon light stretching long shadows across the sidewalks as traffic moved steadily past. It was familiar, grounding in a way the chapel hadn’t been.
They fell into step beside each other easily, their pace matching without needing to think about it.
“Food?” Nick asked after a moment.
Judy didn’t hesitate. “Obviously.”
“Thought so.”
They ended up at a small place not far from the precinct, somewhere they had been enough times that neither of them needed to look at the menu for long. The conversation flowed the way it always did. Light, easy, occasionally teasing, slipping between work and everything else without ever quite settling on one thing.
At one point, Judy laughed—really laughed, head tilting back slightly—and Nick paused just long enough to notice it before continuing like it hadn’t caught him off guard at all.
By the time they stepped back out onto the street, the sky had shifted into soft evening hues, the city lights beginning to flicker on one by one.
Judy adjusted her bag on her shoulder, glancing over at him. “See you tomorrow?”
Nick’s response came without hesitation, like it always did.
“Of course, Carrots.”
She smiled and turned to head off in her direction.
Nick watched her go for a second longer than necessary before turning the other way.