The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 101

Disclaimer: Zootopia stories, characters, settings, and properties belong to the Walt Disney Co. This story is written under Fair Use Copyright laws.

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The Fire Triangle—A Zootopia Fanfiction

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Part One:

Fuel

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Chapter 12 –The Best Laid Plans

(Continued...Pt. 2)

This chapter is dedicated to the Zoomers and K-Pops fans of 6/20/20.  On that day, they fought the system...and they won.

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If it hadn't been for the springhare, Nick and Judy might never have caught the live performance...or come within an ace of getting caught themselves.

It happened on a Saturday, the final day before they were supposed to get a (badly needed) break. They'd been on patrol up in Acorn Heights when a call of suspicious activity had come in. A rabbit had been seen, repeatedly leaping up and peering over the top of a wall surrounding a Zootopia Parks and Rec. storage yard.

The suspect's species had been a surprise to Judy; his activity, not so much. Zootopia's Parks and Recreations facilities were subject to nearly constant pilferage in the summertime, the hottest items being weed-whackers. Thieves would steal them, convert them into outboard motors and sell them for 100 smackers. On any summer weekend, you could see these bootleg boat- motors, running all over the Canal and the Waterfront districts.

When Nick and Judy caught up with the suspect, he was lounging against a wall, munching on a granola bar. That was when doe-bunny saw, (much to her relief,) that he wasn't really a member of her species after all; he was a springhare, a mammal from Afurica that closely resembles a rabbit, but is in fact a member of the rodent family.

Her relief was destined to be short lived, because the instant Nick pulled up to the curb, their suspect threw down his snack and took off. It was a foolish move on the face of it, but it just might have worked. The springhare had a decent lead on the fox and bunny-cop, and was one of the few animal species that could outleap a rabbit. Judy, however, had a pair of aces up her sleeve, a partner that knew the streets of Zootopia like the back of his paw, and a tactic the two of them had honed to perfection. While she gave chase, Nick would perform an end run, get in front of the suspect, and run out the clothesline—in this case appearing from behind a fence just as the springhare turned to look back as his pursuer. It was an almost pitch- perfect collar and under normal circumstances, the fox would have thrown her a high five and been insufferably buoyant for the next two hours.

Not today; when Nick had read the springhare his rights, he'd sounded about as enthusiastic as an overworked waitress, rattling off the daily specials for an uninterested customer.

He had been like this ever since a certain hyrax had, (oh, so gleefully) broadcast a certain deep-fake video on his cable program.

The following afternoon, ZPD Cybercrimes had finally gathered the evidence to prove that the footage of Nick and Judy 'behaving badly' was bogus. Too late; the damage was done. Just as the red fox had predicted, Hardesty's retraction had been delivered as a throwaway comment near the end of his radio show. And judging by all the continued ostracism he and Judy were getting, most of the other cops in Precinct-1 either hadn't heard it, or simply didn't care.

Or...maybe they simply didn't believe it; for the last few days, a pair of very ugly rumors had been making the rounds. According to the first one, the video was genuine, and it was the evidence to the contrary that was the fabrication. Allegedly the whitewash had been done at Chief Bogo's behest, a 'necessary evil' to 'preserve the reputation of the ZPD.' The second rumor was even more bizarre, more or less the same as the first one, except now the order had come from City Hall. "Those wimpy politicians don't want anything to get in the way of that stupid Mammal Inclusion Initiative of theirs." the rumor supposedly said. (The truth of the matter was that the MII program had been in limbo ever since Leodore Lionheart's arrest.) Whatever the case, Hardesty's retraction made barely a dent in the wall of derision Nick and Judy were facing.

That was how HE saw it, anyway...while she remained confident that given time, things would return to normal. It had lately become a bone of contention between the fox and bunny-cop; they'd had several arguments on the subject, including one that had left them not speaking to each other for the rest of the day.

After his arrest, the springhare had given them no further trouble. When Judy patted him down and found nothing but a wallet and an apartment key, his decision to make a run for it became all the more puzzling.

But after they ran his ID, everything fell into place. He turned out to have not one but two outstanding warrants; one for petty theft and another, much more serious, for felonious assault. (He had attempted to settle an argument with a deer mouse by stepping on him.)

Having finished booking their suspect, Nick and Judy were headed back to their cruiser, when Benjamin Clawhauser hailed them from the reception desk.

"Hey you two, don't leave yet. I just got word from Chief Bogo; he wants every available officer covering Savanna Central Park; it's almost time..."

Judy's ears stood up and her nose began to twitch. "Time...time for wha...? Ohhh, riiiight."

She nearly face-pawlmed herself but instead looked at her watch; 11:45, fifteen minutes to go before the Big Rave.

"What does he need all the extra officers for?" It was Claire Swinton, who had just arrived on the scene.

By way of response Clawhauser swept a paw in the direction of the precinct's front entrance. Judy looked and even through the narrow panes of glass it was obvious that a fairly substantial crowd was gathered in the park outside.

"We don't think there'll be any trouble," the plus-size cheetah stressed, "But Chief Bogo doesn't want to take any chances; the last time we had that many mammals out there, it nearly turned into a riot."

At this, Judy could only nod solemnly...and try her darndest to banish the lump rising into her throat. Benjamin was referring to the peace rally Gazelle had organized in the wake of the bunny-cop's now-infamous presser performance. It was an event that had indeed nearly descended into chaos...and she should know; she'd been there. Bogo was absolutely right to call in reinforcements, just in case.

Exiting the precinct, she and Nick found Savanna Central Park a-swarm with young mammals of practically every species, from tiny rodents, to hulking hippos and elephants. The kids were dressed in a virtual kaleidoscope of styles, but with one thing in common; just about all of them were wearing the V-For-Vendetta fox-face somewhere on their furson; on t-shirts, on vests, on ball-caps and bandannas; some of the guys going bare-chested had it stenciled on their back and chest-fur. Quite a number of kids were hoisting picket-signs bearing the design, and at least two V-Fox banners could be seen, fluttering in the breeze. The accompanying text varied from shirt to shirt and animal to animal but all of it carried the same basic message.

Fight The System—And Win

Bring Down The System

Beat The System

The System Won't Break Me

A few of the captions were written in language graphic enough to make Judy Hopps blush...or that is to say, they would have when she'd first arrived in Zootopia. (She had toughened up considerably since then.)

Another thing the doe-bunny noticed was that she and Nick were far from the only cops present here today; blue uniforms were visible all over the place...but no body armor. Wisely, or so Judy thought, Bogo had declined to send his officers out in riot gear. (Knowing him, he'd probably deemed it an unnecessary provocation.) At the same time, however, he was determined to maintain a substantial police presence at the Big Rave. There had to be at least a few kids here who'd shown up spoiling for a fight, (weren't there always?) And a few miscreants could be all that was needed to turn a protest into a full scale riot. Under the right circumstances, even a single troublemaker would be sufficient.

That was yet another lesson from Gazelle's abortive peace rally; for a while at least, things had seemed to be going reasonably well—until an angry pig had shouted at a leopardess, "Go back to the forest, predator!" What happened next had been the closest thing to a riot Judy had experienced since joining the ZPD, scuffling and shoving matches, preds and prey species screaming into one another's faces, picket signs snatched away and broken over knees; to this day she could hardly believe the ZPD had been able to keep a lid on it. The incident had left her badly shaken and now she wondered if Nick had been similarly affected.

But then she remembered; Gazelle's peace-rally had taken place after the red-fox bailed on her—but before they'd reconciled. He might not even be aware of what had happened here those three long years ago.

Judy turned...and saw that his nose was canted upward, sniffing and testing the air, while he searched for a particular scent.

"What is it, Nick?" she asked him.

He took a short breath before answering her, "They're here, Carrots."

She felt her ears rise up again. "Who's here, Nick?"

He sniffed the air a third time. "That sand-cat kid, the one whose guitar Conor got back for him...and that hyena kid who helped him," another sniff, "and that coyote girl who shilled for him." He lowered his muzzle and turned to her, "I think that rat kid's here too; the one who did a ski-jump down the front of Finnick's van."

"Really; where?" Judy asked, looking around the park for second and deploying her own antennae. It was no use; in this hubbub, it was impossible to pick out an individual voice, even for a bunny.

Nick pointed in a familiar direction, towards Council Rock, the big, sandstone platform where Gazelle had spoken during her peace rally. (There was something sadly ironic about that fact.)

Little of anything was visible over the heads of the crowd, but for just hint of a second, Judy thought she saw the face of a hyena.

She patted Nick's elbow, "C'mon, let's go check it out." If the fox was right, (and he probably was,) she had pretty good idea as to why those particular kids were here right now.

Her intuition did not fail her. When she and the fox made their way to the front, they found the sand cat up on Council Rock with a guitar draped around his neck and a mike stand set up in front of him. Arrayed behind him was a short stack of amplifiers. Hmmm, what was his name again? Saad...something. Beside him was the coyote girl...Dana Al...Al... Dangit, Judy couldn't quite remember the whole of her last name either, but much to the doe-bunny's surprise, she was holding an electric fiddle tucked under her arm. Peering closer, Judy saw that it was painted jet black, with a pair of zig-zag lightning slashes on either side of the strings; hanging from the headstock was a single, striped feather. Even more curious was 'yote-girl's mode of dress, leggings, moccasins, and a billowy shirt. She had her forehead wrapped in a red bandana and her face painted black to match her instrument, with a stylized rain-cloud chalked beneath each eye. Seated next to her was Conor's friend, the Asian black rat, Mike Daehan. (HIS name she remembered.) He was set up behind what looked like some kind of electric piano; (hard to tell, since it was rodent sized.)

Behind and above these three was the hyena with his Deejay table. Next door, on a drum-kit, was an Afurican wild dog. Curious that Nick hadn't smelled him—especially since his was another name Judy was able to recall, M'beke...Jason M'Beke. He was stripped to the waist with a rolled bandanna encircling his forehead and big, wide, canine grin on his face. Beside him were two other members of his species, each with an Afurican native drum.

"Hmmm, no bass player," Nick noted musingly, "They could probably use your sister's help right now."

"Probably," Judy answered, pretending to sound indifferent. The truth of the matter was...fat chance, fox! Mom would have Erin pulling weeds from now until Christmas if she caught the younger bunny playing here today.

Mom...

Prudently, Judy had waited until the ZPD had proof that the Deep Fake video was phony before attempting to contact her mother again. While Bonnie had accepted the explanation without question, there'd been a stiffness about her that lingered long after the phone call was over.

"Judy...Nick? What are you doing here?"

The voice from behind them was both wholly surprised...and instantly recognizable.

"Don't look at us Doc," Nick answered, raising his paws defensively as the two of them turned around, "it was the Chief's idea." Judy almost said something as well, but then she saw that Dr. Hind's ears flicking back and forth; for some reason, he was in a disconcerted state.

And now they were standing straight out to the side, a sign of even greater distress.

"Bogo...told you to come here?" the black-tailed deer-buck queried haltingly.

"Not directly, he passed it on through Clawhauser." Nick answered, regarding the psychologist with a curiously tilted head.

"Why, is there a problem?" Judy asked, feeling her nose beginning to twitch. Something was sure as heck not right here.

"Well, I..." Dr. Hind started to say, and then abruptly cut himself off. "Hold on, incoming text."

He pulled out his cell and began to thumb the keyboard...and Judy felt her ears go up again. What, now...? She hadn't heard any sound coming from his phone; did he have it on vibrate?

Then she did hear something, the fanfare of a horn...coming from HER phone; now she had an incoming text.

She pulled out the cell and clicked on the message.

And felt an icicle drop into the pit of her stomach.

The text read.

U and Nick BUSTED Conor Lewis

If THESE kids figure out who U-R...

There was more, but Judy didn't bother with it. Doctor Hind was right; dumb bunny, she had led herself and Nick straight into the heart of a hornet's nest.

The deer-buck, meanwhile, was dialing again.

"Chief Bogo? This is Dr. Robert Hind. Yes, have you got a moment? I need to send you a text." He stopped for a second, glancing sideways at Nick and Judy while drumming the fingers of his free hoof against his thigh. "Uh, noooo...it really needs to be sent by text...all right, just a second." He turned the cell phone sideways in his hoof, worked his thumbs again for a moment, and then placed it against his cheek once more. "Did you get that Chief? Yes, that's what I thought," He angled his eyes at the fox and bunny-cop, "Yes, yes...they're right here. Yes, I'll tell them. No problem, Chief. Bye-bye."

He disconnected and put the phone away, looking directly at Nick and Judy

"Bogo says he never gave any such order; he wants you two to head on back..."

"Hey look, it's them."

Judy felt her teeth come gnashing together. It was the sand cat with the guitar—and he was pointing directly at her and Nick. She reached for her radio with a sinking feeling; even with all the other cops here there wouldn't be nearly enough time for backup to arrive before...

"Huh? Who you talking about, Saad?" It was the coyote-girl, shading her eye with a paw and scanning the crowd.

"The renard and lapine-cops who help Conor get back my guitar," he said, pointing again.

Judy's paw moved away from the radio holster and she felt her fingers trying to cross. Had she and Nick somehow managed to dodge THAT bullet? Maybe so, but it wouldn't last for long; sweet cheez n' crackers, they should have been made the instant they'd shown their faces.

"Yeah, that's us," Nick's answer was as bright as a newly minted penny....and it wasn't an act, Judy realized. He hadn't seen the deer-buck's text; he had no idea that the two of them were teetering on a tight-rope. All it would take was one slip of that foxy tongue of his, and...

And he was already offering the sand cat his paw. "Nice running into you again. In case you don't remember, it's...."

"...really great to see you," Judy interjected, quickly before the fox could finish giving away their identities. Getting hurriedly in front of him, she pretended to pull thoughtfully at her chin. "Um , Saad...Saad ...dangit, I'm so terrible at last names."

Before the sand cat could respond, Nick stepped out from behind her.

"Seriously, Carrots? I always thought you were..."

"Oh yes, I'm really bad at last names, fox," she said, turning and smiling through gritted teeth.

"Okay, If you say so," he shrugged, looking slightly puzzled.

"I do," Judy all but hissed. Ohhhh, of all the times for him to finally snap out of his funk! He was going to get the both of them shaved, tarred, and feathered, if he didn't shut up. She glanced sideways at Dr. Hind, screaming a silent message, "Dangit Doc, send him that text!"

Meanwhile, the sand cat was talking again.

"It's Zaqir, Saad al-Zaqir. Salaam again to you," He bowed slightly and then gestured in turn at the coyote-girl, the rat, the three wild dogs, and the hyena. "And these are Dana Alchesay, Mike Daehan, Jason M'beke, wiz his two cousins, and Treo is up there on his Deejay table."

Judy looked to her left and saw that Dr. Hind was thumbing out another text. She could only hope it was addressed to the fox standing next to her.

"Great to see you guys again, too." Nick's voice was full of hearty bonhomie. It would have been enough to make Judy retch, if bunnies were capable of such a thing. "Shut UP fox, don't say anything more." O-M goodness, how the heck had these kids not figured out already that she and Nick were the officers who'd brought their hero into custody? The Zootopia Police Department had how many other foxes and/or bunnies on the payroll? Well, never mind, if the crowd WERE to turn on them it would only be a curtain-raiser. Kiss or no kiss, videos or no videos, the ZPD was not just going to stand by and let two of their own suffer at the paws of an angry mob. In that case, Bogo would call out the riot squad; no more nice cops. From here on out, it would be tac-gear, pepper spray, and rubber bullets...maybe even a police tank and water-cannon if things really got nasty. What was that she'd said to herself a moment ago...something about a hornets' nest? Close, but no kewpie doll, bunny-girl. This place was a powder-keg—and she and Nick were the sparks.

And now the fox was speaking again. Judy could hear the chime of his cell-phone but apparently he couldn't.

"Anyway, I'm..."

"Oh come on, I sure they remember us." she chided, letting out another silent scream. "Dangit fox, will you PLEASE pay attention to your stupid cell-phone?"

"Well it can't hurt to be courteous, Ju...just a second, hold on."

At last Nick pulled his cell-phone from its holster. When he looked at the screen, his expression remained unchanged...but there was no mistaking the bobbing in his throat and the frizzing of his tail-fur.

Thank God.

"Ahhh, I can never figure out Chief Bogo." He said, lowering the phone and offering a tiny nod...a cue the doe-bunny took immediately.

"What is it; does he want us back...?"

Before she could finish, someone else interrupted; it was Dana, speaking to the rest of the band, "Come on guys, it's almost time," she said, and then nodded briefly at Nick and Judy, "Can you hang for just a minute?" she asked, and then mounted the stage without waiting for a reply.

That should have been the fox and bunny-cop's cue to depart, but Judy suddenly found herself rooted in place. She had no idea why, but knew it was pointless to resist. So instead she cupped a paw to her muzzle and was about to wish Dana 'break a leg', when she felt a nudge in her shoulder. "Whoa, look at that, Carrots."

Judy looked...and saw that all around the park perimeter, cars were cranking down their windows. For a moment, she couldn't understand why, but then remembered. Conor's friends weren't the only kids planning to pump up the volume right now

She looked at her watch again; 11:57, three minutes to go.

And then the silvery shriek of a feedback filled the air, causing her and Nick both to clasp painfully at their ears.

"Eh, 'scusez moi," Saad al-Zaqir mewled, pulling back his guitar from the mike with an uncomfortable expression on his face. At once Dana took over as master of ceremonies, shooting the sand cat a jaundiced look as she took his place at the microphone.

"Hello everyone," she said and was rewarded with a smattering of applause. She let it subside and continued. "We all know why we're here today, because of Conor Lewis." Another ovation interrupted her, louder this time. When she spoke again, she her voice was noticeably amplified. "And before we start, I want to tell you something; we—I mean all of us up on stage here—we know Conor fursonally; he's a friend of ours, a good friend. We used to jam together before his arrest."

That was good for Dana's first genuinely enthusiastic response from the crowd, claps, whoops, howls, and roars; even an elephant's trumpet or two.

Judy held her breath and swallowed. Would the girl coyote's next words be, "And there's the cops who busted him!"

Nope; instead she waved her bow at an empty mike stand, set up between her and Saad.

"That's where Conor would be standing if he were here with us today," she said—and it was good for the loudest reaction so far. Dana waited for the noise to die down again, and then raised her paw for complete silence. "And if he was here, I know what he'd be saying right now, the same thing he said during his webcast. No more drive-by graffiti, no property damage; don't give The System what it wants. Instead stand up and make your voices heard." Around the park, the opening drumbeat of Twisted Hamster's one and only hit could faintly be heard, echoing from different vehicles; some of the kids were either jumping the gun or had their watches set too fast.

Dana, however, refused to let them spoil the moment. "Are you ready to make your voices heard?" she cried, raising her arms in a V, fiddle in one paw and bow in the other. She was answered with a raucous, affirmative roar.

She said it again, louder.

"Are you ready to make your voices heard?"

Another cacophonous display followed...and now Dana lifted her voice almost to a howl.

"ARE YOU READY TO MAKE YOUR VOICES HEARD?"

The response this time was so loud it drowned out the music coming from the car windows. The coyote girl's reaction was to raise her fiddle and bow again, and let go a blood-curdling war whoop.

And that was Jason's cue. He clicked his sticks together four times and launched headlong into the opening beat.

On the third riff, the Afurican Wild Dog raised his muzzle and began to sing.

"We not gonna take it

No, we not gonna take it..."

His voice was a dark baritone, rich and melodious, but not quite jagged enough for headbanger metal. It hardly mattered though, because nearly every kid in the park immediately joined in with him.

"We're not gonna take it...any morrrrre."

And now the rest of the band got into the act, with Treo's turntables serving as the substitute for a bass guitar.

"We've got the right to choose it...."

All around Nick and Judy, young mammals were bouncing on their heels and throwing fists in the air. Some were making devil's horns with their fingers while others were swinging their heads in a circle.

Although the fox and bunny-cop had no way of knowing, what was happening in Savanna Central Park wasn't staying in Savanna Central Park; up in Old Growth City, not one, but THREE separate block parties were going on, one of which had been organized by the young deer-buck that had championed Conor's jailbreak. Next door, in Tundratown, a throng of young mammals was marching past the Fish Market to the beat of We're Not Gonna Take It—led by the young lynx and Dall sheep Conor had met while making his supply run.

"Oh you're so condescending

Your gall is never-ending..."

Even Zootopia's normally sad-sack borough of Happytown was jumping...much to the annoyance of an older vixen...who kept shouting out her window, "Turn that DOWN!" only to have the music cranked up louder than ever each time she did. Truth be told the only district that was relatively quiet right then was Sahara Square—and only because...well, what else would you expect in a desert enclave, in the midst of the noonday heat?

And in faraway Bunnyburrow, a young, white-furred rabbit was offering a hurried explanation through the door of her hutch. "It's the back-up song for my academy audition, mom."

"Oh all right Erin, but not so loud," Bonnie Hopps said, and then went away, giving Erin just enough time to get in the refrain for her buds that were listening in on Skippe.

"We're right

We're free

We'll fight

You'll seeeeeee, whoah-hohhh, yeah yeah

We're not gonna take it..."

What wasn't happening in any of those places was mayhem. No street signs had been pulled down, no benches torn up, no cars overturned, no store windows broken; no spray-cans were in evidence anywhere. While a few of the cops in Savana Central Park and elsewhere were getting taunting looks from the kids, none were being feted with open hostility.

The worst thing Nick and Judy saw was a pair of young bighorn sheep, who crashed their head together and flashed the 'Loser' sign at the fox and bunny-cop before moving on.

That was when she realized, Conor had done it; he had somehow managed to channel the other kids' energy into something that, if it wasn't exactly productive...

These thoughts skidded to an abrupt halt as her eye caught sight of Dr. Hind again—standing with a hoof laid along of his face and tapping his cheek with a thoughtful finger. He wasn't so certain of Conor's success, apparently. No, that wasn't quite right; he also knew the young silver-fox had pulled it off...but he was further aware that this was only the first round. For now, the kids were keeping it relatively peaceful, but what about next time?

It might have interested Judy to know that Conor's thoughts at that moment were much closer to Dr. Hind's than hers...albeit a lot more cynical.

Yes, he understood that he'd won the battle but not the war—but no; he wasn't going to pack up and leave on a guilt trip if things went south from here. Conor Lewis might have a serious problem with other kids getting in trouble because of him—but his definition of the term 'because of me' was lot narrower than either the deer-psychologist or Judy might have suspected. No one knew better than this young fox that some kids were going to go their own way no matter what you told them.

And in that instance, 'their way' was going to be their problem. As Conor saw it, he'd said his piece and if another kid ignored him and got busted, they owned it as far as he was concerned; tough luck babe, you got yourself into this.

He must have told himself that a hundred times already

At the moment, he was standing in front of the loft's big-screen, watching the performance in Savana Central on ZNN. He had his Strat and a mike set up and was playing and singing along with his former crew; a promise is a promise, after all.

It wasn't easy; his voice kept trying to crack. Dangit, why had they gone and set up that empty mike for him? For the first time since his arrest, the fugitive young silver-fox was beginning to understand the price he'd paid for starting that money-lending thing. Those kids up on Council Rock were his friends, they were HIS band...and now he was never going to jam with them again, not for real.

When he thought about it, he almost wanted to cry—almost; Conor Lewis hadn't shed a tear since long before his arrival in Zootopia, and he wasn't about to backslide now.

All right, no tears maybe; but he still had regrets, deep, infinite regrets. He should have walked away from lending out that money when he'd had the chance; dumb, Dumb, DUMB fox!

It was a thought that, even a week ago, he would have shaken off like a layer of dust.

When the final refrain came up, he gave it everything he had.

"We're not gonna take it...

No, we ain't gonna take it."

In another part of town, Jason M'beke was doing the same.

"We not gonna take it any morrrrre."

The song ended on a crashing guitar solo...and Judy had to admit, Conor Lewis had nothing—or at least very little—on the sand cat playing in his stead. Saad al-Zaqir owned some mean guitar skillZ.

When the echoes of the last note faded, nothing happened for several seconds; the park seemed to be holding its collective break. And then all at once everything erupted into a frenzied cacophony. A thousand different young animals venting their feelings; roars, chitters, barks and whoops, canine howls, feline screams and rodent squeaks. None of them seemed to know exactly what they were cheering for.

None of them seemed to care.

Someone tugged on Judy's shoulder; it was Nick.

"Ohhh kay Ju...um, Carrots, show's over. We need to get on back to the precinct."

Actually, it wasn't quite over; instead of putting their instruments away, the band was tuning up for another number.

She felt the tug again, harder...and this time it pulled her back down to earth again. What the heck had she been thinking? Yes, they needed to go...and right now.

But the morning wasn't quite ready to let them off the hook just yet; Judy found that out when Nick was about to open the precinct door for her. Without warning, he stopped, sniffed, and turned around.

Once again Dr. Hind was behind them, and now he performed a quick look-around, as if to make sure there was no one else within earshot.

No one was and so he dropped to one knee, the better to make eye contact with the fox and bunny-cop. At the same time, he lowered his voice.

"I didn't want bring this up with a crowd all around us," he said, looking from Nick to Judy and then back again, "But I know about Rock Hardesty and that fake buzztube video...and I also know what's been going on in there ever since." By way of explanation, he cocked his head so that an antler was pointing through the precinct entrance. "So before I go, I just wanted to ask, are you two okay?"

"We're...handling it, Doc" Nick answered with a noncommittal shrug...and with a frizzing tail and spiking neck fur that Judy could see but the deer-psychologist couldn't.

"We're all right, but thanks for asking," she said. (She would see Dr. Hind about this privately, later on.)

"All right then," the deer-buck said, standing up again. "But listen to me; if either of you start to feel overwhelmed by any of this; if you just want to talk, please...call me. Leave a voice mail if I'm not available, and I'll get back to you ASAP."

"Thanks but we're good," Nick told him...with a confidence he obviously didn't feel.

"Okay, but if that changes, you know my number," Dr. Hind told him. Judy had the distinct impression that Nick's masquerade hadn't taken him in for a second. She was not about to say so however, not in front of the deer-psychologist.

"We will; see you later Doc." Nick said. Dr. Hind nodded and turned to walk away.

Judy raised a paw to wave good-bye, but then stopped as her ears snapped upright

Behind them, in the park, Conor's former bandmates were cranking it up again.

She felt her nose twitching and her right foot trying to thump. "Isn't this where we came in?"

The tune they were playing was, "I Fought The Law."