Chapter Text
Judy fidgeted with the pen on her desk, listening to the way its tapping echoed around the otherwise empty cubicle and office.
Working over Christmas wasn't all that different from any other day of the year, but it sure felt like it. Judy might have stopped hyping up the holiday ahead of time back when she was a kit, but now that it was on them the nostalgic pull of gifts and celebration and family time was stronger than she'd expected.
Of course, she'd done some of this to herself, when she'd told Nick to leave early.
Neither of them enjoyed leaving the other to do paperwork alone, but Judy had convinced him this time by pointing out he'd done nearly all the legwork on the drug case to begin with. This was just her doing her fair share.
To make him feel better, she'd charged him with the one family tradition she insisted on keeping, even as an independent adult: figuring out what to do for the night's Christmas dinner. Neither of them had planned anything ahead of time. They'd been busy with the case, for one, and Nick had eventually confessed his family never made a big deal of it, either.
That wasn't going to fly. Dinner had to be special, she told him. Even if it was just the two of them.
So she finished the paperwork, and he figured out their evening. He'd gotten a little smile about it before he left; she suspected he was planning something over-the-top, like pulling on old strings to get them a table at Morgiano's again. He'd already texted her once, asking about 8PM.
Now, hours on, it was a little hard to focus. She still had toxicology test results to forward and arrest records to reference, and the office was so dead and empty she could hear the whine of the fluorescent lights overhead, and the quiet chatter from down the hall in dispatch. There was a decent staff on call; they were just all out keeping eyes and ears on things instead of working at base.
She had made two lines of progress when her phone rumbled across the desk and nearly made her jump out of her fur. It was her parents.
Well, it wasn't like there was anyone else here to disrupt this time of night. She donned her headphones and answered.
"Hi, Judy! Merry Christmas!" Her parents were in the kitchen at home, waving from behind steaming mugs of soup or cocoa or something. She could hear the riotous noise of dozens of rabbits, and could see at least a few of them darting around and laughing at the edges of the frame.
"Hi, mom. Hi, dad." She grinned. "Merry Christmas to you, too."
"Oh, no." Her mother leaned close. "You're still at work at this hour? They didn't give you the day off?"
"I'm just finishing up some paperwork," Judy said. "Almost done."
"Is Nicholas with you, at least?"
"He has an even more important job than saving the world right now." Judy twirled her pen. "I had to teach him why Christmas dinner is important."
Her parents looked crestfallen.
"That poor boy," Bonnie said.
"At least you know what to do if he doesn't get the message," Stu said. "Did you get your tickets, Jude?"
"Last night, yeah. We'll be back this weekend for a couple of days."
"Then we'll feed both of you home cooking until you can't move. We'll have plenty left, even when you get here."
Hopps holidays were multi-day affairs sometimes. It's what came with having a family so large. Not everyone could get home the day of, like Judy, so they stretched them across nights and into weekends. But her parents always made sure to call on Christmas day.
"I wouldn't miss it," Judy said. "We're counting down the days, believe me."
"There are some presents here, for both of you," her father said. "Winter has been wrapping things all afternoon, so expect some weird surprises."
"And stay warm until we see you, okay?" her mother asked. "It's getting chilly here. Pack your sweaters."
"I will. Thanks, mom."
"We love you, sweetheart. See you and Nick soon."
They ended the call.
Now it was really hard to keep her mind on her work. But it would be nice to leave for the holiday and not have to come back to something unfinished. She bent back to it.
"Why are you still here, Hopps?"
It was Fangmire, on his way past for more coffee. He leaned on the cubicle entrance as Judy scribbled through the last of the line.
"I'd ask you the same thing, Captain."
"This is Bogo's year to have the day off," the tiger said. "We trade. What's your excuse? And where's your partner?"
"I'm finishing this so we don't have to do it later." She pointed her pen at the folders. "Nick's out arranging dinner."
"Okay, good. At least you know that's important."
"You've got dinner plans, right?"
"Once overnight rotates in." He nodded and continued on his way. "Seriously, give yourself a break and get out of here."
"Almost done."
Judy considered more coffee herself, but there was only one page left. Better to wrap it up and just get home. Especially if Nick had made reservations somewhere like his messages suggested.
She slapped the binder closed, pushed it into place on the "to file" shelf, and shut down for the night. The lobby was at half light for the evening, and totally deserted. Clawhauser was out for the holiday, a couple days ago now. He'd left his red stocking cap on the counter.
She tapped out an on my way message to Nick and pushed through the revolving door.
It was even chilly downtown. No snow on the ground, but there was a stiff winter breeze up that made Judy grateful for her thermal uniform. She needed to find some ear warmers.
Travel was actually easier than she expected it would be for Christmas night. Everyone must have already been where they were going. The train to Nick's apartment was looking to be on time, and the roads around the downtown station were quiet. There was just one car that Judy could see, pulled off to the side. Its hazards were going.
Judy stopped on her way by. An older capybara was rummaging in her trunk.
"Is everything all right, Ma'am?"
"Oh!" She straightened and blinked at Judy on the sidewalk. She had a balaclava drawn tight against the cold. "Oh, hello officer. Yes, I'm all right. I just got a flat tire."
"Can I help you fix it?" Judy pivoted, before she had time to really think about it. This would get her home later, but Nick would understand. Someone needed her help. "Do you have a spare?"
The lady slumped in relief. "That's so kind of you, Officer..."
"Hopps. Judy Hopps."
"Linda Grisham. I do have a spare." She gestured to the trunk. "But the jack is broken, I think. I've never used this before."
Judy peered at it. The folding jack was a bit rusted over. The threading on the crank looked to have seized.
"I think we've got a few back in the garage at headquarters." Judy pointed back behind them. "I'll got get one. Are you warm enough? Do you want to wait inside?"
"Oh, thank you, no. I'm all right here. I have a casserole to keep an eye on."
A casserole? Judy looked, and almost laughed. It was buckled into the front seat, like a passenger. "Going to Christmas dinner?"
"Yes." The lady smiled. "With my son and daughter-in-law. They live on the south side."
"I'll try not to make you wait too long, then. Be back in just a minute."
"Thank you again, officer!"
She jogged for the lobby. Did they even have tools for a car that small? All of their cruisers here fit rhinos and elephants. She didn't think she could lift one of those big jacks.
"Hopps, I know you love your work-"
Judy held up a paw to cut Fangmire off. He had his coat on, at least. He was headed out, too. "I know, I know. I'm going. There's someone by the train station with a flat. Do we have a jack for a capybara-sized car?"
"Maybe." They started down the hall to the garage together. "I'll help you look."
---
They had one for the mid-scale unmarked cars that was probably bigger than it needed to be, but it would work in a pinch. Fangmire followed Judy out to where the woman was waiting, casting anxious glances through the passenger window where her cargo waited.
Ahead of them, the 8:00 train rang its bell and rolled out of the station. It would be a half-hour until the next one came through. Judy watched it go, and tried to put it out of her mind. She needed to tell Nick she was going to be a bit late.
The capybara had the spare rolled out and ready to go. Fangmire inspected the bolts she'd loosened and nodded to himself.
"Hopps, can you spin that jack open?"
"Yep." It would take a minute, under the weight of the car, but she wasn't going to make Fangmire do all the work. He'd carried the thing out here for her.
Now he set it down near the driver's side tire. "Ready?"
"What?"
He winked and set his massive paws under the front bumper, and hoisted the front half of the car smoothly off the ground.
"Oh, my," Grisham said.
"Fang!"
He wasn't even straining. "What?"
It would make her job easier, at least. It was lucky neither of them had cameras on - but then, he probably wouldn't have done it if they had. She rolled her eyes and got busy spooling the jack open. "They don't like it when we do that," she explained for their companion. "Something about liability and setting a bad example."
"Can't hear you over how much time you're saving there, Hopps."
"Yeah, yeah. Ready." She got the jack lined up and Fangmire lowered the car carefully into place. Grisham helped with corralling the lug nuts, and they got the spare tire switched out.
"I don't know what I would have done without your help, officers," Grisham said, when she was back in the driver's seat.
Judy waved it away. "It's the least we could do. Now you'll be able to get to dinner."
"I'm sure I can't ever repay you."
"It's our job, Ma'am." Fangmire waved a self-deprecating car jack. "Don't worry about it. Just drive safe."
"Of course. Thank you both again, and Merry Christmas."
Fangmire watched the car go. "Now will you go home?"
"Believe me, I'm trying."
"I'll sort this," he said. "When's your next train?"
"8:30."
He winced. "Sorry."
"No, this was important." Judy dug in her belt for her phone. "Nick gets that."
"I'd give you a ride."
"You do have dinner plans, right?" She looked her captain up and down, and the way he grinned. It was true, they didn't have cameras, so she felt safe asking. "Get an invite from Shayler?"
He didn't have to answer - the conspiratorial lash to his tail did that just fine. He saluted with the jack. "Merry Christmas, Hopps. Tell Wilde I said hi."
"You bet."
He had called, she saw as she waited under the heat curtain for the train. And texted. She held her phone to her ear, and fought the sinking feeling in her stomach.
"Hey, you."
"Nick, I'm so sorry." She looked down the tracks, willing the nose light of the next light rail to materialize in the dusk. "There was a woman here who needed help with her tire."
"It's okay, Carrots, it's okay." She could almost see his sympathetic ears. "Are you on your way home?"
"The next train will be here in about ten minutes."
"Okay." A pause. "There's no rush."
"I saw your messages."
"Well, I finally got through to the desk at Morgiano's, and they're booked into next week, so that wasn't going to happen anyway."
She knew it. "Oh."
"It's a shame. If Stephane had been working tonight we probably could have booted someone."
"That's mean."
"You deserve nice things," he said.
Judy felt her ears warm up in the chill. "So now what? Do you want me to bring something back with me? I think the grab-and-go is still open, but I know that's not the same."
"No, you come here and then we'll think something up," he said. His voice was light, and she had to assume it was forced. "I have a couple ideas."
"Okay. I'm sorry, sweetheart."
"I love you."
And it sat in her mind the whole trip home, while the businesses and condos slid by far too slowly out the windows of the train.
She knew Nick didn't blame her. He never could. And he'd said it himself - it had been moot, when it came down to it. But Judy felt like the chance to make this special they way it had been every year before was slipping out of their paws, one coincidence and missed call at a time. She would eat peanut butter sandwiches with Nick, and love every moment of it. But she wanted to make this special for him, to give him something he'd never had.
The cold pulled at her, as she hustled between his stop and the lobby of his apartment building. Tundratown would be getting a thoroughly white Christmas, with that cold front sitting over the hills to the north. Even Rainforest was feeling it, sending a thick fog over the biome lines. Maybe it would be a good night to bundle up for a quiet walk somewhere.
She took the stairs to his floor two at a time, and took a moment at his door to steel herself to keep the disappointment from being too obvious. She would tell him, and he would understand, but she didn't want it to color their evening.
She opened the door-
And stood slack-jawed as the wave of delicious sensation washed over her. She smelled garlic on the warm air, and rosemary, and fresh sourdough, like she was back at home and her mother was baking for the holiday.
Nick popped his head out from the kitchen nook, grinning from ear to ear.
"There you are."
"Nick! What-"
He caught up her paws and pulled her in so the door latched behind her. He was wearing a canvas apron she'd never seen before, that nearly matched the creamy fur at his throat. His scent mixed with the tang of garlic as she returned his hug.
"Nick, did you cook? I thought you were trying to get a reservation!"
He didn't set her down, but held his paws under her legs so she could sit back and look at him properly.
"Cook is generous," he said. "But I can follow directions to assemble food all right." They went into the kitchen.
Nick had made creamy potato soup, with spices and the last of the season's carrots from their own garden. It bubbled in a pot on his stove. He'd chopped celery into it, too, and there was a loaf of bread still steaming on the counter.
It was too much. Judy didn't know if it was the stress coming off, or the deliciously pungent garlic, or what, but her vision was blurring.
"Nick, this is incredible."
"I had to buy the celery at the store, and I ran out of milk about halfway through, so it's going to be a little thin." But Nick was proud, the way he watched her take it in. "It's a good thing you had to stay late, actually. I had to soak the potatoes for longer than the recipe said."
"How long?" She asked, and squirmed around in his arms. "How long have you been planning this? You had to have started before we even knew about today."
"Last night, I think."
"So the reservation was a ruse to start with."
"Guilty."
No wonder he'd agreed to leave her to work. It was probably the only reason he would. He set her down and Judy dragged her little stool over to stand up by the stove with the wooden spoon he'd stirred the pot with.
Oh, it was delicious. Creamy and sharp with garlic and full of hearty vegetables. There was even cheese, to sprinkle on top so it would melt.
She tipped back, against Nick's chest where he'd come up behind her. His paws circled around her waist.
"I know this is really important to you," he murmured, and nosed at her ears. "You've been talking for a week about how your family's always done things. I figured since we can't get back until this weekend, we'd better make sure we do something special for the night ourselves."
Words weren't really enough to articulate how much Judy agreed with him, how much she owed him for his thoughtfulness, how much she loved him for the things he did to make her happy.
The notion of gifts hadn't come up between them, even if that tradition was as old as the holiday. They hadn't gone out of their way to wrap things up for each other.
But then you couldn't wrap something like this. It was something to be enjoyed and shared and remembered.
"Are you hungry?" Nick asked.
And she turned in his arms, with the long wooden spoon still in her paw, and hugged him close to pour at least some of that happiness out for him, the best way she knew how.
"I meant for soup," he said, when she let him breathe.
Fox. "I love you, so much more than I can say."
"The kitchen is boring. Let's eat on the couch. I have the big mugs."
In a big fluffy blanket, watching the city go to sleep around them. It was perfect, she thought as she held him close again before he could reach for the dishes. She could repay him in kind when they had finished their meal - and they wouldn't even have to move.