>>Anonymous asked: "And he has to be able to find Judy in a group of all her similarly aged sisters."

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"Hmm..."

Nick regarded each of the half-dozen bunnies in front of him. They all looked like Judy. She'd even gotten them fake police uniforms! Nick could spot the details that differed each one from the real getup his dumb bunny wore on patrol... not that it helped, when every single one was fake. And they all stood remarkably still as he looked at them.

Well, except for the one on the end, staring fearfully at his muzzle. Doubtless picturing the fangs kept carefully hidden by his controlled speech. Even without those big ears of theirs, Nick could just about hear her little heart hammering a million miles an hour.

He sighed. "Second from left is terrified. She can leave. Fluff, I don't wanna cause any heart attacks just by meeting the family."

Judy's father's voice cut over the sound of the identified bunny's sigh and rapid getaway, saying "well, Mr. Wilde, I'm sure it'd help to point Judy out quick, then. 'sides, they all agreed to it."

At this, the remaining bunnies nodded. Nick resumed his pensive look. He wondered if they dyed their fur, or if they all naturally had Judy's pattern. And surrounded by all this bunny, Judy's scent was washed away completely in a sea of fluff.

A sea of cu- of *adorable* fluff, Nick mentally corrected himself. Was that word off-limits, too? He'd have to ask his partner-in-not-so-crime later. Wow, bunnies look really soft when they're not trying to run from or out-snark him.

"Are you sure I can't have them all? I mean, if *one* Judy is good, then-" he cut himself off - in part for comedic timing, and in part because, if her dad glared daggers at him any harder, he might actually end up getting stabbed.

But mostly because one pair of ears twitched just the way he liked it.

With his signature confident, smug smirk, Nick ambled up to the middle bunny, who met his gaze even as she had to look more and more up at him.

"I've made my choice," he announced. In the corner of his eye, several sets of bunnies exchanged gambled cash and carrots.

"Well-" Mr. Hopps started, an honestly insulting lack of disappointment in his voice.

Before he could say any more, Nick cut him off, sweeping his arm up to, without looking, point at a nearby balcony. "There's the dumb bunny who shanghaid me into taking down Bellweather. C'mon down, Judy."

He turned and peered up to face Judy, whose jaw hung open. Nonetheless, she made a quick recovery and an even quicker descent, hopping off of some carrot-filled storage boxes. Nick didn't take his eyes off of her, though some of his smug melted into affection by the time she reached him. Maybe 10%. He had a lot of smug; it's a fox thing.

"How'd you know?" she asked him, "Dad usually only does that to the boyfriends he... needs more convincing on."

"You thought I'd fall for the old cup game trick? Carrots, I'm hurt; that sort of scam was my bread and butter 'til I was old enough to get a vending license."

Judy lightly punched him, then pantomimed writing him a ticket; a gentle scratch between her ears got her to stop and lean into him. It was a familiar, and very welcome, warmth and pressure.

Which made it the perfect time for a joke. "So, Carrots," he began, and immediately felt her tense in anticipation, "what do you think of my 'six Judys' idea?"

"We'll have to leave them at the Burrow, but sure, I'll invite them into our bed while we're here. Vera's a gymnast, so that should be fun."

Nick's brain immediately short-circuited. He was only vaguely aware that Judy had pulled away from his side to saunter off into the crowd of bunnies.

With a quick look back, Judy called to him, "it's called a hustle, sweetheart!"