Work Text:
jasmines.
Judy is being wooed. Well, she thinks she is, anyway. That’s what she assumes this entire endeavor seems to be about. That’s what flowers are about, right? You get them and it means…something. It means someone cares, someone wants to tell you something, someone—
She swallows, looking down at the stark whiteness of the jasmine on her desk.
Someone loves you.
Francine trumpets softly. “Now that’s romantic.”
“I…is it?”
“Sure is.” She sighs, leaning forward on her desk. “Jasmine’s are all about love, you know. That’s what they mean.”
Judy nods. Her mother knows a lot about flower symbolism, nice things like that. Every year on her birthday, her father picks the primroses out in the garden, and they last longer in a jar than any other flower. Judy lifts the delicate thing in her paw and smiles.
“Smells nice, too,” Francine says wistfully. Judy nods and goes into the staff lounge, shuffling around until she finds a clear plastic cup and fills it with water, nestling the bloom justso and perching it on the corner of her desk. Nick files in a little after lunch, glancing at her desk and raising a brow.
“When you said you wanted a desk pet, Carrots, I thought you meant like a goldfish.”
“It’s not a desk pet,” she says. “Someone gave this to me.”
His ear twitches. “Who?”
“No idea,” she says. “But it’s nice, isn’t it?”
“Smells,” he says, and sneezes, probably for effect.
“It’s staying here.”
Nick puts his paws in the air. “Fine. I’ll just suffer in silence.”
“You are not allergic.”
“Only to that sappy smile on your face,” he teases. “You wanna know who gave it to you.”
Judy stiffens. “I’d prefer to find out naturally, slick.”
He shrugs. “It’s your imaginary romance,” he says, and starts filling out his paperwork.
carnations.
Someone has replaced the plastic cup on her desk with a little mason jar.
Someone has also clipped a red carnation and slid it carefully into the water.
Her mother’s texts tells her that red carnations mean passion, and Judy goes as red under her fur as the flower on her desk.
mom: is someone giving you flowers judy who, who is giving you flowers
judy: no one it’s nothing don’t worry about it
She settles into her chair and reaches out and brushes her fingers over the petals. They’re…beautiful, she thinks. Delicate and ruffled at the end. Someone was very careful with it. Someone wanted it to be perfect when she found it. Someone sneezes behind her.
“Stop it,” she says, and Nick gags.
“I can’t help it. I’m allergic, I’ve told you fifteen times.”
Judy huffs. “Did you see who did this?”
“Ugh, no, Carrots. I would have stopped them if I had. Sitting next to you is like that fourth grade trip to the botanical garden.” Nick blows his nose. “I’m gonna pester McHorn to let me do door-to-doors on that Ratsowski case.”
“That case is open and shut.”
“Says you and your weird, frilly flower.” He elbows her gently and heads off to pester the rhino.
Del Gato comes over and leans against her desk. “That’s like the reddest flower I’ve ever seen. I didn’t know they made flowers that red.”
Francine trumpets. “You don’t make flowers, you grow flowers.”
“Whatever. Someone’s super into you though, Hopps. A flower every day?”
Judy shrugs. “Flowers can be about friendship. Maybe someone just wants to be my friend.”
“Aw.” Del Gato ruffles the fur between her ears. “You’re adorable, rabbit.”
“So fresh,” Francine agrees. “So naïve.”
Judy huffs. “Don’t you two have work to do?”
They do, but they pester her until everyone hears Bogo coming up the stairs, and then scatter.
azaleas.
Have moved desks. Tell your new boyfriend to start leaving food instead. –N
Judy sighs, knows full well Nick has not moved desks but is stuck in an interrogation room all morning. She scrawls back: when you find out who my new boyfriend is, ask them yourself. –j.
The azaleas are beautiful, though.
Judy lifts the little jar and inhales. It’s a pleasant scent, and it reminds her a little of home. No one she usually sits near is around this morning, so she makes a cup of tea in peace and gets a few day’s worth of paperwork done before a familiar voice pulls her out of her trance.
“Judy. It is totally true, I can’t handle it.” Clawhauser pulls up a chair and takes a big whiff of the flower. “Ugh, that smells amazing.”
“Doesn’t it?” She set it to the side so he can put a plate in front of her.
“Chocolate glaze. Saved it for you.”
“You’re sweet, Ben.” Judy breaks off a piece and leans back in her chair. “Have you seen anyone bringing flowers into the building?”
“Nuh-uh. And even if I had, I wouldn’t tell. You’re an officer, Judy. Get in there! Find suspects! Figure out who’s doing the thing!”
Judy laughs. “Yeah, that’s true. I could just start turning this precinct inside out…”
Clawhauser leans on his paws. “But.” She shrugs. “Aw, you like the secret flowers.”
“They’re nice,” she insists. “I almost don’t want to know.”
The cheetah frowns. “Is it Wilde?”
“Nah, he’s allergic. Like, it’s real and everything, he’s not faking.”
“Huh.”
“And besides—”
“Uh, besides nothing, Hopps. Don’t count him out just yet. Could be Fangmire, he thinks you’re alright.”
“Could be anyone,” Judy says, and lifts the flower to her nose again. “But…for now. I like the mystery.”
“Won’t stay that way for long,” Clawhauser sing-songs, and eats the rest of Judy’s donut.
hyacinth.
“Okay.” Fangmire leans forward. “What’s that?”
Judy frowns. “It’s…a hyacinth.”
“What’s it mean?”
“Huh?” Judy looks up, brain a little foggy. She’s…processing.
“All the flowers you get mean something, right?” He ticks them off. “The jasmines and carnations were about love and passion. The azaleas are about first love.” He shrugs. “This one means something, too, right?”
Judy nods. “Uh, yeah. Hyacinths are about…the past.” She touches one of the flowers. “Leaving the past behind you, and moving forward.”
Fangmire snorts and goes back to his desk. “That’s weird.”
“Yeah,” Judy says, looking across the room and finding him. Finding him standing by the water cooler, showing Grizzoli something on his phone. “Super weird,” she murmurs.
location: otterton’s floral shop
“Judy! Judy, honey, it’s so good to see you.”
Judy smiles, letting the little door to the shop swing shut behind her. “Hi, Mrs. Otterton. Is your husband around?”
“He is, he’s in the back. You go on, he’ll be glad to see you.”
Judy nods and heads through the shop. The little greenhouse is warm, sunlight spilling through the glass roof. Judy’s only been here once, just a few weeks after the nighthowler incident had been resolved, to check on the family. Mr. Otterton is hovering over a rose bush, making notes and selecting a few new blooms. “Mr. Otterton?”
He starts and turns. “Judy! Gracious, you scared me.”
“Sorry,” she says, and accepts his hug. “How are you?”
“Oh, fine, fine. Sending roses to the Bigs. Fru-Fru had her newest little one.”
“That’s wonderful.”
He sighs, gesturing for her to sit at a table with him as he clips off the thorns. “What’s on your mind, Judy?”
“I…had a question.” Otterton stops, not looking at her, but acknowledging her all the same. “So…you know.”
“It’s not my place to say, Judy.”
“I have to have some answers.”
Otterton looks up. “Have you tried asking?”
“I’m asking right now.”
He shakes his head. “No, I mean asking him.”
“He wouldn’t say. He’s been lying about it for days now.”
“Classic aversion tactics.”
Judy sighs. “What does this…mean?”
The otter laughs. “You’re asking me to explain love to you? Come on, Judy.”
“But Nick doesn’t—” She stops, every moment since they started working together rolling through her head in fast forward, the flowers sticking out in her brain, the aversion and the brushing it off, the ear twitches and that time, just a few months ago, when that hare had been all over her, and his paw had come to rest on her back and –
“Oh.”
Otterton smiles. “There it is.”
at the precinct, where nothing weird is happening at all.
She corners him, and she’s never seen him shrink like this before.
“Are you even allergic to flowers?”
“Extremely,” he deadpans. “What’s the matter with you?”
“Why are you leaving flowers on my desk instead of just telling me that you love me?”
To his credit, his expression doesn’t change, but his body language says it all. Ears tucked back, tail down, shoulders drooping. He shrugs. “It seemed like a good idea at the time.” He looks at her. “You love flowers.”
Judy starts. “I…well. Yes. I do.”
“You love flowers, and I love you. It seemed like a good way to tell you how I feel.”
She feels her expression soften before reaching out to cup his jaw. “Nick.”
“You don’t have to tell me you feel the same way. I know you might not. I only—” He makes a little noise against her mouth as Judy tugs him down by his collar and kisses him, quick.
“Stupid fox,” she mutters.
“I only pretend to be so clever,” he confesses, right before he sneezes. “Ugh did you go to Otterton’s shop?”
“I did.”
“You’re covered in it, I can’t handle it.”
“We’ll get you some Benadryl,” she mutters, and pulls him down again.
roses.
It’s her birthday, and her desk is covered in a dozen different kinds of roses.
“Okay,” Nick says. “Only one of these is mine.”
And from behind the stacks of bouquets, her coworkers pop out, shouting, “Surprise!”
“Oh my god I’m going to die,” Nick mutters, and runs to his desk to find his allergy medicine.
Judy laughs. “You guys!”
“Nick said he was getting you roses! And it’s your first birthday with us,” Francine says.
“It’s…actually my second.”
“That’s what I said,” Bogo mutters, coming out of his office. “Happy Birthday, Hopps.”
“Thank you, sir.”
“The orange ones are from me,” he adds, and turns his back.
Judy sighs, glancing at everyone and smiling. “Thanks you guys, seriously.”
“These are mine,” Nick points out. “They’re the best.”
“They are very beautiful,” Judy murmurs, and lets him lift her onto her desk so she can kiss him properly. “And I love you very much.”
“Told you guys I’d win,” he says over her shoulder, and gets a faceful of roses. “Dying. Literally dying,” he shouts, and pushes them back
Judy laughs. “You did win,” she says, kissing him again. “You always win with me.”