The Fire Triangle, A Zootopia Fanfiction -- Part One: Fuel - 30

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 3 - Day of Carrots and Blueberries

(Continued...Pt. 22)

"What do you mean I can't go on?" Erin Hopps stared wide-eyed at the animal on the other side of the table, thumping her foot to no avail.

She was waiting at the talent show check-in station, a tented booth set just to the right of the amphitheater entrance; here was where you came to pick-up your access-pass for the backstage gate...except it looked like she wasn't getting through the gate tonight. Gah, after all she'd gone through to obtain a second chance, to be turned away now; so close and yet so far.

The worst part, from Erin's point of view, was that she was dealing with a member of her own species, a plump, matronly bunny on the wrong side of middle-age that looked just like everyone's least favorite grade school teacher.

Acted like her, too.

"Young lady, the rules are very specific." The older bunny picked up a sheet of paper and adjusted her half-moon glasses, "Three: 'No one participating in the Carrot Days Talent Show may sign up to perform more than once.'"

"But I never got to perform," Erin tried to protest, (Dangit, this Stonewall Jackrabbit would have to recognize her from yesterday!)

As if that would make a difference to this rabbit; she refused to budge

"Sorry, but rules are rules," she said, and then peered over the rim of her spectacles, "Frankly my dear, I don't understand how it was that you were permitted to sign up again in the first place."

"Wait a minute, she didn't sign up, I did." Conor Lewis tried to intervene, speaking up from behind her. Aggggh, grrrr, he could have kicked himself all the way back to Zootopia. Why hadn't he just kept it as his slot until they got onstage? It wouldn't have made any real difference, and they'd already have their passes.

Ms. Stonewall gave him the same look she'd given Erin.

"You can't just give away your slot to whomever you want, young fox; that's also not allowed, therefore, I'm afraid I must inform you..."

"Wait hold it, Conor didn't give her his slot!" A new voice interrupted, and then he and Erin turned to see Nick Wilde standing there.

"It's still his performance, he just invited Erin to join him on a duet," the red fox continued hastily, and then gave Conor a sideways glance. "Didn't you kid?"

"Uh yeah," the younger fox answered snatching up the lifetime, "I wasn't sure if she was going to be available, so I signed up to perform solo. That way I'd still have my spot in case she couldn't make it. I only gave her top billing coz she's on lead vocals."

"Yes, that's right." Erin jumped in quickly, pointing to her guitar case "My bass quit on me and I wasn't sure if I could get it fixed again in time." (That was good for an admiring glance from both foxes. Way to hustle, rabbit.)

Stonewall Bunny folded her arms in her lap, looking from one young mammal to the other and then back again, her nose twitching in a fast, staccato rhythm.

"Well you might have said so in the first place." She told them tartly, and then scribbled hastily on a pair of lime-green cards. "Here are your stage passes; now move along, there are other mammals waiting in line."

As they walked away from the sign-up table, Erin Hopps looked like she wanted to strangle a certain plump rabbit with her own ears...and Conor looked like he would have happily disposed of the remains by having them for a snack.

"Easy kids," the red fox told them, "You got your slot, that's what counts."

It was Conor who cooled down first, regarding the ground for second and then rubbing his nose with a finger.

"Yeah, right. Thanks Nick."

"Yeah, thanks." Erin added, a little more contrite for having been less prompt.

When they arrived at the stage entrance, the young bunny's family and most of her friends were there, waiting for her, (except for the ones delegated to go save the seats.) Erin was breathless with excitement but coping. Conor Lewis by contrast looked charged up but relaxed. No surprise there, Judy thought; he didn't have nearly as much riding on this gig as her sister.

Once again there was an exchange of hugs and good wishes, (although this time brother Timmy wisely kept his thoughts to himself.)

Finally Conor said, "C'mon Erin, it's time." And the two of them hefted their gear and headed over to the gate. Watching them pass through, Judy felt a small pang of conscience. Her family had been all over Erin with words of support and encouragement; same as above from her sister's girlfriends.

But nobody had said a thing to Conor, (including Judy herself, guilty as charged,) and that wasn't right; Erin wouldn't even be here if it hadn't been for him.

Well, there wasn't anything she could do about it right now; the two of them were already on the other side of the gate and out of reach.

And it was time for everyone else to take their seats.

Anyone not knowing that Judy Hopps had completed in the Rabbithon today would have been surprised to see her now. Normally, she moved with the confident stride of someone who knows exactly where she's going; now she walked with the halting, pendulum steps of a rabbit on chemotherapy. Her joints were aching with every little move she made and her legs felt as if they'd been encased in a pair of concrete hip-boots. Her paw was starting to hurt again, too.

She accepted it all without complaint; if this was the price she had to pay for having done well in the race, then so be it.

This time, the Hopps family and the Erin posse were all sitting together, front row seats, and enough for everybody. Settling heavily into her chair, just left of center stage, Judy raised her arms and stretched, lifting them high over her head. Almost immediately, she heard Nick Wilde's voice from beside her.

"Don't even think about putting your arm around me, Carrots" he told her primly, "I'm not that kind of a fox."

Judy rolled her eyes and elbowed him in the ribs. Oh happy day, he was in another one of those moods again.

Three chairs down, Stu Junior stood up with his paws on his hips. "Okay, I'm gonna mosey on over the concession stand. Anybody else want anything?"

He should have known better, the effect was like pulling the keystone out of a dam; at once the burly bunny was deluged by a torrent of requests. Junior finally sorted it out after a minute or two, deputizing some of the younger family members to come and help him. (Judy asked for a soda-she'd need to take another Zebuprofen in few minutes; Nick opted for the same and also a bag of blueberry kettle-corn.)

No sooner had Junior departed than a small, diminutive figure came trundling in their direction. At once, Nick Wilde's ears went nearly vertical.

"Finnick, what are you doing here?"

"What you THINK I'm doing, Nick?" the desert fox rumbled in that grumpy manner of his, "Conor's my partner; I wouldn't miss him tonight."

"No, you wouldn't want to miss, him." The red fox rejoined sourly, remembering the fennec's promise to even the score with Conor for that cell-phone hustle. "Got your rotten tomatoes ready, little toot-toot?"

"Har-har!" The fennec-fox sniffed derisively, and then turned and called in that booming voice of his. "Hey, is there a Cara Combs around here anywhere?"

"I'm Cara." A young sheep leaned forward out of her chair. "Are you Finnick?"

"Yeah, that's me."

"We got your seat saved right here/" she said, patting the one beside her

"Great thanks," he told her, and then turned to Nick and Judy. "Conor asked 'em to save me a spot," he said and then continued on his way.

Judy Hopps barely noticed; what she wanted to know was, what the HECK was Nick so irked at him for, all of a sudden?

Meanwhile backstage, Erin Hopps was talking to the pig behind the audio control console.

"So remember, don't start the music until after you hear Conor start in on his guitar."

"Right, right....I got it." The pig answered, more bored than annoyed. He had obviously seen his share of anxious performers today. (Fortunately he HADN'T seen what had happened with her the previous evening; a different animal had been on duty then.)

The opening intro had been Conor's idea and Erin had latched onto it almost at once; it would catch the audience straight out of left field. Of course her girlfriends knew the plan, but she had sworn them to secrecy and knew that none of them, not even Lisa Chatterton would ever tell; Lisa might have been a Douglas squirrel but she was first and foremost always a loyal friend.

With the instructions given, there was nothing to do but wait her...hold that thought, wait their turn; that and pace around backstage...and wonder how the heck that frinkety-blank silver fox could stay so dang-all calm at a time like this.

It would have reassured Erin to know that Conor Lewis wasn't the walking cucumber he appeared to be; (or maybe it wouldn't have.)

Judy had been wrong in her supposition that he didn't have a scorpion in this fight. He did; he wanted Erin to succeed tonight every bit as such as she did herself. And as someone much wiser than he had once said, "Every performance is important...even the ones where the audience is throwing garbage."

No, the truth of the matter was that Conor was feeling plenty antsy himself right now; the difference was that he was better at handling it than Erin. He understood too that it was good to be just a little bit wired before you took the stage.

And there were two other things he understood. One...no, it wasn't good to follow a killer act onstage but two... no, there wasn't anything either he or Erin could do about it. Whoever went on ahead of them, would be going on ahead of them; que sera, whatever.

The five bunnies coming off stage right now were a group that he and Erin were lucky hadn't gone on right ahead of them; they had just turned in a smoking rendition of Steve Ermine's Copperhead Road. As they passed by Erin, one of them nodded politely to her, while two of the others stared at Conor's guitar as if it had just crawled out from under a rock.

The animals out there right now were four of the Burrow's older inhabitants, three rabbits and a weasel, performing barbershop quartet version of the old Rolling Stoats tune, "You Can't Always Get What You Want." They were good, really good, and the song converted nicely to the new format. Erin seemed to know it too; she was wringing her paws like a penitent seeking absolution, (which in a very real sense she was.)

Conor badly to go over and reassure her, but knew that it would be an exercise in futility. His best course of action-the only course really-would be to just stand back and give her some space.

That...and hurry up and wait.

Meanwhile out on the lawn, Nick Wilde was slurping his soda and scarfing his popcorn, more to occupy his mind than his mouth. Whatever emotions he'd been feeling after Judy had crossed the finish line had long since ebbed....and that joke about her stretching her arms as an excuse to put one around him had NOT been because that was what he had wanted to do...certainly not!

The real problem was the fennec fox, seated about twelve chairs away. Swami Finnick had seen all, he knew all...but would he TELL all? While the little guy would never intentionally blow the whistle on what he'd seen at the Rabbithon, Nick Wilde was all too aware that his former partner was anything but the soul of discretion. (That was why back in the day, he had always insisted Finnick keep that pacifier in his mouth even after they had sold all the pawpsicles.)

He looked at his watch for the twentieth time

Waiting in the wings, Erin Hopps' pacing had subsided to mere fidgeting, and not all of it had to so with her upcoming performance, (although that was certainly the wellspring of her anxiety.)

No, at least a little bit of it had to do with the young fox, sitting three feet away from her, performing a final inspection of his guitar.

While Erin was certainly grateful to him for pre-empting Amanda Sylvester's coup, there was something about the way he'd done it that had left her a little bit shaken.

It wasn't the ease with which Conor had carried out the hack, it the cavalier, almost high-pawed ruthlessness he'd shown to his victim; when he'd broken into Amanda's computer and corrupted those files, he had acted with no more afterthought than Erin would have wasted on a flea.

It made the young bunny wonder just what else Conor Lewis was capable of-and she wasn't sure that she wanted to know

For tonight's performance the young fox had donned another apple-cap, this one with a checkerboard pattern of differing colors, and also a wine-colored, faux-silk vest and a matching Moroccan scarf, plus a green and white rugby shirt, decorated with a Welsh Dragon. The only item remaining from their first encounter was the parachute pants-and those had shifted from beige to black. She had to admit he looked sharp...sharp and slightly sinister. (Well he was a silver-fox after all.)

For her part Erin was wearing a pair of 'strategically torn' jeans in midnight blue, a denim jacket with the sleeves removed, a dark blue bandanna tied around her neck and her favorite Rickenbarker Bass 'Bring the Thunder' T-shirt, the one in bubblegum pink, (just to let everyone know that girls rock too.)

Someone tapped her on the arm, she almost jumped.

It was Conor.

"Don't do that, fox!" she snapped, batting his paw away.

"Sorry," he told her unapologetically, "But they're coming offstage, we need to get ready."

By 'they' he meant the troupe of young bunnies who made up the last act before theirs. What had they done again, some kind of acrobatic thing, was that it? Erin was surprised that she didn't know. In fact, right now she could remember any of animals that had gone on ahead of them.

Well it didn't matter at this point; she moved aside to let the other rabbits to pass and took a deep breath.

"But I know where I'm not goin'," She sang to herself, "I will not be broken." (Don't fail me now, Bunny Raitt!)

"Okay kids, you're up." A familiar voice said. It was the raccoon from the night before. Luckily he seemed not to recognize Erin; (that or he was just pretending.)

"Right," she said, and led the way out onto the stage without looking back. (She knew without checking that Conor would there.)

Then the announcer spoke.

"All right everyone, please welcome to the stage, Ms. Erin Hopps and Mr. Conor Lewis."

The cheers and applause that greeted the announcement were of a decidedly mixed bag, enthusiastic in the case of Erin's friends and family, but mostly polite everywhere else. And at least a few audience members were looking warily at one another. These were the animals that must have seen her lose it the night before. "Easy girl, you expected this," the young bunny reminded herself.

She could feel her knees quivering as she stepped up to the microphone-while Conor took his place at the mike to the right and just behind her. Out in the audience she saw Judy pointing towards the young fox with a horrified look on her face. What the heck...? Oh right, that guitar of his. Erin would have smiled if she hadn't felt so nervous. Dangit, she hadn't been this panicky yesterday...but then yesterday she hadn't been coming off a crash and burn. Dangit!

What the young bunny couldn't know was that this was actually a good thing; uneasy as she was there was no chance of her ending up 'bedeviled by the details' as had happened so many times before when she'd come to play.

She held up for a second, looking out over the audience; it was bigger than the crowd last night; much bigger. Ohhhh-kay...

Someone tapped her on the arm again, the raccoon this time. For a second she thought he was going to tell her to get a move on, but instead he slipped a note into her paw.

When she opened it Erin recognized at once her father's writing.

It's better to burn out than to fade away.

Dad

Erin closed her eyes for a second, sucking air between her teeth and clutching the note to her chest like a talisman.

"Thank you, Daddy."

And then she put it away and took the mike.

"Hi everyone, I'm Erin Hopps...yes, the same Erin Hopps from last night." This show of bravado got was it deserved; a ripple of laughter and a sprinkle of applause.

She nodded in acknowledgement and then began to play, a simple up and down progression of notes; she could almost have been practicing scales.

And then she began to sing.

"But ma-maaa...I feel so low.

Ma-maaa...where do I go?"

Out beyond the stage, her sister Judy's nose was twitching in confusion. What the heck was going on here? Erin was singing well enough, but there was no back-up music; it was just her and her bass guitar. And Conor...why was he just standing there, when did he come in? And what was he supposed to do if he did? Judy knew this song and it had practically no guitar in it.

And why had her sister gone directly to the refrain instead of starting from the beginning?

"They always said that you knew best..."

Had she bothered to glance to the right just then, Judy would have caught the crafty, knowing looks of the faces of all her sister's girlfriends; they knew what was coming.

"...little bird's fallin' out of that nest..."

Five seats over Bonnie Hopps turned to her husband.

"Well this is a pleasant surprise." She said, wondering why Stu looked almost disappointed. (She wouldn't have if she'd seen his note to Erin)

Up on the stage, the young bunny was singing.

"...so I've just got to put these wings to tessssst."

On the final word, Conor let loose on his guitar, a blazing riff that tore through the moment like a chainsaw in a flower-garden.

He slammed out a power-chord...and another and another.

And then he launched into a raucous rolling, rollicking melody that brought half the kids in the audience out of their chairs. Ohhhh yeah, they knew THIS tune.

At that instant, the background music cut in, and Erin hammered out a pair of thunderclap licks on her bass.

And tilting her face to the microphone, she gave it everything she had.

"Oh, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeeea-ea-eah! Come on!

"Got my party gown!

Got my ears let down!

Got my heart beatin' bay-bayyyy!"

All around Judy, bunnies were bolting from their chairs as if the seats morphed into catapults, bouncing on their feet and clapping with their paws held high.

When the refrain came up, Conor joined in with Erin on the vocals.

"Tie your mother down!

Tie your mother down!

(Get your daddy out the door, I don't need him nosin' around!)

On the last line, Erin's posse and whole bunch of other kids joined in.

Give me all! Your! Love! To-niiiiiight!"

Front row center, Lisa Chatterton was perched on Cara Combs' shoulder singing along with the others, but she was sniffling and her eyes felt wet too. She had known Erin Hopps longer than any of the other girls, and her friend had never sounded this good before-never; her voice was soaring like a falcon given its freedom.

"But you know, I don't give a light

I'm gonna make out alright..."

Conor saw it first; kids rushing from their seats towards the front of the stage. For a second or two, he wondered if a mosh was about to get going, but instead they began to dance. Okay, fine...he was down with that.

Oops, here came the refrain; time to join the chorus again.

"Tie your mother down!

Tie your mother down!

Or you ain't! No! Friend! Of! Miiiiiiiine!"

Down below in the audience, Judy Hopps could barely see the stage, even by standing on her chair. The space between her and Erin was wall-to-wall dancers. What made it doubly frustrating was that her little sister was singing her heart out. Judy had always known Erin had a great voice but DAY-ang, she had never her sing like this before. Wow!

Well, she decided, surveying the sea of dancing kids in front of her, there was only one thing left to do.

"If you can't beat 'em, join 'em," She told herself, and then hopped down off her seat and grabbed Nick Wilde by the wrist.

"Come on fox, let's dance."

Nick's head reeled back and his tail stiffened.

"Wha...Dance? Carrots, are you serious? You just ran the Rabbithon a few...!"

But she was already hauling him into the crowd.

Ten yards away and five feet above them, Erin Hopps was watching as Conor ripped into the first guitar solo, noticing for the first time that he used a hybrid picking technique; he used mostly his thumb-claw, with assistance from the rest of his fingers. He was absolutely killing it on the solo, working the strings at a breakneck pace, twisting, bending and stretching the notes like strands of salt-water taffy. She responded with her best machine-gun riff, a bass-guitar blitz that brought a resounding cheer from the audience.

Conor answered with a few fast licks of his own-but only a few; this was Erin's gig not his, and so he kept it short and sweet, returning quickly to his mike when he was done.

Taking the cue, Erin came back strong on vocals.

"Oh, your Mommy and your Daddy

Gonna plague me till I hurl..."

Midway through the crowd, Judy suddenly could see her sister again; the animals in front of her were no longer bigger than she.

"I'm such a peace lovin' girl."

In any case, she couldn't hold it back any longer; she began bouncing from foot to root, pumping he arms in time to the music. In the rush of excitement her fatigue had simply vanished, and aching joints, what aching joints? Not THIS bunny, bub.

But then she happened to glance over at Nick Wilde. The fox was bouncing lightly on the balls of his feet and rolling his paws in the air, smiling pleasantly; ohhhh, it was the Gazelle concert all over again.

"Oh no, you don't Slick, not THIS time!" she told her partner silently.

She whipped around and grabbed his paw, trying to get him to dance with her.

He did, but his movements were jerky, almost robotic; he was like a marionette being handled a by a novice puppeteer.

And he had his face turned away from her, looking towards the stage, almost as if she wasn't even there. If it had been anybody but her sister playing onstage, Judy would have turned on her heel and stalked off in huff.

"What the heck is WRONG with you, fox?"

What was wrong was something she could never have imagined-and something Nick Wilde could never have anticipated.

Separately-by themselves-neither Erin, nor Conor could have triggered it, but put the two of them together, couple the sight of him with the sound of her...and suddenly this wasn't the Carrot Days talent show any more; it was another stage, another place, another time, many years ago.

And that wasn't a bunny and a silver fox he was looking at, it was a cross-fox vixen, and she wasn't playing bass or lead guitar, she was playing keyboards.

And the song wasn't 'Tie Your Mother Down by Quoll, it was 'And We Danced' by the Hoofers. It shouldn't have happened, not with so many differences...but it had, Nick was back there in The Thaw as helpless as a moth circling a candle-flame.

And then the vixen turned to look at him.

"You didn't need to lie to me, Nick!"

"Nick? NICK!"

All at once he was back in the present, with Judy staring up at him.

"What the heck is your problem tonight?" she demanded, thumping her foot.

Nick knew what he should do; he should take her aside after the show and tell her everything, about Wild Times, about Robyn, about all of it. He should come clean with Judy Hopps...the way he should have done the first time, before it was too late.

He told her, "I-I'm sorry Carrots, I guess I'm just never been one for dancing."

Even to him, it sounded lame, but before Judy could react, Erin and Conor hit the refrain at full throttle.

"Tie your mother down

Tie your mother down

Give me All! Your! Love! Toniiiiight!

All your love, tonight!"

On the final solo Conor unleashed his secret weapon, a technique he'd learned from watching another one of his guitar heroes, the late Michael Hedgehog. Loosening up his fingers, he snapped them against the strings, cracking them like a whip and bending the strings with his other paw just as the note struck, and at the same time punching the tremolo pedal.

The effect was mind-blowing; the licks seemed to ricochet through the air, like a golf ball hit full swing in a tiled bathroom. It earned the young silver fox a roaring ovation, and that was what told him it was time to back off and let Erin take the helm again. He finished up the solo with a quick wave and nod.

When he looked her way again, he saw Erin beckoning him to join her at the center-stage mike...and then the two of them were there, riffing off each other while their voices joined together on final reprise

"All your love, tonight!

All your love, tonight!

All your love, tonight!

Oh, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah...!

All your love, tonight!

All your love, tonight!"

The last line belong to Erin and Erin alone.

"Give me all...your...love... toooooooo..."

She paused for three seconds and then,

"...NIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIGHT!"

Erin slapped on her bass, releasing a torrent of riffs: Conor immediately picked up where she left off using the whip-finger technique again, but this time at a near blinding speed. He held the last note in a long bend.

And then he and Erin jumped up in the air and came down together on a final, slashing power chord.

As the old saw goes, the crowd went wild; frantic applause, frenzied cheering and so many bunny-feet thumping, it sounded like an avalanche. At the front of the melee, Erin's girlfriends had begun to chant, "Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN!"

It spread quickly through the ranks of the other kids.

"Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN!"

Erin sniffled and looked away for a second.

"Dangit, I am NOT going to cry again!" she swore to herself.

She swallowed hard and grabbed her mike.

"Thank, you, thank you so much," she said. It wasn't much but it was the best she could manage without her voice cracking up on her. She swallowed again and waved with her paw, indicating the young silver fox on her right.

"On guitar and backing vocals, Conor Lewis."

The ovation swelled as the young fox took a short bow and raised his guitar in acknowledgement.

"Thanks again," Erin said. It felt completely inadequate, but it was all she could think of right now.

Someone tapped her on the elbow, Conor again. When she looked, she saw him nodding over a shoulder, towards the right-side wing, where the raccoon who'd assisted them earlier was beckoning with a paw. Nice job kids, but it's time to make room for someone else.

Erin nodded back and reached to unplug her bass, while Conor did the same with his guitar. And then the two of them helped the stagehand disconnect their pedalboards and, with a final wave to the audience, they headed back into the wings once more.

It was like a journey into a dream. Half the animals they encountered applauded as they approached, and from way everyone moved aside to let them by, they might almost have been passing royalty.

When they came out through the gate, Erin's family and here girlfriends were there and greeted her with a whoop and a thunderous ovation.

"Woo-hoo, Erin!"

"You rock, sis!"

"Kick tail, bunny!"

"You GO, girl!"

"Next stop, ZAPA!"

It was all very nice, Erin thought, but where ....? Wait, there he was.

She let her gear fall to the grass and went rushing to embrace him.

"Daddy!"

She had not forgotten his note.

Stu swept her up in his arms and held her tight, rocking her back and forth.

"Oh Erin." He sniffed, fighting back the tears, "I am SO proud of you."

Erin went to hug her mother next, and then of course it was Judy's turn. But when she got to the girls in her posse the white furred bunny found herself swiftly being hoisted off her feet.

"Hey guys, come ON!"

It was no use; she was already up on their shoulders and they were bouncing her up and down while chanting that meme again.

"Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN! Eh-RIN!"

Judy flicked a finger at the corner of her eye. It was good to see her sister so happy after the debacle of the night before.

The night...before? Hold on a second...

She looked towards the gate and saw Conor Lewis all by himself, hefting his gear and preparing to move on; even Finnick seemed not to have noticed him.

That wasn't right...and she wasn't going to let it happen a second time.

But before Judy could take even a single step, she heard Erin's voice from behind her.

"Guys, guys...put me down. Come on I mean it, lemme down."

And then the younger bunny was pushing past her.

"Sorry, sis...Conor? Conor, wait up!"

The young fox stopped and set his gear down.

"Conor," Erin told him gesturing towards the stage with a sweeping paw, "Conor, you're the one who made this happen. You stopped me from destroying my bass, you got it fixed, and then you gave me your talent show slot."

She took him by the paws and then her voice softened to almost a whisper and began to crack. "Thank you...thank you for everything."

Judy raised her paws and began to clap. Almost immediately another bunny joined her, and another; and then Nick joined in, and then Erin's girlfriends...and then everyone was clapping and all of the bunnies were thumping their feet.

Conor nodded deferentially, but he never looked away; that was the one thing Judy would always remember about this moment; there was no false modesty in this kid.

When the ovation began to die down, Erin looked down at her paws and her eyes went wide as if to say 'What am I doing?"

She hurriedly pulled away, perhaps a bit too hurriedly because that was when the young fox finally spoke up.

"You don't need to thank me Erin, believe me it was worth it. And I'd be honored to share another gig with you, anytime you want."

Erin just smiled, and then she said. "Listen, we always have a big family dinner and a bonfire on the second night of Carrot Days. Would you like to come and join us? I'm sure it'd be no trouble.

Actually, she wasn't sure, but a quick glance in her parents' direction assured the young bunny that she'd made the right call; both of them were nodding enthusiastically.

"Oh yeah, I'd love..." the young fox started to say, but then checked himself, seeming to remember something. "Uhm, is it okay if Finnick comes too?" He asked.

This time, Erin looked at her parents before saying anything, but once again they were nodding.

Off to the side, Nick Wilde couldn't help but feel a little humbled. Even after the way Finnick had snubbed him, Conor still refused to abandon his partner. (The little desert fox seemed to have realized it as well, Nick could see him looking at the ground, shamefaced.) It harkened back to something a swift fox of both their acquaintance had told him many years ago, "Us foxes gotta stick up for each other Nicky, no matter what ...coz we're the only species we got, you follow what I'm bringing out?"

Stu Hopps meanwhile, had his thumbs hooked his thumbs in the straps of his overalls, "Listen, how about you boys staying over with us in the warren tonight? We've got plenty of room, and I'm sure it beats sleeping out in that van of yours."

Conor accepted that offer with NO hesitation.

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Note:

I must have considered a hundred different songs for Erin and Conor to perform before I settled on Tie Your Mother Down. These included 'When the Levee Breaks' by Led Zep, 'Heroes,' by David Bowie, and "We're Not Gonna Take it" by Twisted Sister. plus all of the tunes they tried out during the barn rehearsal. Hopefully, this one was a good choice.

And here it is.