The terrified fox was thrown onto the floor by the surprisingly strong bunny in a police uniform.  He struggled, but with strength far beyond what her minute size suggested she pinned him and began to bind his wrists and ankles.

	“Well,” the bunny said, “looks like we’ve caught ourselves a no good, sneaky thieving fox here.”  She clamped the cuffs shut and slowly reached behind her for the last piece, a muzzle perfectly fitted for the fox’s narrow snout.  “You preds should all be locked up in cages, but I suppose this will have to do.”

	The fox looked at the leather straps and wire cage with fear, memories of a similar muzzle forced upon his face by a gang of other, younger prey in uniforms flashing before his eyes.  He struggled against his bindings, trying to worm his way free but failing.  Among the horrible flashbacks he could barely remember what had happened to get him in this position.  As the muzzle slipped on and the bunny started to secure the straps something, some vague memory, lingered at the back of his mind.

---

5 hours earlier,

“Guess that’s the end of our shift.”  Officer Judy Hopps stated, glancing at the clock on the dashboard.  “Officially done being cops for the weekend.”

	Her partner, Nick Wilde, checked the time on their police cruiser’s clock and noted that it actually read five minutes after the end of shift.  Which, depending on how fast or slow the thing was, meant that they were anywhere from five minutes early to ten minutes late.  Not that it really mattered much with Judy’s enthusiasm for their job.  “Big plans for the weekend Carrots?”  He asked conversationally.

	His partner shrugged, “I don’t know, maybe catch up on some Netflix, get some sleep, maybe check out that museum now that it’s open again.  What about you Slick?”

	“Bit of this and that,” Nick replied, waving a paw idly.  “Hustle some pawpsicles, sell a crimelord a skunk-butt rug, you know, the usual stuff.”  That roused a small chuckle from Judy before he continued, taking on a more somber tone.  “Seriously though, there’s something I’ve been meaning to do for a while now that I’ve been putting off for too long.”

	Judy slowed the car as they approached the precinct lot, looking over at him as she asked, “what might that be?”

	The fox sighed as he started to explain.  “Remember the story of the time I tried to join the Junior Wilderness Scouts?”  Judy’s ears drooped and he took that as a cue to continue.  “When you were talking to the press after we found the Night Howler victims I started to have flashbacks.  I heard you talking about the “savage” predators and saw the pictures of the caged and muzzled victims and it reminded me of those kids and how they treated me.”

	“You didn’t mention that before.”  The bunny noted, “it explains why you were so angry afterwards though.  Aside from the, well, unintended racism I guess.  Sorry…”  Judy trailed off, her voice filled with regret.

	“Yes, well,” Nick replied, “I started thinking that maybe I needed to confront my old fears or something.  We occasionally need to muzzle perps on the job, but just looking at those things makes me tremble.  I was hoping you might help me a little with that.”

	“What do you mean?”  Judy asked, confused.  “Are you saying that you’d like me to, oh sweet cheese and crackers!” She exclaimed in sudden realization.

	“You’re the only mammal I’d trust to do it.”  Nick said quickly.  “I might ask Finnick to do it but he’d laugh and tease me the whole time.  There are some mammals who pay for that kind of thing after all.”

	“What?”  His partner replied, “you mean like that ‘Fifty Shades of Graze’ kind of thing?”

	“Ugh, no.”  The fox returned.  “I had a girlfriend who made me read that crap when it came out.  Couldn’t see the appeal myself.”  He stopped to think a minute.  “Though, maybe there’s something from there that could be useful.”

	“Like what?  Roleplaying?”

	“Actually, maybe that too.”  Nick considered.  “But I was actually thinking of that thing where you’d immediately let me out if I said something like say…”

---

That evening

“Raspberries!”  Nick shouted just as the last strap was secured behind his head.  Judy froze, her eyes widening and ears drooping at the panicked exclamation.

	“Oh, Nick, I’m sorry, so sorry.”  Springing into action she started to tug at the muzzle’s straps, trying to remove it from her partner as he struggled and whined.  After what seemed like an eternity she managed to undo the main strap on the mask, allowing it to slip free from the hapless fox’s face.  It was a police muzzle, checked out from the ZPD’s armory as they were signing out for the day, and not designed to come loose easily.

	Nick’s breathing slowed slightly as he was freed from the muzzle, but his paws were still bound, and in his thrashing had ended up beneath him.  Realizing that he was still bound, Judy fumbled for the keys to the cuffs and attempted to burrow her way beneath him.  As she tickled his back with her reaching paws Nick felt strangely reassured, she’d gone from a cruel oppressor, no, acting like one, to a concerned friend panicking over his safety.  He attempted to slow his breathing and relax, and the cuffs came free.

	As he stretched out Judy wriggled her way out from under him and threw herself against his chest.  “Oh Nick, I’m so, so sorry.”  Letting out a gasp of air from the impact, Nick glanced down at his partner.

	He stroked her ears with a free paw, reassuringly.  “It’s alright Carrots, I asked you to do this.  If anything it’s my fault for not knowing my limits.”

	“No,” Judy retorted.  “They taught us how to recognize the signs of PTSD, I should have realized you’d have that bad a reaction.  Maybe we should have started with just the cuffs or something, gone cautiously.”

	“Heh, good luck with that.”  Nick held up one arm that still had a cuff around the wrist, Judy’s key was still in the lock on the cuff clasping his wrist while the other cuff was closed but empty.  “Just needed to relax a bit and slipping out was easy.”

	Judy yanked the cuffs down and rather emphatically unlocked them.  “Silly fox.”  She replied.  “Though, you really should go see a psychiatrist instead of trying to work through your traumas with just your work partner for help.”

	“What?  But I thought we were making good progress here.”  At Judy’s scowl he sighed and conceded “okay, I’ll go look through the Yellow Pages for a professional.  Later.”  He added, holding her closer.