This is part five of the 'A Heist too Far' series.
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"Don't move—I mean it!" Bonnie's voice cut through the flour-dusted air as Finnick froze mid-reach toward the cooling rack. The little diaper clad fennec's paw hovered inches from a still-warm sugar cookie, his ears twitching in defeat.
Judy's laughter bubbled up from the kitchen doorway where she leaned against the frame, arms crossed. "Caught red-pawed again, huh kiddo?"
Finnick scowled, retracting his arm as if burned. "Wasn't gonna eat it. Just... inspecting."
"Uh-huh." Nick's voice drifted over from the sink as he was drying his paws after washing the dishes, thick with amusement. "Same way you 'inspected' three from the last batch?"
Bonnie crossed her arms and tapped her foot. "Finnick Hopps-Wilde," she said with mock severity, using the new full name he'd been blessed with since this whole contract started, "do we need to review the cookie rules again?"
Finnick's tail poofed slightly at the full name usage. "Granny, come on—"
"Ah-ah!" Judy interrupted, pushing off the doorway and stepping forward. She plucked the contested cookie from the rack and held it just out of Finnick's reach. "First offense gets you cleanup duty like your papa. Second offense?" She took an exaggerated bite, crunch echoing through the kitchen. "Cookie confiscation."
Nick's dramatic gasp carried from the living room. "Cold-blooded, Carrots."
Finnick's nose twitched as the cookie crumbs rained down from Judy's bite. His ears flattened against his head—half indignation, half theatrical despair—as he dramatically clutched his chest. "UUghghh...MMOommOMMMM....!"
Bonnie snorted, thwacked her paw lightly against his diaper. "Oh please, you drama queen. You've eaten enough cookies to—"
"Objection!" Nick's voice rang out as he sauntered over from the sink, tossing a dish towel over one shoulder. "My client was framed. Those were clearly self-defense cookies." He leaned down conspiratorially to Finnick. "Tell the jury: did the cookie *look* at you funny first?"
Finnick nodded gravely. "Real smug-like."
Finnick's stomach growled loudly, betraying him before he could launch into his next theatrical defense. The entire kitchen erupted in laughter—Bonnie's warm chuckle, Judy's snorting giggles, and Nick's wheezing cackles blending together like ingredients in one of their mixing bowls.
"Hungry jury's dismissed," Judy declared, wiping flour from her cheeks where Finnick's earlier dramatic flour-swipe had landed. She tossed the remaining half of the confiscated cookie back to him with a wink. "Eat it before I change my mind."
Finnick caught it mid-air with his teeth, triumphant grin muffled by chocolate chips. Nick ruffled the fur between his ears, earning a half-hearted swat from the fennec. "Atta boy. Next time, wait till the cookies are *in* your mouth before causing trouble."
Bonnie shook her head, stirring the last fresh bowl of dough. "Honestly, between the two of you, I don't know who's worse."
The last batch was slid into the oven and the burrow’s large living room was filled with the warm, buttery-sweet aroma of fresh cookies. Golden trays cooled on every flat surface. A crackling fire in the stone fireplace cast a cozy glow over the room.
Finnick flopped onto the living room rug with a dramatic sigh, surrounded by an impressive collection of toddler-sized wooden farm animals that Stu had carved for the younger bunnies. His stubby fingers made the carrot-shaped cow and turnip-faced chicken trot across the carpet in what might've been either an elaborate heist reenactment or a very abstract interpretation of Swan Lake—it was hard to tell. Across the room, Judy and Bonnie settled onto the couch with identical smug smiles that Nick recognized immediately as Trouble With A Capital T.
Nick lounged on the oversized couch between Judy and Bonnie, one arm draped lazily around his bunny girlfriend. He popped another warm cookie into his mouth and grinned.
“You know, ladies,” he drawled in that smooth, teasing voice as he licked his fingers clean, “all that cookie baking today really drove it home. You bunnies have an absolute obsession with carrots, don’t you? One little carrot top in the mix and suddenly everything multiplies like crazy. Efficient little root-vegetable fanatics. It’s honestly adorable how you turn one humble carrot into an entire empire.”
Judy’s ears snapped upright. Bonnie placed a paw dramatically over her heart, gasping theatrically.
“Well I never!” Bonnie exclaimed, eyes wide with mock indignation. “Did you hear that, Judy? This city fox is mocking our carrots—the very lifeblood of this farm!”
Judy crossed her arms, leaning forward with a playful glare. “Oh, I heard every word. ‘Obsessed,’ he says. Maybe we should start calling you ‘Mr. Processed-Food’ instead of Sly Fox. At least we appreciate real, honest produce grown with love, not whatever synthetic junk you ate back in the city.”
The two bunnies tag-teamed him gleefully. Bonnie teased him about wrinkling his nose at fresh garden carrots. Judy poked his ribs, accusing him of being a “hustling fox who wouldn’t know good soil if it stuck to his tail.” Nick played along with exaggerated groans and mock wounded expressions, clutching his chest. “You two are too much! I’m just a simple fox trying to survive a household of proud carrot connoisseurs!”
All the while, little Finnick is sitting on the floor and snickering at the squabble.
After several minutes of laughter-filled ribbing, Judy finally broke, collapsing against Nick’s shoulder in giggles. “We’re just kidding, you big dummy.”
Bonnie patted his knee warmly. “Teasing is how we show love around here, honey. You’re family now.”
Nick let out a theatrical sigh of relief and pulled Judy closer. “Whew. Thought I was gonna have to eat my vegetables in the corner tonight.”
Finnick, who had returned his attention to the toys and half-listening with a tiny smirk, suddenly went still. His ears flicked back. Without a word, the little fennec shuffled on all fours behind the large sofa, trying to hide. He squatted slightly, face scrunching up in concentration. A soft crinkle and the unmistakable push filled the seat of his diaper with the tiniest of grunts.
Judy’s keen bunny ears twitched instantly. She sat up straighter. “Finnick…?”
Nick blinked, confused. “What? He’s just playing back there, Carrots. Let him be.”
Judy stood and walked around the sofa. Finnick froze mid-act, tail tucked tightly against his padded bottom. She gently tugged him out by the paw, gave the heavily sagging, warm seat of his diaper a knowing pat, and sniffed. The unmistakable odor confirmed it.
“Sweetie,” Judy cooed softly, crouching to his eye level with a gentle, motherly smile, “do you need a change?”
Finnick crossed his arms tightly, cheeks burning bright red beneath his cream-colored fur. “N-no! I don’t need a change! Go away…” he lied, voice annoyed and embarrassed.
Judy didn’t believe him for a second. She straightened up and turned to Nick, still lounging on the couch. “Nick, your son needs a change. Go get the supplies.”
Nick’s ears flattened. “Me? C’mon, Carrots. You and Bonnie are WAY more experienced. You’ve changed hundreds—maybe thousands—of little bunny buns between you two. I’ll just mess it up.”
Bonnie raised an amused eyebrow but stayed quiet for now. Judy planted her paws on her hips, ears firm. “Nick Wilde, we’ve discussed this. You signed the contract. You are Finnick’s primary caregiver—his papa. This is part of your responsibilities. No more dodging.”
Nick shifted uncomfortably, glancing between the two ladies. “But look at him—he’s already grumpy. You two make it look so easy. I’m still figuring out the tapes, the powder, the wipes, the whole process. Can’t one of you just handle this one...?”
“Nick,” Judy said gently but firmly, “you need to step up. This is exactly what the contract requires of you as a fatherly figure.” After several more minutes of back-and-forth—Nick pleading, the bunnies patiently countering—he finally sighed in defeat. “Alright, alright. I’ll do it. For the contract… and to keep the peace.”
He fetched the changing pad, a pack of wipes, powder, rash cream, and a fresh Foxy Cut diaper. Spreading the pad out right in the middle of the living room floor, he beckoned Finnick over. By now, a handful of curious bunny children had wandered in from the hallway, drawn by the commotion. They plopped down on the rug, wide-eyed and giggling, ready to watch the show.
"Do they gotta be here...?" asked Finnick in a whiney voice in reference to the bunny kiddos that appeared out of nowhere.
"Yes hun. It's there house too and you're stinkin' it up." teased Bonnie as Finnick blushed some more, "However, they'll stay back and let your daddy do his job."
Bonnie and Judy settled comfortably on the couch, both wearing matching amused smiles as the now six little bunnies grouped on the opposite side of Finnick and Nick.
The first step was simultaneously the easiest and hardest as all Nick had to do was rip the tabs open and pull the front of the stink bomb of a diaper back.
*RIP!**RIP!*
"ACK! Ugh, Finnick...What have we been feeding you...?" gagged Nick as he quickly grabbed some wipes and started cleaning.
"That would be the many carrot based dishes we bunnies like to make!" commented Judy from the couch with laughter in reference to the earlier conversation.
"Mama! It's SO stinky in here!" giggled one of the five year old buns named Jasper as he dramatically plugged his own nose and fell back.
This got a huge laugh out of the bunny child group while a mortified Finnick pulled his ears over his face in embarrassment. Jasper also caught a quick glare from mama Bonnie and quickly shaped up.
"Now now Jasper, leave your little cousin alone. After all it's only been a few years since YOU were in this exact situation." lightly lectured Bonnie as the bunny brood had a little laugh at Jasper's expense.
Nick fumbled his way through the rest of change like a complete novice. He got Finnick down on the pad and the diaper un-taped easily enough, but the tapes on the new diaper got stuck to his own fur, powder puffed out in a cloud (coating his shirt and half the rug), and wipes went flying. Finnick grumbled and squirmed the entire time, mortified by the audience. “This is stupid… Papa’s the worst at this…”
“Almost there, kiddo...” Nick muttered deep in concentration, wrestling with the final tapes. “There. All done!”
He stood Finnick up triumphantly. The little fennec’s diaper was on perfectly…perfectly and completely backwards. The tapes were fastened on the landing strip but ended up pinning the fennec's tail against his back, while the thick and padded rear of the diaper was awkwardly bunched over his belly.
Judy and Bonnie burst into loud, warm laughter. Judy covered her mouth while Bonnie wiped a tear from her eye. The watching bunny kits joined in with delighted giggles and pointing paws.
“Oh my goodness, Nick!” Judy laughed.
Finnick looked down at himself, then glared up at his “papa,” ears flat against his head, cheeks burning. “I don't think you could position it this way again if you tried- Did you even try?!”
Nick scratched the back of his head with a sheepish, lopsided grin. “Hey, progress is progress, right? Next time it’ll be frontwards. Scout’s honor.”
The laughter echoed through the living room once more. Finnick crossed his arms in classic grumpy-tot fashion, but a tiny, reluctant smirk tugged at the corner of his muzzle despite the embarrassment.
"Come here sweety..." beckoned Bonnie through the laughter, "Nana will fix you right up since you papa did the hard part."
Finnick awkwardly waddled over to Bonnie who quickly and correctly re-positioned the diaper and sent him on his way.
One backwards diaper at a time, this strange little family was slowly figuring things out together—on the farm, under the warm glow of the fire, and now surrounded by just the smell of cookies and the sound of laughter.
