A VERY strange crossover

[windwraith]

Ok this began as a bet to come up with the most outrageous crossover and somehow make it beleavable. the plot bunny bit and i gave it a shot. now i'm running it up the flag pole to see what people think. this is just the first section i have a few more written but wanted to get some feedback.
so here you have:

gundam wing boys in the neighborhood of makebeleve

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Miss Relena “Henrietta” Pussycat was in a particularly playful mood and was none too pleased that her favorite clockwork mouse would not respond. It seemed to have broken since the last time she’s played with it. She flounced about her little tree cottage musing just what she ought to do. “I’ve got it meow!” she cried, “I just need to take him to be fixed…made better Purrrhaps.” She rummaged around in her closet to retrieve some things she nearly forgot scooped up her mousey and ran off to the S.Pecialty Factory.

She had always liked the factory with its stunning pink paint job and flashing lights and there were always new things to buy in the store below. J Cornelius had become proprietor some time ago after his Nephew Corny had married and moved to Northwood. J was a strange old man, a bit reclusive, but what he did he did well and should have no difficulty mending her mousey.

“Hello hello!” Miss Pussycat called batting at the factories bell pull with one carefully manicured paw.

“What can I do for you my dear.” The strange old man asked.

“I would meow like you to fix my mouse.” She stated carefully laying the clockwork toy on the table counter.”

The man looked it over with a critical eye, “The Casing is dented; had quite a bit of use would be my guess.”

“He is my favorite.” Kitty Relena blushed. “but he stopped working, is there anything you can do?”

“Possibly, but what are these other things you have brought?” J Adjusted his thick red rimmed specials to look at the assorted contents of the plastic pail in her other paw.

“Oh these meow meow? Just some things, I thought you could use to um… make him better. Snips and snails I got from the platypus family, a few puppy-dogs tails…those I collected myself.” she fluffed her fur proudly. “Only the very best, meow.”

The man frowned slightly in thought and toyed with the drooping end of his mustache, with his clawed hand, “So you don’t just want the mouse repaired you want him upgraded is that it?”

“Yes, meow…if you could.” She preened.

“Oh I can miss, but I just want to be sure that is really what you want. You said he was your favorite. Why do you want to change him?” J asked.

“Well he wasn’t perfect” She admitted delicately licking her paw. “I wouldn’t have had to bring him to you if he was.”

“Perfect.” The man nodded and gave her a crooked smile. “I’ll do what I can.”

With that he left Relena to browse in the factory showroom. She simply adored shopping and he need not concern himself with her while he took the broken toy and the ‘extras’ she has brought back into the cluttered confines of his workshop. “Snips and snails indeed.” He mumbled miss pussycat clearly wanted a differed sort of toy for her amusement. But he seriously doubted she had considered what to do of her toy should outgrow her.


=-0-0-0-0-0-=

J chuckled to himself as he made his way past haphazard stacks of this and that piles of thing-a-ma-bobs and half constructed odds and ends. A few things caught his eye prominent among them was a hard drive with its component wires and a collection of CPU chips. His nephew Corney had said they belonged to the 67 Bright 2 Robot, brought from the planet purple to measure the neighborhood in preparation for first Make-Believe Olympic Games. Sadly its programming had been rather limited and it became obsolete shortly there after.

“No matter” J grumbled to himself adding the units to the pile and setting them on the conveyer belt. The magical factory would do all the real work it was just a matter choosing the proper specifications and elements. He had always wanted to make something…perfect. He input the start sequence and the machine began. Lights blinked, cogs whirred, gears spun, machinery growled and clicked as the belt drew the ingredients into the confines of the factory itself. The act of creation always made J’s heart beat fast and the urge to laugh maniacally was almost impossible to contain. He could feel the electricity in the air making his hair…what little of it there was…stand on end. Then the machine hiccoughed and sputtered. Things didn’t always go as planned. Steam hissed and metal cried out like a great beast in travail ending when great puff of smoke erupted from the transducer coils and left J coughing and wheezing for air. He groped blindly for switch to engage the exhaust fan and when the air cleared there was a boy sitting on the end of the conveyer belt.

At least it appeared to be a boy. With big blue eyes honey toned skin. He was dressed in black shorts yellow sneakers and a green top. It was only when one looked closer that they noticed a metal headband bearing an additional pair of dish antenna ‘ears’ protruded from his mop unruly brown hair. Also, normal boys don’t generally possess a ‘mouse tail’ of ribbon cable.

The boy was in fact a robot and sat completely inert waiting to be activated: J opened the panel molded into his chest to be sure all was in order. “The spring is still far too tight” he grumbled but carried the boy to the lift that would take them both up to the showroom.

Miss Relena was what one might describe as ‘tickled pink’ to see what J had done to “Her Heero” and procuring a key from the pocket of her frilly apron stuck it the concealed slot in the boy’s back and began to twist vigorously.

“Wait!” J exclaimed but it was too late, deep blue eyes snapped open and the clockwork boy spun quickly, snatched the key from her hand, and ran out the door as fast as his legs would carry him.

[jakfrost]

O.O

[windwraith]

is that shock? good...bad...speachless? Should i can it now before your brain explodes or think about posting the next bit?

[alwaysthere]

OOh, this is interesting and fun too.

[windwraith]

Thanks I was worried I had wierded everyone out. Suppose i can post the next bit if you are interested.


Section Two

"After him after him!" the cat called. "Meow, X he is getting away!"

The robotic rodent ran and ran, chest heaving, legs pumping, hands fisted, breath coming hard and fast. He dodged around a large tree, right past the owls who had been roused by the cats shouting.

He wasn't quite sure what the raptors would do but a hundred escape and evade scenarios flitted about in his mind in a fraction of a second. He darted under a series of bushes and hedgerows before making a run for what appeared to be the safest place of refuge, a large impressive grandmother clock tower.

Once there he proceeded to scurry up it; higher and higher the toy-mouse, boy-mouse, went. He wasn't quite certain what had happened or how he had come to be in his present form. But transcendental musings did not rate very high on his list of imperatives at the moment. All he did was give heed to the instinct to climb. Climb far and climb fast.

Somehow he knew time was not on his side. His mechanized ears swiveled this way and that like the tiny radar dishes they were recording very precise data: distance, speed, velocity, tensile strength, and trajectory. Heero dodged the pendulum as it swung using his prehensile tail to grasp what ever it could to aid him in the assent.

His chest heaved, breath burning in his lungs and the steady ticking of his heart was loud in his ears. By the time he reached the upper landing and he was already feeling rather faint from exertion. It was there he came face to face with a rather smallish tiger.

"Hello," said the tiger, blue eyes wide eyed in surprise.

"Hn." replied the boy valiantly attempted to catch his breath without looking vulnerable. He took a few heartbeats to process the relevant data but his initial findings seemed to indicate this tiger's threat level was significantly lower than the frilly pink feline's had been ¡­ which was something of an anomaly.

He could not explain the gut wrenching sensation that sent the adrenalin coursing through his veins at the mere sight of that female. But instinct screamed for him to run¡­and so he had. The tiger did not evoke the same reaction. But tigers WERE cats were they not? And this one was almost the same size as other had been. Heero puzzled and was about to recalculate his threat assessment when the tiger bowed politely and introduced himself.

"My name is Daniel Striped Tiger but you may call me Quatre."

The mouse boy found this declaration to be a bit obscure and he blinked speculatively trying to ascertain the logic behind it.

The blonde tiger seemed to sense his confusion and went on to explain, "My family is French originally. Quatre is French for the number four. These four stripes on my tail are my most favorite so I go by Quatre."

"Understood," Heero nodded once, and his entire body swayed with the motion as disorientation threatened to overcome him.

"If you will forgive me for saying, you do not look at all well. May I fetch you some tea or something?" Quatre offered.

"Mistress...­Cat..­danger...owls...possible threat...running down. don't let them -- System going off line in five¡­four three...­two..." Heero faltered thrusting his key into the startled tigers grasp before he pitched forward unconscious.

The blonde barely had time to catch him as he fell but gamely carried him further into his home behind the clock's face, depositing him on the swooning couch in the parlor then brought his antique telephone out onto the terrace to ring up his friend and ask for advice but before the operator could connect them Quatre found he had another visitor.

"Hickory Dickory Doc, I say, did a mechanized mouse boy run up your clock?" The dark eyed owlet asked with a sly grin.

'Owls were a possible threat¡' the mouse had said. Quatre didn't know X's new border particularly well. The foreign owl had only arrived some weeks ago to study with Dr Platypus. His daughter Mary Ana was already very fond of her father's student. Chang had mistakenly called her 'Meiran' and she found the name charming insisting everyone else use it as well.

Quatre had been a long time friend of Ana platypus and generally trusted her assessment of character but he not met his new neighbor in person. Birds can be rather particular and even one 'empathically sensitive' as he himself was, found it difficult to read their intentions. At first the tiger glowered at the owl "And if he had come this way? What do you intend to do about it?" he challenged, "Do you mean to frighten him again?"

"Injustice, I did nothing of the sort." WuFei ruffled his glossy black feathers, "It was Miss Relina who set him off and running which is no surprise really. I've heard her batting him about more than once just since I've arrived and it seems like it is a regular occurrence. She gets rather rough with him but doubt she's ever misplaced her Heero before now. And to have him go missing wounded her pride...X says he has never seen her in such a snit. In fact she has gone to the palace to raise a search party to find him."

"Oh dear," Quatre frowned absently fingering the vaguely butterfly shaped key. "The poor boy seemed quite distraught before he passed out. I doubt he wants to go back to her, especially if she means to mistreat him."

"Well you might try and rouse him before the search party arrives, else she'll have him hauled back to the tree house quick as a blink. And no one will have an opportunity to hear his side of things." WuFei suggested fluffing his wings.

"I might.­" Quatre said thoughtfully then his thoughts derailed as the phone receiver nearly forgotten in his paw connected and a familiar voice echoed over the airwaves.

"Hullo?"

"Trowa! It is me Quatre!" the tiger grinned, liquid blue eyes shining bright.

"Trowa means three¡, third day of the week. Is that Prince Tuesday on the line?" the owlet asked.

Quatre nodded but attempted to hush the bird. It was difficult enough to hear the soft spoken prince amid the clamor of the search party assembling in the background. As for WuFei, he had to be content with hearing a one-sided conversation.

"No, no he's here, but it seems there is more going on than miss kitty is saying." Quatre tried to explain. "Can you lead them away for a while? Yes take them to someplace else. Search the schoolhouse. You'll try? Brilliant! See you later then. I knew I could count on you!" the blonde tiger looked relived as he hung up the phone. "So how do I wake Heero? You said that was his name didn't you?"

"That is what she calls him." WuFei nibbled one of his talons speculatively, "Put the key in its slot and wind him I should think."

WuFei did not follow the tiger into the clock, he hadn't been invited. And if there was one thing his ancestors had tried to instill in their young it was a sense of propriety. But he waited; eyes closed wings partially furled, idly sunning himself on the veranda.

The owlet looked to have fallen into a light doze, owls were supposed to be nocturnal after all, though few could tell it by observing the avian inhabitants of the land of make-believe. Despite appearances, WuFei was not in fact asleep; if questioned he would say he had been meditating, but in point of fact his keen ears were attuned to all that went on in the parlor beyond.

Quatre found the slot situated between Heero's shoulder blades it was not even covered by his loose green shirt. Living in a clock the young tiger knew a thing or two about winding a spring. Turning the key too fast would cause the spirals to tighten unevenly; the outermost constricting faster than those on those inside creating a gap between and cutting the run time dramatically, which is likely what happened.

There had to be a release catch somewhere. Quatre reset the spring then went about carefully winding him up again. He felt the tension increase with each turn but was careful not to tighten it too far or to fast. Heero was a person, despite his clock-work nature, and as such he deserved every care. When the spring was secure he removed the key and blue eyes woke to life once more.

"Good morning." The young tiger smiled warmly.

Heero cocked his head his antenna ears swiveling to focus on the blonde.
"Is it?" he asked in a careful monotone.

"Not really," the tigers smile did not waver, he glanced at the ornate watch on one tan striped wrist, "It is just past one but my Grandpere says it is good manners to say good morning when someone wakes regardless of the time."

"Hn.¡" Heero replied and carefully filed the information away.

"So your name ¡s Heero is it?" Quatre said trying to draw out the taciturn mouse boy. A point of irony that was not lost on the young tiger; He had been regarded as the shy/timid one in the neighborhood for years, but thanks to the gentle encouragement of his friends¡­Prince Trowa most especially¡­ he had begun to open up and now, hopefully, he could help someone else do the same.

"Hai" Heero responded.

"Hi?¡" Quatre echoed.

"Hai means yes." WuFei interjected helpfully, "You speak Japanese?¡"

Heero didn't feel the need to answer, he simply tugged his shirt down a bit to reveal the barcode emblazoned over his heart. The words were clear for any who cared to read them "made in Japan YUY-H33RO1."

"Yuy Industries is an important company." Quatre nodded sagely, "I read an article about them in last months Fanatical Times. They pride themselves on setting the industry standard for superior craftsmanship and durability. I expect you came with a lifetime warranty, but that shouldn't mean you have to go back to Miss Relena."

The mere use of the name made Heero shiver. Miss Relina was his Mistress and had been for he didn't know how long¡­he had been made special just for her. She had told him that often enough. But that didn't seem to matter as much now. He did not want that cat to find him. Heero drew his knees up to his chest and pulled them close with his arms. -Processing- there was an owl on the veranda but its posture was relaxed, unthreatening. Despite the chills currently running down his spine, the threat assessment had not changed.

Quatre had noticed the boy went suddenly ridged and tried to think of a way to distract him from thoughts of his former mistress. ¡"Oh I am being such a horrible host!" he apologized. "I did offer you tea, would you like some¡­How about you WuFei?"

The owls eyes opened slowly. He liked a good cup of tea but own porcelain tea set was still awaiting shipment from china, and X only made coffee at the house. "Herbal tea if you have it," he answered only then making his way inside.

"Watashi wa Zhang Wufei" The Owl introduced in himself in the boys native tongue and offered a polite bow before settling into the chair opposite him. The mouse boy only blinked over the bulwark of his arms.

"Oh I should have done introductions, how remiss of me!"
Quatre apologized again as he busied himself gathering scones with jam and clotted cream, cups saucers all perfectly arranged on the tray.


"Think nothing of it."WuFei was still learning 'western traditions' tried to be congenial but the truth was he had been 'prickly' even as a hatchling and hadn't had many friends. His grandmother had said studying abroad would be his chance to turn over a new leaf so to speak, though he wasn't quite sure how. "You have a very nice home." He told the tiny tiger.

"Thank you." the blonde blushed as set the tray on the tea table.

WuFei was quick to help himself, and wasn¡'t the neatest eater, crumbs slipping to fall on satiny feathers. Heero watched intently but scarcely budged an inch.

"Won't you try a jam tart, they are very good." Quatre offered politely.

Heero took one of the little round biscuits but wasn't particularly sure what to do with it. He'd never taken sustenance in this manner. Not that he could recall anyway. His memories from¡­before¡­were hazy and unclear.

Heero wanted very much to understand. His head hurt, and his chest felt tight. Something was not right. For all intent and purpose he was performing at optimal but it seemed his operational parameters had been inexplicably altered. When he felt himself going off line earlier he hoped the reboot would fix whatever was wrong; that things would go back to the way they had been before but it had not been the case.

He had been content with his mistress hadn't he? He entertained her. It was the purpose for which he had been crafted. She would wind him up and he would run until she caught him or occasionally she would loose interest and let him rattle around her apartment till he ran down on his own. So running hadn't been all that uncharacteristic for him, but he had never run as far or as fast as he had this time and he would never have dared take the key. 'Why had he taken the key? Why had he given it to the tiger?' Heero puzzled eying the flakey pastries resting in his palm.

"They are good." the owl, WuFei, confirmed popping two or three into his mouth at a time. Quatre ate more carefully savoring the jam center. After holding his piece rather a long time Heero finally put it in his mouth.

His eyes widened in surprise at the burst of sensation on his tongue and he found himself licking his lips, salivating even. It didn't take much encouragement for him to sample just about everything on the tray; cinnamon toast, jam and bread, corn muffins with honey butter, Biscuits with clotted cream¡­so many flavors and textures it was impossible to catalog them. "Hmmmm," His eyes slid closed unbidden as he savored each one.

"Poor boy, He looks half starved. Just what was Miss Relina thinking?" Quatre exchanged glances with WuFei.

"His mistreatment might have been unintentional,¡" The owl snapped his beak in the avian equivalent of a frown and ruffled his feathers. "But it certainly can't be permitted to continue."

[windwraith]

Section three

Prince Trowa Tuesday led the search party out the back of beyond and round the levy to the Schoolhouse in Someplace else. Relena pussycat was a single minded creature when and she had her heart set on getting what she wanted. Her intermittent yowling of “HEERO!” was already getting on everyone’s nerves. If Quatre hadn’t specifically asked him to keep them away from the objective he would have seriously considered turning the mouse over to her just to shut her up and it seemed others felt the same. But they were clear across the neighborhood and of course, there was no sign of their quarry.

By the time they reached the little red school house the posse was more than content to stop for lunch. Lady Lucretezia Aberlain Noin ran a small café at the far edge of town and after fine food and a bit of gossip. There had been no sign of the missing mouse, not surprising, and it was getting late. It didn’t take much to convince the men to return to their regular duties.

Relina was one of the last to slink away only agreeing to return home after she had personally entreated each and every one of them to do all in their power to return her precious Heero to her. But the prince knew under her zeal the cat was more than a little flighty and would much prefer to laze in the sunshine picking flowers than traipse the length and breadth of the land of make-believe especially if she could convince others to do most of the leg-work for her.

Trowa was just about ready to start making his way back home to the castle when he saw a figure headed his way at top speed. There was only one person it could be hurtling down the path on silver inline skates, pale golden mane training behind him like a comets tail. The messenger hurtled over a fallen log spun in a tight circle with the grace of a ballet dancer and skidded to a halt before the taciturn prince. “Speedy delivery,” Zechs announced with a quirky half smile.

“I expect it is a missive from my sister the Queen on Father’s behalf.” Trowa stifled the urge to yawn.

“Correct as usual Prince Tuesday.” The tall blonde mock bowed, withdrawing the rolled parchment from his pouch. Zechs was a Sindarin elf, with ice blue eyes and hair the color of moonglow. Just what had brought him to take up the job of messenger in the land of Make-believe was anybody’s guess, though Trowa and his friends had their suspicions.

The Prince broke the seal with some trepidation. As he had gotten older he tried to separate himself more and more from the general affairs of the castle but it wasn’t easy. To say his royal Father was eccentric was something of an understatement and it had only gotten worse after their mother’s passing. Friday XIII was more ring master than royal these days. He was still King in name but it was more than apparent that after loosing his dear Sara he would never marry again.

Catherine had returned from her travels abroad to take up the crown as well as the reigns of state. Prince Trowa, not to mention the rest of the people of Make-believe, knew how lucky they were to have her. She indulged King Friday in much the same way their mother had, as did everyone else, but his schemes certainly kept them on their toes. No one could say what his next brilliant idea might require.

“He wants me to catch a ghost, says it is part of my princely duty.” Trowa sighed and shook his head ruefully, “Sometimes it seems like there isn’t much that isn’t my princely duty. I’ve been captain of the royal guard, neighborhood archivist, Clown, juggler, musician, acrobat, even wild animal tamer… though I had to draw the line when the he wanted to know if Quatre was the sort of tiger that could jump through flaming hoops. What would you do of you were a prince Zechs?” Trowa asked the man

“Me?” the blonde’s eyes widened in momentary surprise. “A prince?” he skated backward a few paces then turned in a lazy figure-eight. It took a few seconds for the ‘thoughtful-look’ on his noble features to dissolve into his somewhat haughty smile. “I’d run away from home and as soon as I was old enough, change my name and move to some imaginary land where no one had ever heard of me. Once free of the royal obligation I’d strive to make my own way in the world; possibly getting a job that was completely mundane…like delivering mail.”

Trowa scoffed, “I’m afraid that won’t help me very much. I’ve already changed my name, Triton Tiberius Tuesday was a mouthful and I’d rather go by no-name at all than go back to that. And I’ve worked just about every mundane job you could think of. Besides, I can’t leave Make-believe or I might never get my wings.

Zechs nodded in understanding. It was a well known fact that the royal house of Bloom traced their lineage back to the royal court of the Sidhe. Catherine, like her mother Queen Sara received her wings upon reaching her majority and taking up the crown. This was not all together unexpected given that it requires an equal measure of courage, compassion leadership, and service to reign in a King like Friday.

Trowa was still young for a sprite and had yet to gain his wings. He chafed under the strictures of duty at times but everyone knew that when the time came for him to stand before the wild hunt he would not be found wanting. This conversation was just his way to let off a little steam and Zechs would not begrudge him that even if it had hit a little too close to home. The blonde elf understood the prince’s frustrations all to well. He let his rollerblades take him backward a few paces then circled back to the prince.

“If you really needed other options they are out there.” Zechs admitted. “There is a host of Fae in the forests of Neverland and Queen Belle could grant you wings when your time comes. I know the parcel service there has a few openings and Treize would be happy to write you a recommendation. The only draw back is they don’t offer messengers much in the way of health benefits, on account of the pirates.”

“You really love your job don’t you?” Trowa smiled at his earnestness. “What was it Lady Noin say when we were in the cafe? Zechs Merquise gives Speedy Delivery new meaning; he is quick as lightning and twice as bright.”

Zechs cheeks colored a bit at the praise. “She needed some special ingredients at the last minute for Lady Elaine’s wedding feast. I was just at the right place at the right time to see she get them. It was nothing really. Lady Noin is a consummate baker and a good friend.” The elf smiled, skating in a few circles around the prince. “But she tends to lay the icing on a bit thick in both cases.”

“It is true.” The prince chuckled. “Speaking of Lady Elaine, that brings me back to the contents of the letter. When she and Minister G returned from their honeymoon they found museum-go-round less than welcoming. There have been a rash of electrical failures; light bulbs have been tampered with changing colors at random and the plumbing is making strange noises in the night. Items have been broken or gone missing only to show up later in unlikely places. Museum displays have been purposely mislabeled or rearranged becoming parodies.

There have never been vandals in make-believe but as soon as they try to set things to rights, another exhibit is thrown into disarray. They claim it is all the work of a vengeful spirit; A phantom of the museum-go-round. Things have apparently gotten so bad they lodged a complaint with the crown.”

“So someone has got to investigate the allegations and get rid of whatever is causing the trouble,” Zechs tucked a long lock of hair behind his delicately pointed ear and hmm’ed in sympathy.

“Someone usually means Quatre and I. This seems like it is going to be a big job though, the museum-go-round it huge, not to mention magical. I don’t suppose I could convince you to like to help…or Treize perhaps?” Trowa asked hopefully.

“In order to find this ghost,” Zechs raised a golden brow speculatively “you would have to go behind the silken ropes where the former Lady Elaine Fairchild would never let us go before …prowl all the dark halls and winding passages … see all the exhibits that have been packed away for who knows how long…and learn all the secrets the place has to offer. Complete unrestricted access! Looking at it like I think the ghost has the right Idea, Heck I’m half tempted to haunt the place myself! I expect Treize would feel the same. But we just don’t have the time.” the blonde looked absolutely crestfallen by the admission.

“Even faced with a royal decree I’ve still got deliveries and Treize is tied down being postmaster general and mayor. Sometimes I think your royal sister gives us so much responsibility because she is afraid we will get into mischief if we’ve got time on our hands.” The blonde pouted unabashedly, “I could really use an adventure. It would make my week; but, duty calls I am afraid. Here is a thought though. Speaking of duty, you might ask Treize’s chess partner Chang to help. I understand he is a student of history and ancient lore and could be a great help. You’ll have to ask gently though, he isn’t very good at making friends and it might take a bit of encouragement to get out of the tree,” the elf suggested.

“All right, I’ll talk it over with Quatre and we’ll go from there.” The prince nodded.

“Let me know how it goes…in great detail…and if you don’t find anything before Friday afternoon Treize and I will leave work early to lend a hand for the weekend.” Zechs offered.

“Sure enough” Trowa agreed. “See you later.”

The blonde nodded then with a salute, a hearty “Speedy delivery” and a swirl of lengthy blonde hair he was off about his rounds.