It was a peaceful evening in the Hundred Acre Woods, now that the natives had been subjugated.
* * *
There was a rumour sweeping through the stormtroopers. A guerilla fighter, out in the woods somewhere, particularly to be found wherever bees buzzed or acorns, er, acorned. A small figure, moving in the darkness. There was a sign up for him, even. His name was "Trespassers Will." No one had been seriously injured, but there were two people in the infirmary currently, unconscious with circular bruises on their temples, and others saying they’d heard screams...
Trooper RD-4343 looked around nervously as he took over from PK-6004. An owl hooted menacingly in the trees, making him flinch.
PK-6004 smacked him on the shoulder. Her voice was muffled through her helmet. “Don’t be stupid. Everything’s fine. Go patrol through the area with Big Stones and Rocks. then take over from ZT-9992 on waste at midnight.”
RD-4343 blinked under his helmet. “The area with-?”
“Sector Six Four, dummy.” She tilted her head. “What did you think I said?”
“Nothing,” he replied hastily. He saluted to her, managing this time not to smack his hand so hard on the helmet that it’d ache for hours. He really wasn’t that fond of being a stormtrooper. Oh, you heard stories about how exciting it was, and how you didn’t have to kill THAT many people, but when it all came down to it.... he didn’t really like all the tromping and all the shouting.
But he’d been a stormtrooper for eleven and a half days now, and he knew this was his life. He had no choice. So he put a serious expression on his face, well aware that that’d carry over into his tone. “All right. I’m off to Sector Six Four, then I’ll take over on waste at midnight.”
* * *
Winnie the Pooh looked bearishly up at the tall lady who was patting Christopher Robin’s head. She put a plate of something on the floor for them.
Pooh clung to Christopher Robin’s knee. Christopher Robin patted his head, much the same way as the tall lady had done to him. “Well, Bear, let’s see what we have,” he said, and the courage in his voice made Pooh’s courage rise as well.
“Elevenses?” he said hopefully. “Well, no, not elevenses... there’s no clock in here, so it can’t be about eleven o’clock, because of the clocklessness. It just stands to reason! But perhaps this is a midnight snack, instead. Or a midmorning snack! I’m quite sure I haven’t eaten in hours and hours and hours, not since this adventure started. But it’s terribly difficult to see outside with no window!”
It was indeed difficult. The small room they were in was made of metal, and had a small bed, and the small two of them, and very little else.
Christopher Robin laughed. “You’re entirely correct, Bear. Not halfway, not two thirds, but entirely. Let’s eat.”
He took the lid off the tray. What appeared at first to be some kind of thin gruel with glasses of cloudy water somehow shimmered, and then turned into something far more scrumptious. Two bowls brimming with porridge with a dollop of honey on top, and two big mugs of milk. Steam rose from the bowls and the mugs.
* * *
It was about ninety minutes later that RD-4343 heard a rustling in the bushes. He was reasonably sure that the types of bushes had different names, but it’d never been something he’d had to know before. Huh. Funny. Who cared about bushes, really? It was like caring about the colours of paint splashed on that little cottage in the middle of the clearing.
There was a giggle, and then something small and hard hit him on the temple, making him spin.
“Wh-who’s there?” he called.
The last thing he saw was stripes bounding up into his face, and then he was flat on his back... and everything faded.
* * *
The next morning, they came to get Christopher Robin, who didn't get out of bed fast enough. Pooh had been on the floor, happily eating the last of the honey he'd found, but he froze with his eyes on Christopher Robin. The helmetless stormtrooper grabbed his arm. He let go, quickly, muttering something about his manners, but then his expression firmed up into crankiness again. Just like when one tried to dogear a book one was reading at Owl's house. Quite a forbidding look, whether on a birdish face or a humanish face. Christopher Robin stood up, clutching his arm. He had a rumbly look on his face, that look that was like stormclouds and strong winds, like rain that wouldn’t let up! Pooh looked at him. He looked up at the stormtrooper, who laughed – laughed! – at Christopher Robin. He looked at the unexpected little blue blinky thing with lights that had shimmered into view on the floor, behind the bed. He looked at the pot of honey, which had a few little slurrops down the bottom, still, just waiting for him to upend it over his head to trickle into his mouth.
This really was a grumbly kind of day.
“Oh, bother,” Pooh said irritably, then he leapt over Christopher Robin, grabbed the blue blinky thing, and pressed the button on the side. It went ~fwoom~ delightfully as he whirled it over his head. He dove at the stormtrooper, slashing across his middle, lightning fast. The trooper’s pants immediately fell down. He screeched, just as another stormtrooper bounced through the door with a long tail out behind.
“Has anyone seen my Roo?”
“Kanga!” Pooh cried.
She took off her helmet. The stormtrooper was still screeching something about how he hadn’t been wearing big spotted boxer shorts when he got dressed that morning. He started crying. Kanga automatically tucked him against her side, and patted his shoulder. “There, there, dear. Come with me and help me find my son, and then I’ll make you some nice hot milk before bedtime.”
* * *
It wasn’t much of a fight, in the end. The spaceship, with thousands of tiny little dents in the side, with big orange and white stripes and big Tiggerish grins painted all over it, took off in what seemed very much like a huff.
A few stayed behind.
* * *
It was morning. Quite an early morning. Pooh hadn't been aware that mornings could get this early. Eeyore was finishing up explaining things to the newcomers. “You can be angry. You can be sad. You can spend time alone, if you need to,” said Eeyore dolefully. “But you can’t be mean to your friends.”
* * *
RD-4343 looked at PK-6004, who looked back at him. Piko removed her helmet. Roddy, tentatively, did the same, fluffing up his black curls automatically as he did so. He always kind of felt like they got squashed down against his brain, inside the stupid helmet. Piko sensibly kept her red hair, bright against her skin which was even darker than his, buzzed close to her skull.
Roddy made a decision. It was one of the biggest decisions of his life. He sat down on the picnic blanket between Piko and Owl, who made a satisfied sound under his breath.
“Those rules sound all right,” Piko said uncertainly. She sat down, too, at first with her posture ramrod straight, but then she relaxed. She even leaned forward and rested an elbow on her knee.
Roddy nodded. “We – we can stay.” Eeyore solemnly handed him a balloon.
YV-0010 – Wyv - didn’t say anything from where he sat next to Kanga, cuddled up to Roo. He was completely out of uniform already, wearing only his t-shirt and big spotted boxer shorts. The only sound he made was an occasional pht pht pht from sucking his thumb.
“I’m sorry for hitting you with haycorns,” Piglet said, reaching up to pat Roddy’s knee. “I was trying to get your attention! None of you seemed to hear us correctly! It was like that time that Pooh got honey in his ears.”
“Delicious and amazing, yes,” Pooh said happily.
Piglet laughed. “Oh, Pooh.”
* * *
It was a peaceful morning in the Hundred Acre Woods, now that the invaders had been invited to tea. Later on, Pooh and the others had plans to help them build a little cottage, close to the Six Pine Trees. Well. After Pooh had had a little nap, of course.