A Little Problem
A SPIT/LOTR/FFVII crossover fic by SkyFIre

Rating: PG
Category: AU? Hell yeah.
Pairing(s): None
Warnings: I wrote it...? See the fandoms and expect the unexpected. ;P
Summary: Rabbit has a little otherworldly problem..
Notes: I have the feeling that some (if not all) of my characters are being a bit OOC (at least in how they talk). I've really got to sit down and re-read a ton of stuff.... =_=

Rabbit paused for the fifth time in as many minutes. He cast a sharp glance around, taking in a deep breath as he did, smelling the damp, early-morning scent trees and grasses mingles with the salt of the crisp sea breeze.

For the fifth time in as many minutes, he smelled nothing out of place; all as it should be.

So why was every instinct he had screaming at him that he wasn't alone?

A low growl rumbling in his chest, he made his way to one of the many paths that led down the cliff to the beach. Fighting back against instinct that told him to find cover, to hide, he made his way across the open expanse of gem-littered sand to the water, the occasional wave lapping at his feet and ankles. He started walking down the beach toward a distant cliff, every sense on high alert as he watched for the being that had been following him since the return.

****

A large group of them – different breeds of Elves, a few dwarves and hobbits – had gone to visit their otherworldly friends in an event that was sure to become an annual event. Hosted by a muscular human with the strangest head of dark hair Rabbit had ever seen – and that was saying something – and one tall, silver-haired man that made the hair on the back of his neck stand on end for no reason he could see, it had certainly been as... interesting... event.

The party – or bar-beh-cue, as they called it – lasted from early one morning late into the night.

Rabbit had been persuaded to go to that other world by Haldir, who had been convinced by Rumil, who had agreed with Elrond, who had been badgered into it by Glorfindel, who had learned about it from Erestor, who had been told about it by Blackbird, who dropped in for tea one day to get away from his own bunch of lunatics. The tiny mage, when asked how he found out about it, mumbled something about Misty getting into his teleportation-stone stash again.

And so the group – Rabbit, Frost, and a few others; Elrond, his sons, Rumil and his brothers; Glorfindel, Erestor, and their brood; Lindir, Fingolfin, and Nana Goose; Legolas and Gimli; and the irrepressable Rosie – were picked up by their White Palace friends and they all went to the party.

Their arrival – which had been preceded only by Misty's warning that he might bring “a few friends” – was accepted with good grace, especially when the Elves brought out the crate of wine they had brought as a party-crashing gift and the Court gave over a small chest of elegantly cut gems.

Indeed, once the surprise of having his casual party suddenly quadrupled in size wore off slightly, all Zack said was “I think we're going to need more grub” before going into the house, presumably to raid the freezer.

****

And ever since they got back, Rabbit had been unable to shake the feeling of someone – or something – following him.

The cold, prickly feeling that ran continuously up his back and neck was starting to drive him nuts.

It had been three days.

Enough was enough.

****

Rabbit eyed the shell full of foul-smelling liquid in open suspicion. He looked up at Frost, yellow-green eyes narrowed. “Are you certain this is the right brew?” he asked. The fumes were making him slightly dizzy.

Elrohir looked offended. “Of course it's the right one; I made it myself!”

Anything but offended, considering what had happened the last time Elrohir had concocted one of the sacred brews without his explicit guidance, Frost took a small sip from the shell in his own hand. A grimace as the taste matched the smell – a mix between rotting seaweed and damp woolen socks – almost perfectly. “It's the right one.” He smiled at his Sia. “Have no fear; soon we will uncover what spirit it is that haunts you.”

A low growl, then the contents of the shell held in one powerful hand were tossed back. A hard shake of the head, eyes tearing, as the brew hit sensitive tastebuds, then stillness once again. He looked to Frost, who was having a similar reaction to the foul brew. The two Plains Elves sat in silence, relaxing, feeling the fingers of the potion reach through them.

Both fell over backwards almost simultaneously, landing on pillows thoughtfully placed there by Elrohir.

****

Grey.

The world all around them was a mess of grey, fading in places to black, bleaching nearly white in others. It was the exact shape of the physical world; in fact they could see their own bodies painted in grey, lying at their feet. Only their own spirit-forms were in color; Frost's white, striped skin even more ghostly in the spirit realm.

Rabbit smiled grimly. “Time to hunt.”

Frost nodded with a small, predatory grin. He had a few things to say to the being that dared stalk his Sia. Assuming that Rabbit left enough of it to chastise.

Together, they left the shadow of the shamanic lodge, stepped out onto the false-grass.

They saw it right away; a splash of red in the grey.

It knew; they could see it stiffen as it realized that they had marked it. Then it took off, hurtling back into the midst of shadow-trees.

No use; its vibrant redness was visible to their eyes no matter how it hid.

At last they cornered it. The being had taken refuge in a woodpecker's abandoned hole, thinking it might have eluded them.

It was wrong.

Rabbit, blood boiling after the swift chase, barely paused as his powerful fingers dug into the wood of the tree and ripped the side right off, one hand racing in to catch the red beast before it could get away. A growl of satisfaction cut off abruptly in confusion as he stared at his new catch.

Divided nearly in two by the large hand, the red being struggled fiercely. Oddly enough, though, it didn't appear to be struggling to get away.

Rabbit dropped back down to the ground beside Frost and both large Elves stared as Rabbit's captive tried to wrap itself around the massive fist, almost purring.

“Uh?” was all Frost could say, staring at the affectionate being. He watched as his Sia opened his hand and the small – for it was; barely the size of a good ritual skirt – being shook itself before standing on the broad palm, purring quite noticeable now. The shaman eyed the creature. What was it? He was sure that he had never seen-

Wait.

“Sia, is that-?”

Both Plains Elves watched in bemusement as the little being made its way up Rabbit's arm to rub itself against the side of his face and neck, the purring only getting louder.

“I think we can assume it's friendly,” the shaman said, relaxing now that he knew his Sia wasn't in danger. He reached out one hand for the little one. “Come,” he coaxed. Watching as it froze, purr cutting off mid-rumble, its attention clearly focused on the approaching hand. “Come with m-OW!”

Frost jerked his hand back, staring from it to the tiny cape that sat quivering on his Sia's shoulder, hissing in his direction. There were little tiny scratches on his finger; one deep enough that a drop of blood welled up. He narrowed his eyes at it, reaching out again. “None of that now,” he said. “Come-”

The baby cape climbed up to the top of Rabbit's head, flattening itself there with an air of permanence, then hissed again, giving both Elves the impression that if it had a tongue it would be sticking out at them.

****

Vincent looked up as he heard the front door open. Brow furrowing slightly beneath the ever-present head-scarf, he stood. Leaving the children immersed in their coloring on the floor, he made his way toward the parlor doorway and the footsteps that were coming closer. Cid was supposed to be out at the airfield until later and he wasn't expecting company. His enhanced hearing picked up the barely-noticeable pad of two more pairs of feet and his hand instinctively sought his gun. If someone thought he or the children were easy prey with Cid gone, they were in for a surprise....

Then the first of the intruders rounded the doorway and Vincent found himself swept up into a bone-crushing hug almost before he could recognize the familiar form of one Zack Fair.

“Heya, Vincent,” the man said, at last releasing his crushing hold on the slender pseudo-vampire. “We need your help with something.”

“We?” Valentine asked, peering around his friend's large frame to take in the two other large people standing in the doorway. He vaguely remembered them as two of the otherworldly visitors at the last garden party. The white one was Frost, and the other one was... was... some cute, fuzzy animal. Ah, yes! Bunny! No, wait; that wasn't right...

His internal debate over the identity of his guests was abruptly derailed as his attention was seized by the sight of the tiny version of his own cape that seemed to be glued to Bunny's head. As he watched, it seemed to perk up, making a small chirp that made his own cape perk up and take notice.

“Oh, my,” said Vincent as his cape, the little one on Bunny's head, as well as the six other baby-capes that lived in the house – one clinging as always to little Aiden – seemed to strike up a conversation consisting of chirps, hisses, and growls.

“Yeah,” was all Zack said.