Hot In The City!

Summary: The authoress controls everything and writes a fanfiction about what is happening within this fanfiction.

Disclaimer: I hardly own anything here.

Chapter1:

The authoresses got bored so…

Legolas saw a sheet of paper lying on the ground and picked it up. "What is this?" he questioned, bringing it up to his face. And, as if that wasn't a poor enough choice, he began to read the sentence written down. Then, all at once, he felt as if he was being pulled into a vacuum before he was spit out in a place that seemed to be entirely made out of metal and glass.

There were screaming yellow monstrosities (aka: taxi cabs) flying up the streets, and, when they stopped, strange humans got out of them and others piled in. He couldn't tell whether they were getting eaten or not… And the people – there were more there than he'd ever seen in one place at any given time, save a festival, so much so that they appeared to be rivers of humanity.

Speaking of which, they happened to be dressed in the oddest assortment of garments imaginable. Not a proper cloak or boots to be seen anywhere. And don't even get him started on the women, who were scantily clad at best.

"Why on Arda am I here in this… wherever I am?" he called out, trying his best to figure out how he had gotten himself from home to a strange place such as this.

"Here? Why, Leggy, my dove, you are in New York City," came a voice from behind him, the amused smirk clear in the almost taunting tone.

Whirling around, he was faced with a midget… thing… wearing what looked to be some sort of leggings… or something with a sort of coat on top. A black shirt with lace around the neckline peeked out from beneath. He noticed as an afterthought that she also sported a pair of black flats with the slightest inch of heel.

"Are you in mourning?" he asked suddenly, eyeing the odd ensemble.

"Absolutely not, dearie. I just prefer to wear black… It's slimming." She shrugged.

Another woman, much taller this time, popped up behind her and said, "Yes indeed! So, we actually decided to bring Leggy-love here?"

"Yes, Kuma, we did. Don't you remember?" the smaller woman replied, turning around to look at her companion in consternation.

"…Absolutely not…"

"Why am I not surprised?" The other one sighed, shaking her head and causing her loose bun to wobble.

Legolas did a double-take at the other woman's outfit, attempting and failing to piece together the logic behind it. Kuma was wearing a pink asymmetrical ruffled skirt with black leggings (finally!), a purple corset top with bows down the front, a long white cloth scarf that wrapped around her shoulders and trailed behind her almost like a tail, white knee-high lace-up boots with clear platform soles and skinny heels that both added greatly to her height and gave the illusion that they were made of glass, a pink glove on her right hand and a black one on her left, and black… he assumed they were kitty ears… underneath a sort of puffy lavender-colored hat.

"Erm… What is that thing atop your head?" he asked tentatively.

"Oh, you mean this?" she chirped, taking it off and looking at it, "It's a page boy hat!"

"A page what?"

"A page boy!"

"…I am lost," he muttered. It was then that he noticed her long blonde pigtails had a strange assortment of dies running through them, but they were distracted by a shrill shriek from across the street before he could ask what had happened to her hair. They turned around to see a woman pointing at him, her face flushed with excitement and immediately his stomach dropped to his feet.

"LOOK! It's ORLANDO BLOOM!1111!1!" she cried out, catching everyone else's attention… mainly females and men of questionable… something.

"Alright, love. Ready to face the masses?" the short one, whose name was still not established as of yet, said as she took his arm and prepared to run.

"No!" he squeaked. If ever there was a time it could be said that Legolas, Prince of Mirkwood, was scared, that would have been it.

"Right, then! I shall take that as a yes!" Kuma practically shouted, returning her hat to her head and grabbing his other arm. Nodding to her companion, she smirked slightly and they proceeded to drag the confused elf through the streets, hoards of screeching fangirls and whatnot chasing after them.

After three blocks of running and a taxi cab to an apartment in upper Manhattan, the three made it to the women's living quarters, locking the door and all the windows behind them. "Okay, we can breathe now," Kuma said, the rest of her multi-colored hair sticking out in random directions from under her hat, "You know, I had no idea we could make it three blocks on foot."

Legolas had trouble figuring out how she could make it anywhere on foot while wearing those boots with heels he'd been told were called stilettos. They seemed awfully painful to walk in much less run.

"That's three more than usual," the smaller woman commented, almost confirming his suspicions, as she collapsed on the couch and immediately set to work on fixing her black hair, which had fallen out of her bun by now, "I could use a cup of tea."

Kuma nodded in agreement before looking over at the elf. "Me too," she agreed, "And we should really do something about this whole Orlando Bloom thing, wouldn't you say so?" She took a harder look at the confused blonde elf. "You really look nothing like him, dearie." With that, she pranced off to the kitchen, leaving him to glance around at the simple, yet tastefully decorated apartment.

"Miranda, what kind of tea do you want?"

"You know what I like," came the simple response.

"Oh, yeah… duh."

Legolas looked after the blonde – it had been explained to him on the taxi ride over that her hair had originally been that "boring and unsatisfactory" color before she "spiced it up" – woman curiously. "Kuma…" he said the word carefully and thoughtfully as if the peculiarity of the name had hit him just then, "Surely, that is a strange name for a woman such as yourself."

It took her a moment to realize he was talking to her, quickly appearing once again in the entryway between rooms. "Oh… me? Well, that isn't my real name," she explained, shrugging slightly, "You see… I'm just not all that fond of my real name, so Miranda and I shortened it to Kuma."

"The shortening of one's name should simply not be done," the elf stated seriously, ignoring the fact that she had disappeared again just as quickly as she'd appeared, "It is quite rude. Just as I shall not have you call me anything other than Legolas. That includes no Leggy, Leggy-love, Leggy-lass, or any of those other insensitive things you uttered in my direction on our way here. And furthermore –"

"We should totally give him a makeover!" Kuma yelled enthusiastically as she bounded back in from the kitchen, a wide grin on her face.

Miranda perked up instantly. "We totally should," she agreed, her brown eyes widening as the ideas started forming in her head.

"We should dress him in black leather!" they shouted in sync.

"No!" he quickly retorted, his eyes the size of dinner plates, "That is precisely what I was about to say you should not do."

"But it's us…" Miranda told him, "We never do what we're told to do."

"It's against our morals," Kuma added cheekily before turning to the smaller woman, "By the way… tea's up."

"Ooh, yay," Miranda replied as the two scurried into the kitchen.

Legolas plopped himself down on the couch and stared off into space for a while, trying not to attempt to even begin to fathom the possibilities of how a nonsense piece of paper could cause all this to happen to him, of all elves.

Moments later, the two women returned with large mugs of what he guessed was their tea, chattering to each other in volumes high above anything he had ever heard before. They continued laughing as they sat down next to the elf and continued to ignore his presence. "Will one of you two please explain to me why I am here?" he finally said to them.

The two females glanced at each other and smiled. "Well… we brought you here, my dear," Miranda slowly began to answer almost dazedly, staring into her half empty mug.

"It's because we've got the power!" Kuma enthused, smiling childishly, "And we're just awesome like that."

"So, you mean you two… brought me here… with a piece of paper?" Legolas received a nod in return. "And I am here all alone in this… place?"

"Yeah, pretty much," Kuma agreed before looking over at Miranda, who had by now finished the contents of her mug. The blonde woman continued to sip from hers as she waited for the tiny brown-eyed one to say something.

"Oh, but you won't be for long," Miranda told him, peeking up at the now-standing elf from over the rim of her empty mug. An almost evil cackling sound suddenly filled the room as the small one laughed at the thought. She sighed and sat back in her seat, grinning to herself. "You know…" she began kind of distractedly, "We should bring Haldir here."

"The marchwarden?" Legolas asked, his eyes narrowing slightly as if to question their sanity (what sanity?).

"Why, of course, my dove." Miranda nodded thoughtfully. "We totally should!"

"Already done." Kuma grinned, putting down the notebook in her hand. They heard a crash as someone toppled over into the umbrella stand by the door, catching everyone's attention, the coat rack falling on the tall newcomer as he backed up into the room.

"Oh, yay, he's here. Would you get the door, Leggy, dear?" the black-haired midget questioned hazily.

"I'm sure he would if Haldir wasn't already here." Kuma rolled her eyes as she saw the newest member of their party stand up straight and look around hurriedly as if trying to figure out how he had gotten from the borders of Lothlórien to such a strange room in unfamiliar territory.

"What is this and… why are you here?" Haldir demanded, his eyebrows twitching in confusion as he stared at the prince, "Where are we and… Legolas… who are they?" The marchwarden glanced at the two females who were practically sprawled out on the couch, laughing hysterically at what seemed to be nothing in particular, their hair still sticking up in different directions. "In truth, I did not think you had it in you."

"What? Ack, you know, sometimes I wonder where your head is, Marchwarden." Legolas wrinkled his nose, trying to erase the mental image Haldir had just planted in his mind. "These two are the cause of us being here in the first place and they simply refuse to send us home for whatever reason they could possibly have. I can not understand what they would gain from any of this, in the first place."

"Well, it must be good for a few laughs at most," Haldir offered, raising his Eyebrow of DOOM in their direction, seeing as the two women were drying tears from their watering eyes.

"We should dress him in black leather too," Kuma blurt out, starting a new round of hysteria between them.

"Oh, that's good. I can totally see that," Miranda laughed, "And I suppose we should get Glorfy here too?"

"Yes, yes!" the blonde woman practically squealed, the tears simply refusing to stop, "If I had my notebook right now, I would totally write this down… Oh, wait… I do. Here, let me get it." She leaned over to grab the spiral bound book sitting next to her and began to jot something down. "Oh, that's just perfect." She shook her head in amusement as she began to calm down, the pencil in her hand moving at an incredible pace. "Done." She clipped the mechanical pencil to the spiral binding and tossed the notebook aside.

And before another word could be said, there was another blonde elf standing in the room with them, seeming just as confused as the others. He looked around at them, completely skipping over the two smirking women and focusing on the other elves.

"Legolas? What are you doing here?" he asked.

"What are you doing here?" the prince returned.

"No, I asked you first. What are you doing here?"

"But I am a prince and I asked you what you are doing here, thus you must respond."

Glorfindel once again noticed Haldir and said, "Marchwarden? What are you doing here?"

"What are you doing here?"

"I am the Balrog Slayer and you will answer me! What are you doing here?"

"I am a marchwarden. What are you doing here?"

"I am older than you! Answer the bloody question!"

"At least, I did not die!"

There was a moment of silence and then Glorfindel said, "That was low…"

Legolas nodded fervently in agreement.

"Alright, girlies," Kuma broke in, "All of you are here because –"

"– we brought you here," the midget finished, looking incredibly smug.

The elves all looked at each other before Haldir gathered up the courage to ask the most important question anyone will ever ask in the history of Man and Elf-kind.

"Why?"

"Because. You are here to serve our own evil purposes… and because we could. So, there," Miranda said, crossing her arms over her chest as if that settled it.

"And we were bored," Kuma chimed in, looking so very pleased with herself.

"So… where are we? And, Manwë, what on Arda is that?" Glorfindel shrieked (yes, shrieked), pointing out the window at the little taxi cabs on the street far below.

"That would be a taxi," Kuma said slowly and patiently as if explaining to a stubborn child. Which he was… at that time…

"And… what does it do?" The elf who had fearlessly slayed a balrog in order to protect his home was positively petrified, his knees knocking against each other.

"It is a form of public transportation," Miranda said, sitting up onto her knees, "People get in, tell the driver where they need to be driven to, and then pay the person once they arrive based on how far they needed to go, then get out like that person is doing down there. Do you see?"

"What? You mean the man with a large and unsightly mole on his chin?"

Miranda gave him a strange look.

"Elves have incredibly good vision." He shrugged.

"That's it. Next time we do something, I am writing down that my vision is 20/15," she grumbled, flopping backwards with a disgruntled air.

"Oh, yeah… I forgot. You asked where we are. We're in our apartment, you silly goose!" Kuma said happily.

"And that would be where?" Haldir asked, looking peeved.

"In the great and fantabulous New York City!"

"You are way too hyper," Miranda sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose.

"So… this place is in New York City?" the marchwarden quizzed, receiving simultaneous nods from the women in return, "This place right here… as in this little room we are standing in right now."

"Yes," they said, nodding their heads in agreement.

"This… building… if you can call it that… is in New York City?"

"Yes."

"…Are you sure? It looks awfully… large… You could fit three cities here. How far does it extend?"

"Oh… a few something-or-other blocks… I have no idea and neither does Kuma," Miranda answered.

Haldir looked incredibly confused and was just about to ask another question when Miranda said, "No more questions! I am in a tea-induced haze at the moment and nothing I will say shall make sense from here until several hours hence." And, with that, the women tipped their heads back against the couch and sighed, their gazes becoming unfocused.

The three elf lords shared a look between them and settled down in various other items of furniture, each gazing intently out the window.

"Say!" Glorfindel gasped, pointing into the sky, "What is that large, silver bird-thing? I have never seen anything move so fast!"

Kuma let her head fall loosely forward and squinted before saying, "That is an airplane, dove."

"'Ey! Tha's my word," Miranda slurred, blinking fuzzily at her friend.

Three blonde heads swiveled to look at her over their shoulders. "What on Arda was that supposed to be?" Legolas asked, looking shocked, "Is she drunk?"

"On tea, yes," Kuma said, smiling.

"…How can you be drunk on –?" Haldir began, but was cut off once again by Kuma.

"If you are Miranda or myself, then you can most definitely become drunk on tea and high on air. Or life… It depends."

The elves were about to say something before glancing at each other and quickly decided against it. Nope, they would much rather keep the amount of sanity they had miraculously managed to retain in their few moments in this strange place. A few seconds of silence passed between them until a horn honked somewhere below shortly followed by a series of words they would rather not repeat in any company. Kuma started giggling to herself slightly, setting off Miranda.

"What?" the small woman asked curiously.

"Bad things come in threes," came the reply, "Us, ourselves, and we."

"Oh, yeah." Miranda nodded in agreement before the two rested their heads on the back of the couch yet but once again.

The elf lords across the room grunted in agreement, ignoring the bad use of grammar. That would definitely explain a lot. After several minutes of contemplating and eerie silence, Haldir finally stood and sighed. When the two females didn't seem to react, he dared a step closer and sighed a bit louder this time. Still nothing. Getting frustrated with their lack of response, he cleared his throat. "Ahem, you two… females," he stated, getting the slightest of slight eye rolls in return.

"What?" they muttered in sync, obviously not ready to be bothered just yet.

"You shall send me home right now or else I shall have to find my way back myself, which you know I will do," the marchwarden informed them, trying his best to sound more authoritative than he felt.

"Tch. Yeah, right. Like you'd ever dare wander these streets on your own," Kuma commented, obviously not thinking he had it in him.

"Well… since you leave me no choice, I will just have to leave and get another maybe more sane person to help me," he insisted.

Legolas stood quickly, taking that as his chance to escape as well. "Wait… I shall come with you."

"Very well, if you must," came the reply and Haldir turned back to the two women, who each had an eyebrow raised in disbelief, "Good day to you."

"Good luck getting anyone to understand you," Miranda muttered, though he just caught what she said.

"And what is that supposed to mean? You can understand us perfectly well and us you. Or are we slowly following in your footsteps to insanity?" Haldir's reply sounded rather offensive.

"Well, my dove, it is us you are talking about," the short brown-eyed one responded simply, ignoring the insensitivity of his rather annoying comment, "No one else will be able to understand a word you utter and vice versa."

He turned his back to them with a small harrumph, trying to find the door. When he had it in his sight, the marchwarden began to stride toward it until a hand latched firmly onto the back of his cloak, stopping him. Turning back, he ignored Legolas, who was hovering practically right next to him and trying to imitate his way of looking in charge.

Kuma had taken hold of his cloak and was looking up at him seriously. "You know, Miranda, we should probably go with them," she stated, taking a good long hard look at his face, "I can definitely see where this is going."

Miranda nodded as she pulled herself off the couch and approached them. "Oh, fine. What about you, Glorfy?"

Glorfindel, taking a moment to realize it was he she was talking about, raised an eyebrow at them. "Pardon?" he questioned sternly, standing up and taking an almost threatening step in their direction.

"Oh, sorry, dove…" Miranda shook her head, remembering the Balrog Slayer would probably attempt to murder her before giving in to her cutesy nickname for him, "Are you going to join us on this soon to be very short mission? Or would you rather wait here for us to return rather than troubling yourself by getting up only to walk outside and back in again?"

"I would rather stay here, where it is safe," was all they got in return as he sat himself back down again, crossing his arms stubbornly.

"Alright, we'll be back for you in a bit," the small woman shrugged and they headed out the door, closing it securely behind them, "Kuma, we are so taking the elevator."

"But you hate them," Kuma reminded her in confusion as they neared the metal doors down the hall.

"Yes, but I'd rather not walk down all those flights of stairs. Oh, why didn't we get an apartment closer to ground level?"

"I am sure you will soon remember why," Kuma stated thoughtfully before Haldir cut in as they stopped in front of it and Miranda pressed the button to call the elevator to their floor.

"Are you sure you two would not rather save us all the trouble and send us home the way we came instead of wandering around this New York City for who-knows-how-long?" the marchwarden quizzed hopefully, Legolas nodding in agreement.

"Oh, trust us. We will not be getting very far what with the whole Orlando Bloom incident from before," Miranda explained to the confused elf lords just as the elevator arrived and the metal doors opened for them, "They're probably still plaguing the streets below just waiting for Leggy, here, to step outside again." She gestured towards the irritated prince.

"Are you sure you're not reconsidering the black leather?" Kuma persisted, glancing over at Legolas, who simply glared at her in return as they stepped into the small metal room. Kuma pressed the button for the main lobby as Miranda folded her hands together and began muttering something under her breath.

"Erm… What on Arda is she doing?" Legolas stated, shaking his head and raising an eyebrow at them.

"Shut up and leave me alone," Miranda quickly responded before going back to her mumbling, praying the elevator wouldn't get stuck and trap them in there for the rest of eternity… or however long it took them to fix it. And so, for the rest of the way down to the lobby, it was silent all but for the 'la, la, la'-ing of a certain hyper blonde woman.

Miranda was the first one out, practically thanking the heavens she had made it alive and in tact, while the others trailed slowly behind her. The moment they walked outside, Haldir glanced around in total confusion. "It looks so much bigger from down here," he deadpanned, trying though failing not to sound intimidated, "Whoever built this must have been compensating for something."

"Oh, shoost, you." Kuma smacked him in the arm, hoping to silence the annoying elf lord. Just then, another shrill shriek could be heard from across the street.

"EEEEE! It's Craig Parker!1!1!1!" the woman screeched and Miranda immediately stepped in front of Haldir, who was more confused than he had been since he'd gotten to this strange place, while Legolas did his best to hide behind the fearsome marchwarden.

"If any of you so much as try to lay a hand on my elf, I will tear you limb from pretty limb," a loud and intimidating voice coming from such a small and dainty person seemed to keep them at bay for a moment as the slowly growing crowd decided what to do. Kuma produced and unfolded a large sign from her pocket reading 'Beware of midgets' and proceeded to hold it up in front of her for all to see.

Legolas peered out from behind Haldir and gave her a questioning glance. "What is that supposed to mean?" he quizzed, choosing to ignore the fact she had seemed to produce it from nowhere. Rolling her golden eyes, the blonde female shook her head and removed a black marker from her other pocket, tactfully drawing an arrow on the sign pointing to her companion. "Enough said."

"I bet you are definitely reconsidering the black leather now, aren't you?" Miranda implied, staring down anyone who might have been brave enough to approach, "For, if I weren't here, they would have torn you apart until they got close enough to realize who you really were… or in this case aren't."

"Why don't we just go back inside now before anyone has to get hurt?" Kuma suggested, "Because, in my opinion, if you two attempt to make a run for it, I'm tripping Leggy-love and scampering away as fast and as far away as my legs can carry me… before I collapse, of course."

"It is nice to know someone cares," the prince sulked, his tone dripping with sarcasm as they started to back away into the building again.

"Gee, Leggy, the way you say that suggests a sarcastic air in your tone, implying our efforts here to keep you safe are all in vain," Kuma retorted smugly and he quickly decided to close his mouth and remain silent for the rest of their journey back up to the apartment, "So… cool or tough? Which image would you prefer?"

The elf lords grimaced in return, trying to figure in their heads which was worse: being forced from their normal preferred ensemble into something foreign and odd, for lack of a better word, or a hoard of screaming girls.

(A/N) Konnichiwa! It is your funderful authoress Kuma-chan here with her first ever fanfiction! I do hope you enjoy it. ^_^

Just a quick note: The first sentence in italics is the first section of the sentence written on the paper Legolas picked up. To clarify in case of confusion, the fanfiction you are reading now is essentially the one Kuma is writing in the story.

Until next time… Bai–bai! *bows politely, waves, and trots off*