Sand Storm

By Elektra

Ratings: T for drinking

Disclaimer: I write only for fun not profit. The characters Yamcha and Piccolo belong to Funimation, Ororo and Betsy belong to Marvel, and Frodo belongs to J.R.R. Tolkien.

Summary: A human, a Namekian, two mutants and a hobbit meet are in a bar…I know, I know, very weird crossover.

Chapter 1

"Waitress! Another round for me and my friend," the handsome scar-faced man requested. A buxom blonde beauty in what looked like a St. Paulie girl's outfit sauntered by with tray in hand.

"Saki for you and water for your friend?" she asked in a vague English accent.

"Yeah, that'll work sweetheart."

"Lorna."

"Lorna, it is. I'm Yamcha and this is my friend, Piccolo."

"I'll be right back with those drinks, Yamcha." She gave him a wink, and headed for the bar.

"Do you think we'll be leaving soon?" Growled his rather large, green-skinned companion.

An unattractive demon wench in a too short skirt that revealed pasty liver-spotted legs was harassing the Namek. He managed to shoo her away and shuddered as the bald, horned creature tottered off on spiky heels.

"Your loss," she croaked, swinging her scraggly spade tipped tail in rejection. "Demon King my arse . . ."

"Bwah-ha-ha-ha!" Yamcha clutched at his belly.

"Shut up, fool!"

Yamcha wiped a tear from his eye. "You sure do have a way with the ladies. So how do I get some of that action, 'Demon King'?"

Piccolo responded with a growl and a raised fist. Fortunately for the desert bandit, the ample blonde returned with the drinks. Yamcha paid her and gave her a generous tip. Lorna the waitress looked pleased and Yamcha decided he might stand a chance with her.

"I wouldn't get too friendly. Once this storm lets up we need to leave this place or else be trapped here, indefinitely." Piccolo warned.

"I wouldn't mind being trapped with her," he replied, tilting his head in the waitress' direction.

"Many of these patrons had the same thought." They both surveyed the motley group gathered in the tavern. Yamcha spied Lorna giving another patron a glimpse of her cleavage and realized his namekian friend was right.

With a sigh he had to agree. "You're right man. We gotta leave the first chance we get."

"That may not be as easy as you think," a child sized man with rather large eyes and pointed ears interrupted. Both Piccolo and Yamcha eyed him wearily.

"What do you mean?" Piccolo demanded. The little man shifted uncomfortable under the dark green gaze.

"Well, it's just that I tried to leave when the storm let up once and, well . . .I didn't end up from where or when I came."

This time Yamcha piped in. "You mean, you ended up in a different dimension?"

"I don't know what a dimension is, but if it is some level of hell then that's where I was!"

As impossible as it seemed, his eyes widened even larger as he explained, "there were so many people! And metal boxes that moved around like horse-less carriages. They spat out noxious fumes like angry dragons and bellowed loudly like monstrous geese! Lights flashed everywhere making my head spin. It was horrible I tell you!" His eyes began to water as his body started to shake.

"Hey, don't . . .it's okay. Do you want a drink? Why don't you join us," Yamcha offered.

"Are . . .are you sure? I wouldn't want to impose," he replied politely but longingly. The small man was beginning to calm down.

"No problem. I'm Yamcha, and this is Piccolo."

"Pleased to meet you," he answered with a small bow. "My name is Frodo Baggins. Do you mind if I retrieve my things from my table?"

"Go ahead, we'll still be here. What were you drinking?"

"Tea, and thanks." Frodo wandered off.

"Huh. What's his deal? Did you see how hairy his feet were? Weird!"

"I noticed he only had nine fingers. He carries a dagger, so he may have lost a finger in a fight. He doesn't look like the fighting type though." Piccolo mused.

"Curiouser and curiouser . . ."

"What?"

"Oh, nothing. I don't even know why I said that. Look, here he comes."

After setting his things down, Frodo pulled up a seat and smiled at them. "Yamcha, you look like a human to me, but if you don't mind my asking, what manner of man are you Piccolo?"

"I am not a man like you or Yamcha. My people come from a world called Namek that has 3 suns and never sees night."

Frodo's eye widened. He digested this for a moment, the inquired, "You say your people come from this Namek? How did you come to be here?"

"Although my people come from the planet Namek, I was born on the planet Earth and lived there all of my life. As to your next question, I think we arrived in a similar fashion as yourself."

Another barmaid came by to take their orders. This one had silver blonde hair, a lithe figure and a pair of white wings sprouting from her shoulder blades. "My name is Muriel. What may I bring you gentlemen?"

Piccolo had another water, Frodo had tea and Yamcha had yet another bottle of sake. He didn't flirt as much with this barmaid.

At that moment, the door opened and two more people stepped in tavern. Sand rushed in before the two were able to close the door. The taller of the two removed her cloak and revealed cascading white hair and a smooth brown complexion. The other had purple hair, olive skin and Asian features. The women were striking and managed to stand out in a place that served all manners of creatures.

"Dude, I think we just caught a break!"

"What makes you think so?"

"Check them out. They have to be from our time, look at what they're wearing. And they're hot! I'm going to ask them over."

Yamcha made his way to the bar where the two women where talking to the innkeeper. Piccolo rolled his eyes and turned his attention back to Frodo. After a few minutes Yamcha and the two women joined them.

"Ororo, Betsy, this is my friend Piccolo and our newly met acquaintance, Frodo Baggins. Guys, this is Ororo Monroe and Elizabeth Braddock."

Piccolo acknowledged them both and Frodo stuck out his hand in a friendly gesture. Yamcha pulled up two chairs for the new arrivals and flagged a barmaid down. Ororo ordered a cup of tea and Betsy ordered a greyhound. Piccolo had to agree with Yamcha that the women were beautiful, especially Ororo. She had the clearest blue eyes he had ever seen.

Ororo and Betsy were sizing the men up too. Betsy thought both men where attractive even though one of them was green. Ororo was particularly interested in the Namek. He was intriguing. They both realized at the same time that Frodo was a man, not a boy. Fortunately, neither had said anything embarrassing.

"So, how is it that you ladies came here with minimal wind damage? I felt as if I were carrying my weight in sand when I arrived," inquired Frodo.

"Hey, yeah. It took at least two baths before I got all of it off. Both of you barely look mussed."

"I have the ability to manipulate natural weather patterns," Ororo replied. "This storm is somewhat . . . supernatural in nature. Still, I had just enough control to create a shield of air against its wind."

She demonstrated her power by forming a tiny thundercloud that rained in her teacup. Both Piccolo and Yamcha sense that much skill was involved in being able to create such a thing.

"A tempest in a tea cup!" exclaimed the half-ling. Both Yamcha and Betsy chuckled at that.

"Since we're all stuck here for the time being why don't we get to know one another?" requested Yamcha. The others agreed and they all told their stories. None of them noticed a pair of eyes a black as a moonless night staring at them from another table.

TBC