A/N: This story starts about ten years after the final episode of Animaniacs, and features a romance between Yakko and an OC! Now, the beginning may be a tad confusing, but it's intended to be that way, since the OC is going through a series of events that will be explained throughout the story. It also begins in the HUMAN/REAL WORLD, then migrates to the world of toons, so please stick with me, and I promise everything will make sense soon! :D

Warnings: Blood, and cartoon violence.

Disclaimer: I do not own Animaniacs. Anything related to real life places, people, and incidents is completely COINCIDENTAL. The only thing I claim is my OCs and the random plots I barf out. :D


Chapter One: Party Crasher, Cake Smasher.


Felina Ashbelle had always wondered how she would come to die. In fact, she assumed that if death was anything like being birthed, then she guessed that she would be going out violently and screaming the entire way. As a woman who claimed to be a professional thief, she always knew that she wouldn't be dying old, warm and snug in a bed surrounded by family, and it was obvious that with each job she pulled off, she was risking her life along with a the life of a special man, and the bouncing bundle of joy in her life. From the Government to private collector, to members of the famed Mafia, the people out for her blood were as colorful and unique as each item she had stolen. She was hunted and cursed by most, and admired by one, so it was easy for her to catch on that her time in this world was limited. Which was precisely why she was going to perform a final heist, and flee to another country with her four year old son, and nearly-one-year old daughter.

The young and naïve woman didn't calculate being murdered by an officer of the law in front of a crowd of onlookers.

She didn't expect to be shot point blank by a police officer only moments after she had surrendered herself, though she had to admit that she was lying through her teeth when she pretended that she was cornered. She had been shot in cold-blood, and was falling – and it wasn't into the dark abyss of death or into a state of unconsciousness. Falling in her book was literately just that; she was falling twenty stories towards the pavement below, bleeding profusely from the wound in the center of her stomach. If she didn't somehow manage to die from blood loss, then the fall would certainly get the best of her.

How did this come to happen?

The thief bitterly glared at her right wrist, where a golden bracelet marked with ancient Egyptian hieroglyphs gleamed in the moonlight, and she thought back to the beginning of her night, trying to review it to see just what she could have done differently to prevent her death. She supposed she could have picked a different outfit. She had clothed herself in a form fitting, ankle length dress, with a slit on the right side up to her thigh, and a neckline that was v-shaped, while the straps were long ribbons that were tied tightly behind her neck in a bow. From the waist up, the dress was white, and from below the waist, it was a deep, wine red, making up a very pretty article of clothing that she enjoyed wearing, since it allowed for her to move without anything constricting her legs. The charcoal black Mary Jane pumps she had selected to wear always made a soft clicking sound as she walked, and her dark, auburn hair that was shoulder length and fell in gentle waves and curls was easy to spot. The only logical thing she wore was a small pack that hung from a belt that was wrapped loosely around her hip, and inside held a variety of equipment she used to break in and out of buildings. It all melded together for somebody that was easy to spot and shoot at, and not to mention it had been the same outfit she wore for every job, becoming her 'costume' of sorts, and she should have known that it would caused red flags if she was spotted at any moment.

The fact that the museum that held the artifact Felina had her eye on was empty should have alerted her that something was off, but arrogance got the best of her. Having went through with the job instead of postponing it for another day proved to be her second mistake. She remembered everything so clearly, from the moment she left her make-shift home to the moment of her demise. Was this what it meant when they say that 'your life flashes before your eyes'? That you see every mistake that led to your death?

Closing her eyes, she thought of her children, waiting at the neighbor's house for her. What would happen to them if she died? They would probably be shipped off to an orphanage to spend the rest of their childhood wondering why their mother left them in such a place. They would be a social stigma too, no doubt. Word that their mother was a renowned thief would get around, making their lives even more miserable. Why hadn't she played it safe? She had gotten too cocky, and now her children would suffer for it! Memories leading up to the moment of her demise ran through her mind, and it took everything in her power to not sob loudly in misery.

Ca-chink!

The sound of the grapple leaving the sleek, silver gun broke the silence in the moonlit air, followed by a low 'Clack' as the pronged utensil wrapped itself around a a gargoyle. As the grapple gun began to whir, reeling in the wire rope that was now firmly connected to the stone statue, the outfit seemed rather senseless. In a flurry of red and white, as Felina swung herself up to land neatly on the head of the gargoyle, and with a flick of her wrist, the grapple unhooked itself and finished reeling itself in, and she placed the gun in a holster that also served as a garter belt on her right thigh. Reaching into the pouch that hung at her hip, she pulled out a pair of small binoculars, holding them up to her blue-silver eyes.

The building was styled to look similar to ancient Greek architect, splashed with touches of modern designs, the pure white, marble pillars clashing hideously (in her opinion) with the concrete slab walls. She moved her view to the colorful plastic tarp that was serving as a temporary sign reading 'Featuring: the Traveling Egyptian Exhibit. Monday – Friday' and below it, the usual metal sign twisted to read 'New York City Museum'. Snorting, she quickly scanned the security detail, and found herself frowning deeply. While the New York City Museum by itself wasn't full of many extraordinary valuables, the Egyptian exhibit had many priceless artifacts that were to be placed on constant surveillance. She couldn't see any signs of patrolling guards, or even the usual old man posted by the doors. She lowered the binoculars, her face full of puzzlement as she put them away, reaching for her grapple gun once more.

"Something's off..." She had muttered, but she went ahead and shot her gun, swinging over to land on the flat roof of the museum.

A gunshot brought her out of her memory, and she realized that she was just about to hit the ground, so with a surge of adrenaline, she whipped out her grapple gun, barely managing to use it to swing herself onto the rooftop across from the officer that was still shooting at her. Clamoring over the raised edge, she plopped heavily onto the brick building, heaving and panting as she holstered her gun, trying to draw air into her lungs. Her eyelids fluttered shut once more, as her sudden strength fled from her trembling body, but a pair of small, strong hands grabbed her by the biceps, yanking her to her feet, holding her torso precariously over the edge. Panicking, she grasped blindly for something to keep her from falling once more, and peeling her eyes open, she could see that it was a woman that was holding onto her. Gaping in horror and shock, her sanity instantly came into question as she observed the lady. The loss of blood had to be affecting her mind now!

This woman looked like her!

There were minor differences, for example, her hair color was a dark auburn streaked with natural lighter highlights, while the other woman's was a dark, burnt black, and hung as straight as pins around her face. While the criminal's skin was a healthy, light tan, this woman appeared to be a sickly pale color, tinted blue where it should have been a rosy pink. She wore a simple black t-shirt and jeans, appearing to be worn out and ripped in certain places, and a wide, toothy grin was on her face, revealing that her teeth had been filed down into razor sharp points. Her hands moved from the thief's biceps to her throat, grasping it in a painfully tight grip, brilliant, miasma violet eyes peering down at her victim.

"Hello." The woman rasped as her grip on Felina's throat became increasingly tighter, earning choked gargles from the dying girl, "I have been wanting to meet you for so long now... My name is... Well, unimportant right now."

Felina clawed at the hands chocking her, trying to pry herself free long enough to escape. She had to pull it together and make it home! The look-alike removed on of her hands briefly and bent over slightly to pick something up off the ground as the captured woman struggled to break free. A wailing cry made her cease her struggle, watching in horror as the pale woman lifted a baby wrapped tightly in a pink blanket, grinning as she offered the bundle to the dying thief. The pressure was slightly lifted from her throat, so she could take a large gasp of air and eagerly snatched her child into her arms. The red-faced baby quickly stifled it's crying once in the familiar arms of her mother, but the stranger wasn't done, lifting up a small boy by the backpack that was strapped to his back. His mess of black hair was a sight for sore eyes, and he stared at her with large, gooseberry green eyes that were watering as he began to cry when he saw his mother.

"What's important is that I give you these," She handed over the boy, watching as he clung to his mother's chest like a monkey, then planted her palms against her shoulders, "And bid you adieu."

All it took was a gentle push for Felina Ashbelle to fall, her balance thrown off by her loss of blood, and by the weight of her two children. Her eyes became wide with horror as she spiraled towards the ground, trying to maneuver her body so that it was her that took the force of the fall. How could anybody be so cruel! They were merely kids! How could they murder the entire family with a toothy grin, watching in amusement as they fell to their deaths?! By this time, a crowd had formed around the ally, all of them screaming and gasping as they saw that the woman falling to her death was now holding two children.

"Hold on to me tight." She ordered her son as she reached for her grapple gun, praying desperately that she could at least keep the little ones alive.

SPLAT!


Starduster...


Burbank was abuzz with evening activity, the brightly colored town rushing about to prepare itself for events that was the gossip of every toon's day. Auditions were to be held the next day, shortly after six-o'-clock in the evening for the places in the 'Princesses and Toons Extravaganza', one of many themed festivals that the Warner Brothers hosted to reel in funding for the studio lot. The previous year had been a Hawaiian and jungle themed, two-day party that had filled the streets with vendors and tourists from across the country – and had also left behind a rather large mess that took days to clean up, much to the aggravation to a certain CEO. This year, it was going to be more focused around live performances of popular fairy tale stories, along with the usual food and souvenir merchants. This year was certain to surpass all previous years! Everybody was rushing around to create everything that would be required for a perfect event, like props, sets, and bleachers for the audiences.

Secondly, was the newest edition to the studio lot; The Warner Museum, full of original films, props, mementos and a variety of other valuables to be placed on display... For the low price of ten dollars per ticket. Currently, it was undergoing a last minute remodel to add another room for a single item to be displayed alone and in an impregnable security lock down. There were many guesses as to what it would be, but between the rumors of it being the Mona Lisa, the Holy Grail, and a secret Atlantis artifact designed to flood the world, the unveiling of the object to the employees would have to wait until the construction was due to be done within a few days. The lingering question was in the air, and the anticipation was nearly choking some of the younger, more energetic toons, but work continued as smoothly as possible; there were many things to be completed!

And most importantly of all; it was Yakko Warner's birthday.

The dog-like toon hardly looked any different from his cartoon days, save for the fact that he had allowed for his body to grow a few inches taller, and gained a bit of muscle due to him no longer needed to have an appearance for the younger children that watched the show. He still chose to wearing his trademark, khaki pants, ignoring any need for shirts and shoes – they were so uncomfortable! The ten years since the ending of the show, had also done little to the hyper and destructive personalities of his close-knit family, but that was only natural. He couldn't quite imagine himself as anyone but the intelligent chatterbox, but if he tried, he could brew up a mental image of a serious and grumpy Yakko that he didn't particularly like.

Grinning, he watched as his two younger siblings zipped around the water tower, cleaning up the mess they called home, and prepared the final decorations for the outside party that was to be held for him within the next hour. Wakko still refused to wear pants no matter how many times Dot tried to convince him otherwise. As for the youngest Warner sibling, she had adjusted her skirt-only style into a fashionable, pink sundress, and decided to try her hand at fashion design. They were still waiting for results. Yakko, on the other hand still worked around the studio, doing occasional skits and odd and end jobs here and there. He was mainly paid to keep his family out of the nonexistent-hair of Plotz. Which he did... Sometimes.

Yawning and shaking his fur free of any worries and cares, he stood up, stretching as he did, "Well sibs, I'm going for a walk. I'll see you guys at the party, alright?"

The two younger Warners mumbled out distracted replies as he opened the shield-shaped door, allowing for fresh air to rush in for a few seconds before he shut it behind him. An orange hue had settled over Burbank as nighttime drew closer inch by inch, and from where he stood, he could see Dr. Scratchansniff preparing a table at the park, along with Slappy and Skippy. He sped down the ladder, eager to irritate the good ol' P-psychiatrist a bit before the party (though he was also hoping that Hello Nurse was around somewhere). Using his toon speed, he was there within a matter of seconds, startling the aging man into nearly dropping the over-sized-seven-layered-chocolatey-fudge-covered- cake that he had specifically requested for his birthday.

"Easy there, scooter." Slappy remarked as the cake was quickly slammed onto the table, giving Yakko a stern look, "I worked my tail off ordering that."

"You did a fantastic job buying it." He quipped back, only to be whacked upside the head with the old squirrel's purse, "Ow! What was that for?"

Without missing a beat, she barked back, "Your birthday, ya yutz." As she walked to the opposite end of the table to set up the tower of presents, she shook her head wistfully, "Honestly, kids these days are getting more forgetful than us old folks."

"Vell Yakko," He turned to face 'Scratchy' – as his family affectionately called him – who was wiping the sweat off of his brow with a handkerchief, "Are you excited eet's your birthday?"

He grinned slyly, "Yeah, but I'd be more excited if I saw some sexy ladies."

SPLAT!

Screaming in terror, Skippy scurried behind his aunt as bits of chocolate cake was sent flying in every direction thanks to some falling object landing in the dessert, making the older toons cover their faces as it got all over them. Silence and confusion mingled in the air as they all stared stupidly at what had fallen on the cake, and how high it must have been to shatter the table that had also broken its fall. Sand-colored fur could be seen on the arm that jutted out of the cake, donning a golden bracelet and the hand clutched a gun tightly, while the opposite arm clutched a screaming baby, hidden from view by a fuzzy pink blanket splashed with patches of red. Large, sandy ears with black tips twitched in the midst of tangle auburn hair, and the white accent of her muzzle stuck out of the waves and curls of her hair that was strewn across her face. A long, slightly bushy tail thumped slightly, and was accented by a black tip, with pale, black stripes fading into the plain, tan fur. From what they could see, it was a female, cat-like toon that landed on the cake, and she appeared to be out cold from the fall.

Along with the shrieking baby, there was a young boy, no older than five, clinging to her chest and was whimpering and crying pitifully. Unlike the cat, the boy human, his short black hair stuck out in every direction, appearing untamed, and he wore a leaf-green, collared t-shirt and light tan shorts. An oversized, black backpack looked similar to a turtle's shell on his back as he was curled into the woman's chest, and his eyes were screwed shut tightly.

They all glanced at Yakko, who promptly jumped into the Doctor's arms, "Why Scratchy! You got me exactly what I wanted! You really shouldn't have." He bounced over to the side of the table, lifting the locks of hair away from her face, revealing her face completely, "Is this supposed to be like Sleeping Beauty? Because I have no problems with kissing her!"

Slappy, on the other hand, was glaring at the sky with an irritated look, "She just had to land on the cake..."

The boy on the cat's chest flinched at the sound of the toons' voices, and he dared to crack his eyes open to reveal a stunning pair of gooseberry green eyes, "Mama?"

Startled by the word that came out of the child's mouth, the Warner took a step back, holding his chest in surprise, "Hot mama!" He swooped over, scooping the kid up in his arms, "She's single, right champ?"

Blinking, the little boy reached out and grabbed the cherry-red nose, yanking on it hard, "Is this real?"

Yakko made a weird honk that startled the boy, then balanced him on his hip so that he could rub his nose jokingly, "I wasn't sure, but I think you confirmed my suspicions." He then asked, "So what's your name?"

"Leo..." He muttered quietly, looking down at his mother with large, worried eyes, "Do you know what's wrong with my Mama?"

"Uhhhh..." Looking to the other toons, he hoped that one of them would speak up, but they shrugged as Scratchy attempted to pry the screaming baby free from the mother's death grip, "She's playing a game."

"But aunty shoved her from a roof!" 'Leo' cried, "And she looks weird!"

"Oh really? I thought she looked pretty sexaa-OW!" He nearly dropped the kid when Slappy stomped on his foot, but he quickly recovered, "She's very pretty."

"She is!" Yakko blinked in confusion. If she was pretty, then what was the problem? "But she looks like Sonic the Hedger, only she's more like a cat!"

"'Sonic the Hedger'?" Slappy chortled, "What sort of maroon has a name like that?"

Leo got flustered at this, "She doesn't look like Mama now!"

Scratchy fell over backwards when he finally got the baby free, and passed it over to the cranky squirrel, whose nephew pulled at the blanket so he could see it better, crying out, "It's a human too!"

"Zis iz not good..." The doctor bent back over the woman, examining her stomach closely, "She appears to have lost too much ink from zis little puncture wound."

"How is that possible?" Slappy rocked the baby slightly as she peered down at the quarter sized wound that was oozing what appeared to be dark red ink, "A toon should have healed something like that up in no time. She survived a fall from who-knows-where, but why ain't she getting back up?"

The little boy in Yakko's arm thought for a moment, unsure of what they were talking about, then squeaked quietly, "But Mama was like me when aunty pushed her... She's not a toon..."

Everybody except for the wailing baby fell silent once more, then Slappy shook her head, shoving the baby into Yakko's free arm, "Some birthday, huh? This gal sure knows how to crash a party."

"Nah, I think it just means things will be getting interesting around here. Just wait until ol' T.P. finds out about some humans and a not-so-toon babe falling out of nowhere!" The chatterbox grinned.

Then there was suddenly a loud, booming voice that made everyone jump, "WHAT HAPPENED HERE?!"

"Speak of the Devil..."


A/N: So Ta-da! I'm very sorry if nothing is very clear right now, but as I said before; it's intentional! Also, Dot and Wakko don't appear much in this chapter, but they will in the next! I promise!

I hope you all enjoyed the story; feel free to leave me a review to let me know how I'm doing, and how I can improve!