I stayed up for a fair chunk of time last night to get this written down, and I hope you guys like it. I have to make an explanation about the ending, because it's a little up to interpretation. You can either say that '7 belonging to 9' is symbolic in reference to their love, or you can say that they were being a bit more... passionate than first intended. It's your choice - whenever I imagined 9 and 7 in this universe I imagined that in this evening they would be each other's 'firsts'.. because my head is very enthusiastic about this pairing and imagines they don't really have any inhibitions around each other when they realise their love is mutual. Last thing: DON'T OWN ANYTHING, NOT AWESOME ENOUGH TO.

Quite simply, this is The Lion King, in the scenes leading up to and the 'Can You Feel the Love Tonight' sequence. Here you have 9 as the young 'prince' born to coven leader 2. Here it mostly follows to plot of the film, except instead of the Pridelands it's the Emptiness, and the Elephant Graveyard is the Factory, only here the Factory is 1's secretish lair. In this 'universe' Machines are like lower animals on the food chain, but instead of eating them like lions do they hunt them mostly for their skins and their oil (blood), used for necessary purposes.

Here 6 and 8 are replacing Timon and Pumbaa. Basically they are runaway stitchpunks from different covens. Runaways are typically the lowest subordinates of any clan - 8 wasn't exactly the brightest stitchpunk, and poor little 6 just didn't fit in. They rescue stitchpup 9 from a Machine attack, and took him to their home - a place where there is plantlife, and even an extremely rare water pool. Because vagabonds don't belong to any coven nobody really kicks up a fuss if they're needed to give their 'supplies' to desperate groups.

I'm sure that I was going to say a lot more cause I practically have an entire timeline for 9 and Lion King but... nope, don't think I have anything else to say, so happy reading!

She didn't like doing this to another being, but the coven was desperate. They needed supplies and lately, they had only been able to get them from Machines and subordinates. It wasn't like she was going to kill him; she only needed some oil and perhaps some wires and gears. If she thought of him as a Machine it was much easier to take what she needed. So, for those reasons, it was easy to chase him as he ran through the undergrowth, screaming for help. After a time he was cornered, his leg tangled in protruding debris while his friend pointlessly tugged on his arm to pull him out. Used to this, she stalked forward, blade held high, her helmet over her face.

Just as she was about to make the first swing, a shadow fell upon her. A new opponent appeared in front of her; also helmeted; also armed. Immediately the figure began to fight, his roaring war cry betraying his identity as male. It wasn't long before she realised they were evenly matched.

As they scuffled in the clearing, she began to notice familiar things about her adversary. The way he seemed to carry himself indicated that he was hiding his nobility, as if he was trying to act like a common stitchpunk – he was not always a vagabond subordinate, like her prey. She quickly parried his thrusts (his attacks were also familiar, she had parried those exact same thrusts before, but from whom?) before deftly disarming the male. He reached forward to take her neck (another mistake she knew well) – but she was too quick for him this time. Before either of them knew what was going on, she had him on the ground, her knees forcing his elbows into the ground. Both of their helmets had fallen off from the quick pace of this movement. Suddenly, the expression on the male's face changed – what had been defensive rage became confusion, then recognition.

"...7?" he asked. But the voice she heard... couldn't possibly belong to him. He was dead.

Wasn't he?

"Who are you?" she snapped accusingly – though the way she scrambled away from him surely did not look at all threatening. He looked at her, really looked at her, pleading for her to recognise him.

"7... 7, it's me. It's 9." he replied, giving his zipper a light tug. He always did that when he was young.

7 hadn't seen 9 in years. The last time they were together it was probably when they were walking in a dark field with 5 and his father, after they had nearly been taken by the Machines. And shortly before that incident they had been playfully sparring, where 9 had gone to grab her neck and she had pinned him to the ground and he had tugged on his zipper in that way that this male was doing right now – it was him!

"OH MY CREATOR!" was the first thing she cried, followed by a series of happy squeals. He responded similarly jumping up and nearly crushing her with his strong embrace. She blinked in her ecstasy, wondering if he ever smelt that good to her when she was younger. As they took each other in happily, she noticed that he had grown attractive in the years they had been separated – what did he think of her, now she was an adult?

"WHAT'S GOING ON HERE?" somebody yelled suddenly, making the two friends become quiet. 9 looked towards the small striped stitchpunk, as if it were unusual for him to be so verbal. She waited patiently for 9 to introduce her, as she had been taught growing up. Not that etiquette mattered – 9 was alive.

"Well, 6, this is 7 – my girl – friend! She is my friend! We're best friends." he said, smiling in that goofy way he always had. She hadn't noticed his mistake. Apparently the striped one hadn't either.

"But... she wants to kill 8." he said flatly. The big stitchpunk, obviously 8, joined the introductions.

"Ain't you gonna introduce me?" he rumbled. 9 obliged quickly.

"8, this is my friend 7. 7 – This is 8 and 6." he replied, gesturing to the appropriate person as he introduced them all. 7, looking at 9, marvelled over the simple fact that he still existed.

"Everyone's going to be so excited to hear you're ok! Especially your mother – imagine what she'd say if she knew!" she exclaimed, touching his arm. 9's expression darkened a little.

"No. Nobody needs to know I'm here." he replied firmly. 7 became confused.

"But... what about the coven? 2 is gone, now – that means you're the rightful leader! The king!" she said. Please. Come home with me.

"That isn't right. He's not a king!" 6 interjected. "...Are you?" he asked 9.

"You're actually a king? Really, a coven leader?" 8 asked excitedly. To both these questions, 9 shook his head. This affirmation made it clear to 7 that the once proud prince had changed. Why didn't he want to be king anymore? Stop it – she thought. It's been years. Of course he's changed. With that thought she remembered why this occasion was so momentous.

She remembered hiding behind her mother's leg, weeping for the loss of their previous leader, the wise and kind 2. That had been bad enough. But to hear of the loss of his son, her best friend 9 – it had been too much back then. It was almost too much now. She walked away from the group, not sure where to look. How was she going to deal with her friend, now she knew that he was alive?

"What's wrong, 7?" 9 asked, putting his hand on her shoulder. She didn't look him in the eye.

"It's like... well. You were dead. We all thought you were dead. It's what 1 told us. And now you're back from the grave," she tried to explain. Releasing inhibitions, she turned into his arms, embracing him. He returned her show of unfamiliar affection. Suddenly she wanted to be away from this place. More specifically, she wanted to be alone with 9. As if in a dream, they floated off together, 9 brushing off protests sent his way by his friends.

He led her in silence to a beautiful oasis. Here the Emptiness finished and Nature began, where rocks formed together to form a small waterfall, and the water pooled together in a small lake-like formation. Giving her a sly look, he dived within its depths, disappearing beneath the rippling surface. She wondered why he seemed to want to play with her, rather than talk – but before she herself could say anything, she found herself being yanked into the water. She fell in with a squeal, unused to diving into water pools like this. 7 crawled out before she drowned while 9 laughed at her from a rock – though he did not continue when she pulled him back in while she ascended the bank. Doing what she did best, she began to run away. She hoped he would follow her.

Chase her he did, trying to run around her and catch her as she dodged his long reaching arms. She was too quick for him, her canvas skin slipping from his embrace. Her tribal clothes sent droplets flicking everywhere as she span around, searching for him. He was nowhere to be seen. She backed up behind her, not knowing that the natural undergrowth would give way to a steep slope. Suddenly he charged at her playfully, pretending to attack her – but instead tripping over his own feet and sending them both rolling down the slope. The world was a haze of colour and rapid heartbeats.

When they finally stopped she found herself with her back on the ground, half of his body caressing hers by complete accident. He began to back away, his face apologetic. Suddenly, though, it occurred to her what had been on her mind since she had pinned him to the ground with her trademark straddle. She had been a goner once he gave that goofy smile. And he gave it now... that smile was for her. Somehow, she would make sure she owned that smile. And she did.

She kissed him from where she was, not caring what he thought, not caring what anyone else thought. Her mind was blank with nothing but the way that goofy smile became wider. From then that one kiss became two, then three.

From then on, no matter what anyone else thought, she was his. They had certainly proved that, in the evening on the soft Nature floor.