Over the Hedge belongs to Michael Fry and T. Lewis and Dreamworks Animation. And yes, the title is from Owl City.


This should not have happened.

They had come to rescue Heather, who'd been taken captive some time ago after a heist by the Sniffer.

Hammy's only mistake had been a slip, not being able to see the hidden lubricant trap amongst the pavement during the escape from VermTech HQ. That mistake gave the Sniffer just enough time to take aim and shoot his gun because if he could not have his vermin alive than dead was the next best thing.

Neither the squirrel nor human anticipated RJ to take the hit instead, much less in the chest.

The young squirrel couldn't remember much after that, aside from catching RJ and desperately trying to get him out of here as fast as possible along with Heather's help—oh wait, there'd been a piercing scream from behind them but RJ's injury had been top priority at the time. Besides, anything to get that nasty Sniffer off their backs.

Now here Hammy stood, an observer to a scene to which he felt like an intruder.

Laying supine atop a white paper towel-covered stump long enough to accommodate his body, RJ remained still as stone, face blank and eyes closed and chest barely rising or falling from breathing. White bandages coated nearly half of his torso with red from the blood staining them.

Seated next to him on the edge were Ozzie and Heather, both possums gazing down upon him with heart-stricken sorrow. The elder possum had an arm wrapped around his daughter, who'd showed amazing resilience to the situation despite her own turbulent emotions. She loved RJ (that raccoon who had become a second mother to her), but the adolescent knew better than to give into despair so quickly.

Especially since her father needed the comfort more than her.

So far the surgery to remove the bullet, while nerve-wracking, proved successful. Unfortunately, RJ had yet to awaken; needless to say, the family lay at a loss at what to do besides just wait and pray.

Pray that their raccoon would live to see another day.

And of them all, Ozzie was praying the hardest.

Now Hammy possessed plenty of flaws (he'd be the first to admit that), his hyperactivity the most notable. That did not mean he completely lacked maturity. He knew when to take responsibility for his actions and when to step aside to let others handle their own problems.

Because what happened to RJ—this living nightmare Ozzie and Heather had to live through as a result...Hammy would gladly take the blame. His slip-up caused this whole travesty after all.

"Hamilton."

When Hammy jolted out of his thoughts and shot his head up, Ozzie was gesturing him to come sit down beside him. To the tree-climber's surprise, Heather was nowhere in sight. Whether she left to be by herself or find something to distract herself as a means of coping was anyone's guess.

All Hammy knew was that Ozzie had something to say to him. No doubt something serious.

Nervously approaching his elder the same way a child would a displeased teacher, the scarlet youth took a seat on the stump, his bushy tail twitching from anxiety. His emerald eyes could not manage to tear away their gaze from RJ; up close, the raccoon appeared even more lifeless, disturbing to see from someone so usually full of life and vigor.

Hammy felt like crying right then and there.

"It's alright, you know."

The squirrel involuntarily flinched at the possum's soft tone. Somehow it scared him more than a yell or reprimand would have.

"I know it was just an accident. We all make mistakes, regardless of age."

We all make mistakes? Well, we don't all make mistakes that end up with your family getting hurt, Hammy retorted in his mind. Perhaps he was overreacting (more so than usual) but could one really blame him in these circumstances?

"B-but it's my fault I tripped," he spoke for the first time since this tragedy began. "If I hadn't, RJ wouldn't had ta save me and he'd be goin' around right now telling us how proud he was of us for savin' Heather and not all quiet and still and—"

A strong arm wrapping around him in a firm yet gentle squeeze cut his agitated apology off. Ozzie inwardly chuckled at the squirrel's wide-eyed stupor; even without his usual zest, Hammy retained his tendency to ramble nonstop, a tendency the possum knew meant to help the young mammal cope.

"Hammy, listen to me. The Sniffer had anticipated our weaknesses and abused them to his full advantage, just like any fiend would. If RJ hadn't intervened, this"—Ozzie gestured a hand to said raccoon—"could've been you. How different would things have been for us then?"

No answer came. Hammy realized Ozzie's point and in doing so remembered everyone's luck in having someone as sacrificial as RJ...yet he could not find the words to say thanks, let alone to whom.

RJ for being who he was.

Or Ozzie for being who he was.

Perhaps there lay no need to.

Ozzie understood, he always understood. And so would RJ.

Tearing his eyes away from the marsupial, the tree-climber wrapped his bushy tail around himself and closed his eyes in thought, Ozzie's warmth adding to the younger mammal's body heat.

Hammy smiled at the comforting gesture.

Believe it or not, he had been among the first besides Heather to discover RJ and Ozzie's relationship—and that resulted from being at the wrong place at the wrong time.


Scurry here, scurry there.

Hmph, he swore he'd put that can of cheese spread somewhere.

But where, where, where?

Scurry over there, scurry over here.

The squirrel suddenly halted at voices. Familiar voices.

"Mmm, mmm, oh geez Ozzie, that's good."

Hammy perked an ear in interest and curiosity. That sounded like RJ, and wow, judging by his pleasured tone, he sounded pretty happy, too! Maybe he and Ozzie were sharing something yummy! They'd probably even share if asked nicely.

If only he knew.

Licking his chompers at the rampant edible possibilities, Hammy speedily followed the voices. As he neared, he became puzzled at the exchanged words he overheard: words about heat, tongues, cream, muscles, and fur. Just what sort of food were those two eating?

Eventually Hammy reached the edge of a clearing, from where the voices emanated clear as day; the moment he poked his head through a bush he withdrew almost immediately, eyes huge from surprise and disbelief.

He had caught Ozzie and RJ in the middle of a passionate make-out session, the opossum pinning the raccoon to a tree by the shoulders and trailing his smooth naked tail around RJ's pelvis while the masked forager ran his rough hands up and down the older mammal's sinewy body, both of them moaning explicitly from each other's actions.

Ozzie pulled back, smirking like a disobedient teenager after curfew. "You delicious little charlatan. Thou should know better than to try and outwit me."

RJ's chuckle would've put the Devil to shame. "And thou should better than to underestimate me." To prove his point, the raccoon suddenly took both forepaws onto Ozzie's stomach and massaged long and deep into the abdominal muscles, making the possum melt in seconds though his grip on RJ did not lessen even in the slightest.

"Oh RJ, you naughty, sinful creature...," Ozzie released a shivering sigh that completely ruined his tone of false admonishment, "you know you need to ask permission before handling such personal areas."

"Hey, you're the one who went all Don Juan on me by literally sweeping me off my feet and whisking me all the way out here," RJ playfully retorted. "What's ta keep ya from havin' your way with little old me?"

Ozzie shook his head with a warm chuckle. "'Little old you' once managed to outsmart a bear, love. You run circles around me if you wanted to. Besides, you know I know better than that. I treat you with nothing other than respect, admiration, and care. If anything you should be more cautious in how you display that charisma of yours. It—does things to me."

A dark smirk crossed RJ's muzzle at the soft-spoken admission. He put a hand to Ozzie's chest and neared the possum's lips. "Does it? Well then, let's see what else of me 'does things to you'."

RJ snaked his striped tail between Ozzie's legs and—yeah, right now seemed to be a real good time to leave.

With unusual quiet, a blushing Hammy managed to sneak away from the extremely personal scene. Honestly he felt like a little kid that just walked in on his parents kissing. Actually scratch that: he felt more like someone guilty of blasphemy, someone who just trespassed among sacred ground.

The light in their eyes...

How tenderly they handled each other...

All that love hidden behind their teasing and smirks...

Hammy may not have known much about love, but he had seen enough of it from Penny and Lou and Stella and Tiger to know how to identify it. And he could sure as rain identify Ozzie and RJ as head over heels for each other.

To be honest, the idea of the Shakespearean and the smooth-talker being a couple did not faze the squirrel now that he gave it further thought. If anything, it gave him downright joy to see that the two older mammals had found love in each other.

And God knows RJ needed and deserved all the love he could get.

It'd be best to leave those two alone for the time being.

Now back to finding that pesky cheese can.


So deep in memory, Hammy almost jolted at Ozzie's abrupt gasp. He faced him, emerald eyes full of concern.

"Ozzie...?"

The possum did not look his way; he simply put a paw to RJ's chest and peered closer at the raccoon, looking to all the world unbelieving and...joyous?

That was when how Ozzie's paw rose and fell on RJ's white-furred chest.

RJ's breathing white-furred chest.

Hammy did a double-take, jaw comically agape, at the detail before slowly tracing his eyes up to the raccoon's face, hoping to meet a pair of vivid aqua-blue eyes and a matching (albeit faint) grin.

His hopes did not go disappointed.

"Hey babe, hey Hambone. What's new?"

Never would Hammy forget the sight of Ozzie's face, how the elder mammal's face lit up brighter than a Christmas tree or the torrent of tears that suddenly cascaded all over RJ's fur, eliciting a joking raccoon's request to 'ease back on the waterworks, will ya, Oz?'

That joke did it.

Before Hammy could stop himself, he too gave into the urge to cry and embraced the raccoon with all the strength and fear of a child half-expecting a revived sibling or parent to disappear on the spot if let go even a little, pelting RJ with a hurried litany of apologies and promises.

Ozzie followed his lead beautifully. Gingerly gathering the raccoon's head into his arms, he whispered all sorts of sweet-nothings into RJ's ears, thanking every god he knew for this miracle and punctuating each thanks with a kiss upon his exasperated but not unappreciative lover's face.

"Geez, you guys," RJ managed to speak amidst all the affection, "One bullet wound and all of ya miss me like crazy."

That quip did not go over well with Ozzie. In fact, it sent the possum into a rampaging rant over irresponsibility and scaring everyone almost to death. Verne would've been proud.

And Hammy merely sat back beside RJ and smiled, thankful things had turned out for the better.