I do not own Over the Hedge or any of its elements or characters. They belong to Dreamworks Animation and Michael Fry and T. Lewis. All I own are Abby, Tony, Slim Jim, Delilah, and anything or anyone else Dreamworks, Fry, and Lewis didn't think up for Over the Hedge.


Chapter 12

Today had to have been the craziest day Verne ever went through in his entire life—and it wasn't even halfway done yet. And after living with RJ for the past year, that was really saying something.

Right now, the turtle was dangling by his ankle from a rope that hung from a high branch, the other end being held near ground level by someone who could've easily passed for a Mini-Me version of a certain raccoon. Heck, the look-alike even shared RJ's impish grin.

Verne was not amused, especially after he just told his family he'd be back soon from finding RJ, who had been gone to scout out today's heist for a while longer than usual. The other hedgies must've been just as worried for the paternal reptile as for the raccoon by now.

"Alright, young...," Verne paused in mid-lecture to scrutinize the kit's scruffy appearance, "man...lady...put me down this instant!"

He wasn't sure what he'd been expecting as a reaction from the kit—even though being released, for starters, would've been nice—but he never anticipated for the child's face to suddenly twist in aggravation.

"Geez, why the heck does everyone take so long to figure out I'm a girl?!" The high-pitched voice said everything.

Verne blushed at his mistake, his cheeks a darker shade of green than his skin. "Um...sorry...listen, how about we talk this out? Please...? You said you and your brother wanted to see RJ, right?"

According to what she told Verne a few minutes after she caught the unsuspecting turtle in the well-camouflaged trap, the girl and her male twin had journeyed for miles per their mother's dying wish to join with a relative of their family—RJ, to be exact—only to be captured by Verm-Tech along the way. The kits managed to escape, but from that point on, they had to rely on stealth to get here, especially when they got in the suburbs.

That was as much information as the girl was willing to share with Verne before she clamped her mouth shut and said nothing more—other than casual insults meant to dissuade the turtle from probing any further.

"Yeah, what's it to you, Scales?" the kit barked, her expression stony but calm.

"Actually, I happen to know RJ." He took the girl's look of surprise as a sign to continue on. "Yeah, in fact, I can even introduce you to him, if you'd like me to. But I need you to get me down first, okay?"

This child seemed a little temperamental and sassy, but Verne knew a logical person when he saw one.

The girl didn't disappoint him when she coolly asked, albeit with a strong note of suspicion, "How do I know you won't give me the slip the second I let you down?"

Verne frantically waved his hands, his eyes wide with sincerity. "No, no, I won't! I promise."

The girl narrowed her aquamarine eyes. She required some proof before giving this guy the benefit of a doubt. "You swear?"

"Yes, I swear," Verne assured her, trying his best to not sound annoyed, "Scout's Honor."

In spite of herself, the kit giggled at the reptile's blotched attempt at the Scout sign—it looked more like the Vulcan salute—before she lowered the rope slowly enough for Verne to touch land without banging his head on the grassy, forest floor.

After offering her thanks, Verne struggled for a few seconds in trying to loosen the knots still clenched around his ankle. Whatever which of the twins did to tie this rope, he or she did a bang-up job doing it. The poor reptile's stubby fingers couldn't manage to undo the tight bights and binds that kept the knots together.

The girl sighed and rolled eyes as she finally walked up to Verne, pushing away his hands to work out the knot for him. "I'll do it. It'll be spring by the time you're finished."

That statement, jokey as it sounded, raised some alarm in Verne, making him almost forget about the kit. "Oh no, it's only five more days 'til winter!"

The exclamation earned Verne a weird but surprised look from the kit. "You keep track of that?"

Verne blushed once again as he coughed to hide his embarrassment. "Yes, well...someone has to. It's more of a habit than anything else...but it's a useful habit!"

The girl snorted at the turtle's words, but the light in her eyes carried enjoyment rather than mockery. "Geez, you are a heck of a worrywart, aren't you?"

'Well, I think I'm starting to see the family resemblance,' Verne mused in unamused annoyance. He might as well have been talking to RJ, right now. Still, he was grateful this kid wasn't acting so cold towards him anymore. Being so used to only mischief and over-energized antics, Verne had found the child's distrust, though somewhat relatable, to be jarring.

"So what's your name?"

Hearing that question made Verne take a double-take. He hadn't counted on being asked something so forward. 'Well, my tail's not tingling yet, and there's no sense of foreboding doom in me yet, so I say I'm in the clear as far as this kid is concerned.'

Speaking of kids...

A small, furry, form burst from the hedge behind the pair and tackled Verne from behind, the unprepared reptile falling flat onto his face. Chipper, childish chuckling rang just above his head as an older raccoon sauntered up to the compressed tortoise.

"I see you got to meet Pete," RJ pointed out with a wry grin while he strolled around the tested reptile. "Sorry the little guy couldn't help jumping at the opportunity to meet you."

Verne couldn't decide what to cringe at more—dealing with two unexpected surprises...or RJ's idea of literal humor. He lifted his head from the grass, spitting out dirt and greenery as he did, before he addressed the raccoon crouched down in front of him.

"Hey, getting into embarrassing situations a la raccoon is just part of my new lifestyle," Verne muttered with a sarcastic frown. A curious humming came up from his left. Oh yeah, he'd forgotten about his little "guest."

"Verne...so that's your name?" the girl asked as she stood by the boy raccoon still seated atop Verne's shell. 'I'd been thinking he'd be more of a Vernon, but hey close enough.'

"It sounds close enough when you think about. It almost sounds like the Spanish word for green. And there're lots and lots and lots of symbolism and sayings for the color green—green with envy, green around the gills, having a green thumb, the rub of the green, green stuff—Mm, hmph! Mm, hmph, hmph!"

Pete's sister just clamped his mouth shut before dragging him off from Verne's shell so the tortoise could get up. She figured the poor reptile had enough problems to deal with. He already looked like he had enough of those to go around even before she ensnared him.

"Sorry, my brother Pete here is a bit of a chatterbox," she released her hold on her brother's muzzle, "The name's Kate, by the way. Call me Katie if you want. Call me Kat and ya die."

Verne merely gave RJ a look that said 'We'll talk about this later' before looking back at the girl. "Yes, well...Kate...you and your brother sure cut it close. Winter's just around the corner and, bygone, the two of you are lucky you made it here without getting caught."

"Twice, actually," Pete pointed out, unabashed, "We only got captured once, but we got out the very next day. It turned out being a lot easier than we thought so..." he paused at the significant look from his sister, "I'm talking too much again, aren't I?"

Kate nodded, her approving grin saying everything. Peter blushed, "I'll shut up now."

His sister shook her own head then patted him on the back, "Hide your shame, Petey. Hide your shame."

"Well, since we now have introductions out of the way," Verne clapped his hands to capture the kits' attention, "let's get you two a place to stay for the night."

He paused in mid-sentence at the peculiar looks the kits were giving him and RJ.

RJ shared a confused look with Verne before jokingly stating in an attempt to lighten the mood, "Uh...what's up? Did Verne land in something on the way down?"

After hastily checking himself to assure that wasn't the case, Verne threw a glare at the raccoon, who merely threw his own hands up in mock defense.

Thankfully, Kate gave RJ and Verne the full details—or least as much as she felt the two adults needed without compromising herself and her brother. Better safe than sorry after all...

"Listen, that's nice of you guys, but Pete and I don't exactly think we'd do well in a family setting...especially if the family's like mega-mondo huge. We're a bit of trouble-makers, to be honest."

Pete nodded in agreement, silent for once. Kate continued as she rubbed the back of her head out of embarrassment, "Besides, we're so used to it being just the two of us. And with winter just around the corner, I don't think we'd be able to get used to everyone in time."

The girl's explanation brought expressions of sympathy to both Verne's and RJ's faces. They couldn't fathom how far of a journey these kits must've been through to admit, much less believe, such worries.

'Ah geez, we can't turn 'em away just like that,' RJ thought as he crossed his arms in concern and looked to Verne. "Well, Vernarino, whadda say?"

The tortoise shook his head in defeat, his heart already winning over his head. RJ was right. These kids had traveled a long way, not to mention risked a lot to get here, and turning them away now would be cruel, especially with an apparent family member here.

'Oh, I'll get the details later,' Verne locked that thought in the back of his head for the time being as he gestured a hand to tell the twins to follow him and RJ. "Just remember, RJ: they're your responsibility. You are the reason they showed up here in the first place."

The eldest raccoon held a hand as if taking a solemn oath...even though the mischievous grin on his muzzle and the wink he gave the twins suggested otherwise. "I assure you, Verne, these kids will be first-rate citizens thanks to me."

That sentence earned RJ a look of doubt from Verne, who worriedly changed his mind. "On second thought, a few extra hands might not hurt."


Meanwhile, somewhere outside the hedge...

Robert was not having a good day. In fact, his day had recently upgraded from "lousy" to "headache-worthy."

Being an assistant to someone as strict and icy as Delilah gave enough challenges for someone as meek as the chubby redhead. The only reason he'd taken this job (other than the one that was Delilah's "secret weapon") was due to the immense pressure placed upon him by his parents, who'd both been proud graduates with master's degrees from Verm-Tech.

He, on the other hand, had had other plans. Compared to the rest of him family, as well as his fellow employees, Robert harbored a special love for animals, especially the small, cuddly ones. Because of this love, his dream had been to become a zoologist, someone who studied and helped animals rather than captured and killed them.

'Wait, what am I even doing here?' Robert mused to himself, stopping at a street corner as a light came on from above, bathing the man in a halo of yellow illumination.

He looked down at the bulky contraption that lay in his hands. Though disguised to look like a dark-grey rock with convincing grey speckles, there were bulbs and wires on the top and the sides and a giant, dangling tube in the back that ruined the camouflage. What made the man shudder, though, was the sound of scampering and scratching. He could scarcely hear the piteous, terrified squeaks of rats trapped within the contraption, set but unwilling to be capped at the first sign of vermin.

Again he thought, 'What am I doing here? Why couldn't Delilah get someone else to do her dirty work?'

His troubled mind reverted to the conversation between him and his boss from earlier.


A strong hand griped Robert by the cuff of his collared shirt and lifted him off his feet.

Delilah was not pleased. "Robert. Tell me. Who did I put in charge of two measly kits?"

"Me," he responded in terror, all too familiar with his boss's temper.

Delilah hummed in terse approval. "Who is the one who could have been ordered to guard the more hostile and dangerous subjects instead...but never was?"

"M-Me."

Her face neared his, letting Robert get a good look at her chilling eyes. "And who is going to be responsible for catching those kits so that the secret to our base is never revealed, thereby circumventing the consequence of every news media, animals' rights activists, and their grandmothers from banging on our doorstep?"

Robert looked off to the side in defeat. "Also me."

He felt a finger touch his bulbous, cherry-red nose, even though the contact did little to calm him. Turning his head to catch his boss's malicious smile didn't do him much good either.

"Well...yes and no...you are going to recapture the kits...except you're going to need to some help doing so," the woman wagged her finger. "Even for raccoons, they're much too crafty to be captured by a single person. However..."

Robert had a bad feeling about where this conversation was headed. The sinister, slithering shadows cast upon his boss's heart-shaped face didn't help him much either. "However...?"

"Let's just say there's some technology left over from the "olden days" that might suit our purposes quite nicely," Delilah suddenly pointed to the ground beneath Robert, "Be downstairs at the front doors in five minutes; our boys in the lab will have something for you by then."

The last detail Robert remembered seeing before being dropped to the floor and left alone in the office was Delilah's dark smile, her high-heels sounding like knives scrapping against the floor.


Robert felt his shoulders slump, his emerald eyes sagging even more than usual from the reminder.

'Of course...And she'll ruin me if I as so much as mess this task up by the slightest detail.' Robert rolled his eyes at this thought. Delilah was notorious for being a strict perfectionist.

Not only that but aside from her anger and ruthlessness, many Verm-Tech workers feared her due to the numerous "connections" she had. Just one call from her and you could kiss whatever new job you had your eyes on goodbye. One time, she went so far as to get a technician from another company fired all because he overlooked a single light-bulb in the men's bathroom.

And Robert, for reasons he'd rather not mull over, happened to be one of Delilah's "favorites." She always made sure to pile a sizeable chuck of her work on top of him, never gave him a day off, even on holidays, and never once gave him a compliment, much less a "good job" or "thank you."

And the worse part: Delilah always knew every detail about her employees' mistakes: what they screwed up, how they screwed up, why they screwed up, etc. So even if Robert did manage to ditch this stupid, evil contraption, his boss would find out all the same—whether by secret video feeds or simply scaring the answers out of him. She could be very intimidating when she wanted to be.

'There's no way out of this and no way to fight it.' Robert trudged his way to the trap's designated spot and languidly set it on the ground before planting himself on the nearby sidewalk. Hands under his chin, he breathed a long, heavy sigh. His despondency couldn't have been more evident than if the sky had been raining.

Robert rubbed a hairy hand over his face before looking up to the pinpricked stars not blotted out by the streetlights. 'Please let there be a way out. Please let there be a way out.'


Back in the hedge...

"Quick, quick, get to the ramp!" Quillo eagerly pointed out as he, his two prickly brothers, Hammy, Heather, and Kate watched over Peter's shoulder. For a first-timer, the kit wasn't doing half-bad.

"I see it! I see it!" The raccoon flipped his fingers from button to button with such speed his digits were almost blurs. Before long, the game in Peter's hand blipped as the pixelated car on the screen soared off a red-lighted ramp and into the air. Seconds later, a bright-green, blinking "WIN" took up the whole screen.

"Bonus points!" Kate cheered as she, Heather, and the boys, Hammy included, all shared high-fives. The adults stood away from a distance, looking at the scene in amusement, not surprised at the children's quick acceptance of the twins.

"Heh, told those two they had nothing to worry about!" RJ proudly commented to Verne, elbowing the tortoise in the arm. Verne merely rolled his eyes, even though there was no use hiding his relieved smile. He was very thankful the kids' introduction to the rest of the family went off without a hitch.

"Aw jeepers, though, the poor things," a female porcupine cooed in a Canadian accent, "They came all this way by themselves? I'm surprised they don't look so tired, yeah?"

"Tell me 'bout it, Pen," a skunk of the same gender—Stella— agreed, her beautiful green eyes thoughtful, "Those squirts must be related to RJ. Who else could pull off something so...so...?" Stella paused to think up a good word.

Tiger, her larger, snow-white furred housecat mate, quipped in his silky, Persian voice, "Clever...?"

"Ingenious...?" Ozzie, Heather's theatre-inspired dad, added.

"Wicked awesome...?" Everyone, the other kids included, looked at Bucky in blank silence. "Oh...sorry..."

Stella quickly broke the quiet, however, nodding at the porcupette. "Close actually; I was gonna say 'insane like nuthin' else.'"

Peter raised an eyebrow at the skunk's words. "But that's still like 'wicked awesome,' right?"

RJ smirked at the kit's question. "My little compadre, that is like a T.K.O to a T. And I do mean one to the other guy and not to your own self."

"So do you two have, like, plans for when spring comes?" Heather hurried her next words at the confused looks the twins gave her. "I mean...not that you two should leave. I mean..."

'Oh yeah, step back out in the open yonder where dangers abound. I miss the thrill of near-death experiences already.'

But Kate knew she couldn't say that to Heather. The opossum had only been curious, perhaps even concerned. She'd been as nice to her and Pete as much as everyone else of RJ's family had been, so answering her with sarcasm would've simply been unfair.

"Well..."

All the hedgies, the young ones included, felt their concern grow more and more the longer Kate took to respond.

For a change, her brother came to her rescue instead of the other way around. "RJ isn't the only person we were supposed to find. At least that's what we think. Mom tried to tell us something else, but she died before she could finish telling us."

All of the adults shared gazes of perplexity at the mystery behind the kit's words, and Verne detected no signs that Peter was lying—no nervous twittering, no stuttering, and, most of all, no breaks in eye contact.

He and Kate had honestly barely a clue as to who else they were meant to find. They could very well be on a wild goose chase—and pay the price for in the process...which was why the reptile didn't regret saying the following words:

"Better make room in the log, kids. We're gonna be a bit more packed this winter than usual."


I realize that turtles and tortoises are different animals, but I'm not going to bother going through this entire chapter or the next ones to correct them just because of a technicality.