That said, this ain't your momma's fanfic. We'll see if I can make this interesting for all involved.
Disclaimer: I don't own anything except the brown haired girl.
She was cute. He had intended for her to look that way of course, but it was still off-putting. Her hair was tied back with a black ribbon, though soft brown curls escaped from the binding, here and there. Her expression was free from worry, and her neat jumper was uncreased and clean.
A casual glance would see only a sleeping girl of perhaps ten years. To the trained eye, however, it was obvious that there was something wrong. Her chest did not rise or fall, and the rest of her pale form was eerily still.
Robbie Rotten clapped his hands together in delight. It had taken him days upon days, and had cost him in hours of sleep, but it was finally done.
"If I can't get Sportacus and that pink brat to let me be as lazy as I want to be, then I'll have someone do all my work for me!" he crowed. "Brilliant! Then I'll be able to spend all of my time either being lazy, or plotting to get rid of them both!"
With a flourish, he slid one hand under the girl's shoulders and lifted her to a sitting position. He pushed her hair aside until the back of her neck was visible. A small red switch lay there, with "ON" at the top and "OFF" at the bottom.
Robbie flicked the switch up.
"Another day, another kitten," Sportacus laughed as he climbed back down the ladder with his unhappily mewing charge. He put the grey ball of fur back on the ground in front of its mother, who regarded Sportacus solemnly before picking her kitten up and carting it off to be punished.
"Wow Spartacus, that was awesome!" Trixie exclaimed as she watched the two cats disappear around a corner.
"That cat wouldn't let anyone near the apple tree until you got here!" Stephanie added. She sported a set of claw marks from when she had tried to rescue the kitten herself.
Sportacus shrugged. "Maybe she likes--oh!" The crystal in his shirt had begun to flash. "Someone's in trouble!"
All three looked around for the source of the problem. The boys were playing basketball, and as far as any of them knew, the Mayor and Bessie were holed up in an office, preparing for this year's audit. Sportacus was about to head up to his airship for a better view when Stephanie grabbed his sleeve and cried, "Look!"
What appeared to be a pile of spare parts with legs was moving toward the town's large blue recycling canister on the other side of the basketball court. Sportacus' eyes moved downward until he spotted the discarded bicycle that lay directly in the carrier's path.
Throwing his arms first one way then the other, Sportacus flipped his way across the court. "Wait!" he shouted, grabbing the bicycle so that he could pull it out of the way--
--but the pile of recycling had other plans. It neatly stepped to one side, avoiding the bicycle and certain disaster, and continued on its way with nary a glance at the bike-wielding Sportacus.
Stephanie had caught up to Sportacus by this point. She came to a hopping halt, and they both watched as the unfamiliar girl--for they could see that it was a girl now--dumped her load into the blue bin. She stood on her tiptoes to look in, ensuring that everything had slid down properly, then turned around only to be confronted with a flurry of pink.
"That was so cool!" Stephanie cheered with a little clap of her hands. "You were carrying all that stuff but you didn't trip or fall or anything!"
"I thought you were in trouble," Sportacus said, coming up behind Stephanie. He smiled reassurance at her. "Seems like you didn't need my help after all."
The girl looked down at the ground rather than make eye contact. Her brow creased a bit, and Stephanie and Sportacus glanced at each other in confusion. It was as if she were afraid of them.
"I'm Stephanie," Stephanie said, her voice quieter than before. She tossed her head toward her friend. "And this is Sportacus. What's your name?"
At this last, the girl finally did look up. She was pretty, in a pale, ethereal sort of way. Her hair was neatly tied back, and Stephanie finally noticed that she was wearing a worn-looking apron that was far too large for her. Her expression was of deep concern.
"I'm..." the girl started, but stopped. Her brow furrowed more. "I'm..."
"Girl! Where are you, girl? You've been gone for--" Robbie Rotten stormed down the street, irritation in every line of his body. He stopped dead when he realised that Sportacus, Stephanie, and the object of his search were staring at him like had sprouted an extra head. He scowled at the first two.
Without another glance at Stephanie or Sportacus, the girl fled to Robbie. She stood slightly behind him, and after a quick glance at her, he put a hand on her shoulder and murmured something softly. She shook her head and, satisfied by her response, Robbie turned his attention back to the bewildered two before him.
"You are not to talk to her," Robbie spat at them. "I don't want her to get ruined by all of your--" he waved one hand vaguely in the air, "--exercise mumbo jumbo."
"We were only trying to be nice," Stephanie said, crossing her arms before her. "You don't have to be so mean about it."
Sportacus said nothing, but kept his gaze trained on the silent girl who was trying to hide behind the one person in Lazytown who was well-known for hating children. She looked up at him briefly, and he saw confusion in her eyes before she ducked her head again. Her hand snuck up to Robbie's own. He looked down at her, obviously surprised, but after a moment's hesitation let her take it.
"Bah," Robbie snorted. "Well, you just leave her alone. She doesn't even like you. Come on." This last was said to the girl, who nodded briefly before following Robbie back toward the billboard.
Stephanie watched them go, still unimpressed. When they were out of hearing range, she rounded on Sportacus. "What on earth do you think that was all about?"
Sportacus gazed after the peculiar pair thoughtfully. "I'm not sure, Stephanie," he replied. "I'm really not sure."