Wonderful World
An AU parody inspired by "As Good As It Gets"; beta-read, reviewed and edited by Howling WereWolf.

As a usual, I do not claim ownership for anything from Kingdom Hearts or As Good As It Gets. I am just another fanfiction writer trying to get by with four jobs and two to two and a half hours of sleep six days a week (why I love Sundays).

Apologies for any out of character actions that I may have slipped in.

This day that starts this story was like any other kind of day one liked; the air was cool, but there was no rain. The morning was setting in, but the rising sun's glaring rays weren't hurting anyone yet. It was one kind of day that people loved to go out on, to smell the flowers, watch the birds and just feel happy about living.

Well, most people, anyway.

"Get the hell away from there!"

A middle-aged blond man of an average height, straw between his lips and aviator goggles on his head, dashed out of the shop that read "Highwind's Repairs". In his hand was some rusty old gadget even he would not bother keeping. Waving it threateningly, he continued barking at - ironically enough - the little border collie pup not too far away.

"Go whiz somewhere else! Go whiz all over the city if you have to! Just leave my shop sign alone! Away from it, damn you! Get away!"

The little dog whine-grunted in puzzlement, then sniffed the post a little more. That same post that read "Highwind's Repairs - ask for Cid Highwind and no one else". Then it turned around and squatted.

"NO!" the man bellowed. Immediately, the dog's head snapped up to look at him in confusion.

"Stand up. Stand up now, come on."

The dog slowly moved to comply, then the look on its face showed it was not ready to wait any longer and it squatted again.

"That does it! You're dead, you badger-faced son of a bitch, you! You dog-faced badger! I'll fix your clock; I'll fix every gear!"

The puppy yipped as the man seized it by the middle and hoisted it up, showing a nice yellow puddle formed at one side of the post. Growling, holding the dog at arm's length, the man looked around desperately. Then he spotted a truck being fired up.
"S&R Recycling".

"In ya go!"

With a startled yelp, the puppy disappeared into the paper bin, just as the truck drove off.

"This is Traverse Town; if you can make it around here, you can make it in any other shit dump. Good riddance!"
Flipping a finger after the departing truck, the man walked back into his shop muttering about the yellow stain on his signpost.

Then he heard someone whistling. Not the happy, pointless kind - it was still cheerful, though - but the kind used to call for animals, usually dogs.

"Angelo? Angelo, here boy!"

"...aw, sheeeeeeeeeet..." the man muttered to himself, then quickly ducked for cover behind his desk. As he pretended to be studying some reports, another blond man entered the scene. The only difference was that this one was a little taller, much younger, and his hair was fashioned into a spike. He was also scanning the area and whistling.

"Angelo? Where are you, snookums?"
Then he turned and looked into the shop. "...Mr. Highwind?"

The older blond man - now identified as Mr. Highwind the shop owner - slapped the papers down and glared at the younger man. "What the hell do you want?"

The younger man stopped and cleared his throat carefully. "Mr. Highwind, have you seen Angelo?"

Mr. Highwind's brows knotted. Rising from the desk, he stepped outside and faced the other. "...Cloud Strife, is it?"

"Yes?"

"Who, or what, is 'Angelo' supposed to be?"

Staring blankly in instinctive response, the man finally answered the question. "... You know, Angelo. My dog. Brown and white little border collie with an adorable little face."

Mr. Highwind snapped his fingers in understanding. "Oh! You meant your dog!"

"Yes, that's right; Angelo."

"For a minute there, I thought you meant your other snookums."

Cloud's facial expression changed to one of confusion. "...'other snookums'...?"

"Long brown hair? Big ass 'love cut' scar on his face? Leather belt fetish?"

Cloud caught on at once, and he frowned. "You're talking about Leon. You know him, Mr. Highwind; Leon Leonhart. And it's not a fetish; it's just part of his personal style... I think you know that, too."

Mr. Highwind raised his brows this time. "...do I, now?"

Cloud nodded, and cleared his throat again as his eyes flicked away from Mr. Highwind. "Yeah...he's also right behind you."

Mr. Highwind's expression changed and he backed into his shop a bit as another towered figure glared at him behind stormy blue-gray eyes and a fierce angry scar that ran diagonal across an uncompromisingly stony face.

"...well, good day to you; looking better than usual. Without all that leather."

"... ..."

Cloud decided to steer the subject away from the offence in time. "Did you find him, Leon?"

"No, and we'll probably have to give up for a while; the dealers are coming to see our work in half an hour."
All while talking, the man named Leon led Cloud back down the street.

"As long as you keep your 'work' behind a thick curtain and mute button, I have no complaints!" Mr. Highwind called after them.

Leon stopped and half-turned. His facial expression did not change, but the look in his eyes said enough.
"...Cloud, why don't you go ahead-?"

"No, Leon, come on. It's not worth it; just let it go."
A hand on the other's shoulder, Cloud turned him back again and they continued walking away.

"Hope you find your snookums! Love that dog!"

It was Cloud's turn to stop and look back.
"...you don't love anything, Mr. Highwind."

Then the two turned and went up a flight of stairs, disappearing from sight. With a shrug, Mr. Highwind went back inside to resort his reports.

The first dealers were filling the apartment as Leon retreated to the washroom to cool down. In the living room, Cloud acted host as he talked to the more interested or sociable ones.

Where the spaces were not filled by mingling people, there were weapons. Swords, blades, guns, halberds, anything that had a surface. And on those surfaces were engravings, skillfully placed in to line the lengths. Each design was unique, yet all held a somewhat philosophical sentiment. These could be hero's weapons, had the timing been set a few thousand years back. Instead, now, they were being shown off to any man with enough wealth to take them into his collection.

Finally, Leon emerged with his more social presentation - still the same stony face with more receptive eyes - and came down to where Cloud was talking with what had to be their latest agent. Cloud spotted him in a moment and moved to let him into the conversation.
"Leon, I'd like you to meet Andre; he'll be helping with our transactions with the dealers. Andre, this is my partner, Leon, who did the great job of placing the designs on every weapon here."

"Pleasure," Leon stated, shaking the hand in business manner. Etiquette was etiquette, no matter how many lousy agents there were in the world.

At that point, two shorter individuals came through the opened door and carefully made their way through the crowd.
"Cloud? Hey, Cloud?"

Cloud turned and caught sight of them. Almost immediately, he started to step away. "Could you two excuse me for a second?"

Both acknowledged and watched him ease through the people and toward the pair.

"Sora! Riku! What brings you here?"

The shorter one - a brown-haired blue-eyed kid looking younger than he was - responded by holding up a messy looking Border Collie pup. The pup yipped gleefully.

"Angelo! Where have you been?"
Taking the dog from the boy, Cloud started hugging and fussing over the little thing as it kissed his face feverishly. "My little boy, look at you! I was so worried about you!"

"We found him, Cloud," the brown-haired boy said, watching with accustomed casualness to the scenario.

"I know you did! We know you did! Where was my little baby, anyway?"

"In our paper bin, eating out of a full diaper that managed to escape earlier notice," the taller, silver-haired boy answered without so much as twitching.

Cloud froze, then tentatively wiped at his face before inspecting the hand.

"Riku's kidding, Cloud. Really, he is," the brown-haired kid quickly reassured. Sure enough, the silver-haired one broke into a smirk.
"It's funny, if you think about it. C'mon, we gotta get back to the truck."

"Say, guys, wait a minute."

The two boys stopped leaving and looked back at Cloud as he closed the distance between them. "...how did Angelo get into your recycling bin, anyway? He's kind of small, and even if he managed to get onto the truck..."

"Maybe some nice guy down a block or two dropped him in while we were making our rounds?" Riku offered.

Cloud fell silent. Right where he left him, Leon took that in as well, his eyebrows moving even more closer together, ever so slightly.

"...well, thanks a lot, you guys. See you around."

The boys said their goodbyes and headed back down the stairs and toward the waiting "S&R Recycling" truck. In a moment, they had driven off.

Down in the far back of his shop, Mr. Highwind was bent over a severely thrashed item that probably was a guitar in its past life. Or maybe a radio. It was hard to tell in its present state.

"...so if I can find the right one, I can cause it to produce sound again," Mr. Highwind muttered to himself, carefully, picking through those wires. "...let's see..."

Ring! Ring! Ring! Ring!

"Damn you all, what now?"
Jerking away from the workbench, Mr. Highwind stormed up to the door and jerked it open, glaring straight at the face he had been expecting to show up.
"Yes?"

Cloud blinked, then nervously coughed before beginning. "I found Angelo, Mr. Highwind."

"So?"

"Did...did you...do something to him, Mr. Highwind?"

"You realize I'm running a business here, my buddy boy?"

Cloud stopped and returned to being slightly taken aback. "...I'm sorry, what?"

"No matter what time it is, or what day it is, I'm stuck here, and I've got to listen to every nut in the street mewl about another scratched toaster, or another overheated waffle iron that they could have very well handled themselves. Do you know what I have to do about it? I have to WORK!
"So do me a favor: don't touch that bell unless you're paying me for something to fix; not even if there is a fire, or a flood, or even a typhoon. Not even if you - or your fine pussy over there - happen to become Traverse Town's first gay district leader, and you want to celebrate..."

"Mr. Highwind, we-"

"Not even if you hear a pained scream and a thud, and there is red stuff seeping from under the shop door. Not even if the smell of something returning to nature the long way is in the air, so thick that you can hardly breathe. Not even then; you don't touch this bell if you're not a customer. Do we have an understanding, sugarplum?"

"...yes, sir," Cloud finally managed to utter, nodding.

"Wonderful! Have a nice day."

Slamming the door, Mr. Highwind turned and walked back inside.

Cloud stared at the closed door, then turned and looked back at the silent Leon at the side.

"...well, at least we know each other's boundaries a bit better now, right?"

"... ... ..."

"I think I'll go back upstairs. Are you coming?"

"...you go ahead; I'll be right up."

"...let's see...if this wire is - by assumption - meant for the electricity input, then it means this one is...yes, I think-"

Ring! Ring! Ring-ring!

Slamming his tools back down on the table, Mr. Highwind thundered back out and threw open the door. "That does it! You've pushed my buttons, now, you pansy-assed little stool pusher, y-AAAAAAAAAAAAA!"

Turning to the side, Leon slammed the older man into the wall with the red printed letters listing the paying rates for any number of items.
"You think you can scare everyone, but you don't scare me; you're not even close."

"Don't touch me! I can sue you! Assault and battery! Criminal threatening! Weapon possession! They'll buy it all; you've got your scars, and I fix the judge's gas stove!"

"Shut up! Don't mess with me if you're not life-insured!"
That shut the older man up for a second, but the younger was not done.
"I come from hell! I know twenty grandmas with more attitude than you! So suck your own stupid eggs and enjoy them!"

Then there was a tense silence as eyes bore into eyes, one man holding up another against a wall.

"...are you listening to me, Cid Highwind? Do I have your undivided attention, now?"

The man nodded quickly.

"Good. Now, I'll let you in on a little secret; you've got reservations made in Hades' resort. So if you ever touch that dog or verbally abuse Cloud again, I'll send you there on permanent vacation with no service charge. Do we have an understanding, grandfather?"

"Yes, sir."

"Wonderful. Have a nice day."

Releasing the older to land on the floor butt first, Leon turned and walked off, casually swiping dust off his hands.

"Leon?" Cloud could be heard calling down.

"I'm coming," Leon replied as he jogged back upstairs with a practiced light-heartedness, if only to keep the customers happy.

Cid Highwind remained sitting there on his butt at the side of his shop, staring after the man in shock as he registered what happened. Finally, taking in a few quick breaths, he got back up to his feet and walked carefully back inside.

At least he could try and fix that mechanism without any other disturbance, now...

This spot will be reserved for post-story comments and answers to any reviews I might get. Oh, and if you haven't seen As Good As It Gets, don't worry; Cid's not a real villain. Trust me, just wait for the next chapters to unfold.

Have a nice day.

Sincerely,
Pelz-Junge