Disclaimer: I do not own Toy Story

A/N I would like to thank everyone that has reviewed, sent a suggestion, added this story to alert, added to favourites or has even taken time to read it. What would

I do without y'all?

Okay, I don't have the slightest excuse here for the delay in updating. None at all, apart from the usual "can't think of words - brain not working!" dilemma. But, recently, I chanced a look at the poll I have on my profile which I'd, incidentally, forgotten about, and thought I might give your worthy notions a go.

(Takes place before TS3) A/N

"Woah! Look at all this stuff!" venerated an introverted Rex, his small pinprick eyes agape in wonder at the sight bestowed upon them all. "I can't believe we've never been in here before!"

"Yeah," concurred Jessie as she stepped cautiously forward into the murky place. "I can't believe it, either." Misted dust glided up above them, mingling with the spill of reds and oranges from the sunset through the sky-light high in the ceiling. As the toys shared astonished looks, they knew it could be only one place they'd heard so much of: The Attic.

Earlier that same day, Ms. Davis and her too-mature-a-child Molly had been up to their necks trying to hunt down a box of personal belongings they required in favour of Andy's upcoming sixteenth birthday to showcast his life. As the mother tended to secure all sorts of old bits-and-bobsup here, both Molly and Ms. Davis had ended up spluttering on dust in the disturbed attic for the entire afternoon. Shortly after finishing with their tasks, they'd only been too eager to make the venture to Ms. Davis' parents house in concern for the big-day ahead. In their haste to keave the heat and humidity of the creaking attic, they'd neglected the stair case, still left idle and touching the ground.

Andy was away at his friend's for the night thereby bidding orifice to the family rendezvous and, incidentally, the toys' innocent snooping.

"This place is old," Hamm commented, slowly trotting forward casting a scrutinizing glance around the space. Boxes upon boxes were scattered about (perchance from the family's struggle to locate what they needed), parchments and papers were now strewn everywhere and decorations from all sorts of holiday events lay tangled and forgotten. At the very corner of the room, they spotted Andy's old television perched on the threadbare floorboards. "Hey, look. The old TV!"

"And look over here!" Buzz called from somewhere to the group's left, standing on his tip-toes to peer at the contents of an ordinary looking box by the wall. "Space comics!"

There was a groan from Mr. Potato-Head. "Oh, how original. Still full of himself!"

From this outburst, most of the toys risked a glance in Woody's direction, knowing the Sheriff to be the one to console to all the dilemmas of daily life. With a sigh, Woody said, "Okay, Potato-Head, just calm down. We're all up here to have a look. So I suggest we disperse in a few moments and-"

He should've saved his energy. They were already gone by the time he even tried to get around to the points he'd wanted to make, idly meandering around the attic hoping to find something useful out of it. With a small groan and a heavy sinking feeling inside his heart of stuffing, he followed suit thinking it'd be easier to just keep his mouth shut.

They spent the better part of the next hour paving their way into box after box trying to seek all the nice-little-valuables they could find, broadcasting very loudly to the others when they'd come across something of any worth.

"Woah! A book about dinosaurs!" Rex exclaimed ecstatically, his spotted eyes gleaming with delight. "Maybe this will make me scarier?"

"Ah, that's nothing, Rex," said Hamm, pointedly, from across the same box Rex was in. Below his hovering snout, there lay a book-all-about-business. "It seems Mom wanted to be quite the entrepreneur."

A rousy chit-chatter embarked all around the room. Even Woody found himself enjoying the experience.

"Hey, Woody," started Buzz, who was perched within a box along with Woody and Jessie browsing through all the comics. "These comics are amazing. I never knew Space Quests could be so fun."

Woody, who was browsing idly through an obsolete collection of Beano Comics with slight difficulty, lifted his head slowly to Buzz. "Hmm?"

As Jessie also panned her eyes upwards, the edges of Buzz's lips itched into a smile. "I mean - I never knew Sci-Fi comics could be so entertaining."

Jessie arched an eyebrow, "You're a Space Toy. Wouldn't it be in your nature to find anything space related entertaining?"

Buzz shrugged. "I just know I have a certain fondness for adventures-" He started, but stopped abruptly when they heard a small crash from behind them. They all made to their feet abruptly, peering over the edges of the box and towards the core of the clatter. What they saw gave them no surprise.

"Oh, great! Well done, Godspilla!" Rex was cowering a short distance away from a vexed Potato-Head, both standing before the great mess of a box that'd been knocked onto its side smattering papers, photos and parchments all about. "Look what you did! Now we have to clean this up!"

Throwing himself carefully out of the box, Woody crossed the attic over towards the bickering duo. "Now, now, Potato-Head. There's no need to act rash. I'm sure it was just an accident." A few moments later, Buzz and Jessie were standing a few paces behind Woody, lifting questioning eyebrows at the situation.

"Well, no way," the spud remarked, folding his arms in an exaggerated huff. "Everything's an accident with him. Accident this, accident that. If his head weren't glued to his head, he'd have used it as a bowling ball!"

Rex whimpered slightly, pacing back from Potato-Head. "But I was trying to get into the box! You know how short my arms are! I can't climb in!"

"Well then you learn to jump!"

"Come on, guys." Buzz intervened, stepping forward from behind Woody. "Do we really need to settle things this way? By arguing?"

Potato-Head went wide-eyed, nonplussed. "He's a liability to us all!"

"I'm not!"

"Yes, you are, Godspilla!"

"Potato-Head!" Buzz proclaimed, rashly. The Space Ranger folded his arms across his chest, surveying the spud with an apathetic mien. "We're all friends here. We can settle our differences calmly."

Obviously, the spud was predetermined to disagree, for etched upon his caricature features was a look of deep abhor. "Well, then we agree to disagree!" With that, he turned and started walking towards the stairs down to the hallway.

Rex, quite mortified now and wanting to fix himself back into Potato-Head's good-books, called after him, "Watch out for the stairs! The steps are pretty big."

"What-?" It seemed Rex had been too late. Mr. Potato-Head turned his head to Rex just as he was about to climb down the first step, thereby miscalculating his movement. With a sudden yell, he stumbled forwards and down the set of stairs, wincing with each step he fell.

The toys winced when they heard him hit the bottom. Rex, on the meanwhile, paced backwards with his eyes wide and bulging from their sockets. The others looked to him in question. He did not like that look; it made him feel rattled inside.

"It's not my fault!"

A/N I couldn't resist that line. :P This is absolutely abysmal work, but I mainly worked with a majority of this just to settle the fleeting boredom of waiting for the pre-Olympics programming to commence.

Might I just say My Word, a forty-foot Dark Lord!

Anyways, hope you all have a bright weekend ahead. :)

~x~FanFicAddict02