Stuart and Margalo in the Wild

by DinoFun

Summary:

Stuart Little 3 AU with Margalo in it.

Chapter 1: Packing for the Trip

STUART AND MARGALO IN THE WILD

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CHAPTER ONE: PACKING FOR THE TRIP

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"Underwear, extra underwear, socks, extra socks. Shirts. Extra shirts. Shorts. Extra shorts. Shoes. Book--"
"Book? What for?"
"To read on the road, of course, Margalo. It's a three hour drive there and three hours back."
"Stuart, I hope you're not going to be reading the whole time we're there. We're going to camp."
"I know. I know. And that's why I only packed one book."
"Which is?"
"Of Mice and Men."
"Good book. I've read it twice."
"You have? You'll have to tell me how it goes. I've only just started the second chapter."
"Nope. Not gonna spoil it for you."

Stuart Little and his best friend Margalo Serinus were packing for their trip to Lake Garland. Stuart had been listing off the items he needed as he put them into his suitcase. Margalo already had hers packed. Since she was a bird, and hence didn't wear clothing, her suitcase was much lighter, due to needing to pack less. It just had a couple of crackers, a brush (to smooth her feathers), a pair of small headphones, a small camera, and a compass. "Why don't you pack some lipstick? You have some room in there."
"Lipstick? Was that remark just because I'm a girl?" she asked in annoyance. Her look of annoyance quickly changed to a devilish smirk. "Or were you hoping I'd kiss you out in the woods when nobody's looking?"
"No comment," the mouse replied, refusing to admit which one it was. "What are the crackers for? You hoping to meet a parrot and ask him if he wants a cracker?"
"Oh Stuart, stop the teasing! I'm packing them for a snack. I may be a bird, but I get hungry just like you mammals."

The two saw George walking by, trying to lug his Playstation 3 and several games in its own suitcase. He too had packed his clothing already. "I thought Mom said to pack light, George," Stuart remarked, raising an eyebrow.
"This is light for me. I'm going to be bored out of my mind there. A lake, woods, and little electricity. That's why I'm bringing this," he said, showing off yet another bag with a small power generator.
"You know Mom's going to notice that and make you put it all back," Stuart said, rolling his eyes at his younger brother. George was 11 and still very immature. Stuart and Margalo were now each about 14. This was Stuart's last summer before high school. And he was glad that his mother, or human mother anyway, Elanor had finally relented and allowed him to go on a trip to the woods. He had gone on and on about how, with how much she babied him, he was going to die an old man, still stuck at home, never allowed to go anywhere, and that his tombstone would read "HERE LIES STUART. HE WAS NEVER ALLOWED TO DO ANYTHING. HE WOULDN'T HAVE EVEN BEEN ALLOWED TO DIE, BUT HIS MOTHER HAD NO CONTROL OVER THAT."

Elanor had told him not to backtalk. His father, Fredrick, however, had agreed with his son's assessment, and Elanor had relented, though she still was such a nag that she outclassed any horse. She was the reason he had packed all the extra underwear, shirts, shorts, and socks, though he hadn't the faintest earthly idea of why he would need all of that. He hoped that, if he ever married Margalo, a possibility as the two did have a mutual crush on each other, that she wouldn't be as much of a nag as a wife as Elanor was as a mother. Nagging mothers, one could tolerate. Nagging wives, not such much.
"I can put my stuff down first. Then you and Margalo put yours down on top of mine. Then we put Snowbell on top of your stuff. Mom will never be the wiser," George said, smirking to his older brother.
"That will never work on Mom! You're fooling yourself if you think it will," Stuart said.
"I must agree," Margalo said.
"Mom can't even figure out how to work the new TV properly. I had to help her figure it out. I'm sure I can outsmart her and get this stuff all the way to Lake Garland before she notices."
"Be careful. She might just chuck it all in the lake when she finds out you tricked her," Stuart warned him.
"Nah, she loves me too much to do that."

At that moment, Elanor and Fredrick entered the room. It was already 9 PM and the the family planned to leave at 7AM sharp for the trip. George hid his forbidden suitcases just in time. "Oh, hi Mom, we were just doing some last minute packing," George said, trying not to sound or look guilty.
"Let me check Stuart's stuff."
"Mom, I'm going into high school . I must protest!" Stuart snapped in annoyance.
"Just let me---"
"Dad, please tell her to let me grow up."
"Elanor, Stuart's right. he needs to be allowed to grow up. If he forgets something, it'll be on him."
"Thank you."
"Just sticking up for you, son."
"Very well, if you insist," Elanor sighed in resignation. "But don't come crying to me if you've forgotten something!"
"You three need to get to bed in an hour. We have to be up by six," Fredrick said.
"Yes Mr. Little," Margalo said.
"Yes Dad," Stuart and George said.
"Margalo, I think it's time you go to your room and settle down," Elanor said.
"Can I stay the night in here?"
"Margalo, we like you at this house, as a great friend of the family. But don't overstep your bounds. We have a rule that no girls are allowed to sleep in the same room as our boys, especially a boy over the age of 13," Fredrick said.
"Just this once, please?" Stuart begged. He wanted to continue talking with his friend.
"Absolutely not!" Elanor said adamantly.
"Well, goodnight, then. See you two tomorrow," the canary said as she left the room.

A few minutes later, after their parents had left, Stuart said "Well, I'll be going to bed early. That way I can get up earlier."
"So you can chat with Margalo."
"Yep."
"I don't get what the appeal of girls is."
"Maybe some day you'll get a girlfriend too."
"That'll be the day!"
"You never know."
"Well, you can go to bed now. I'm going to play videogames until I have to go to bed."
"That will keep me up!"
"Well, we can't always have what we want, can we?"
"Oh, we'll see tomorrow when Mom finds all the games you've packed!"
"Are you gonna tell her? If you do, I swear I'll stick you in the dresser drawer and you can sleep there all night!"
"No, I won't be a snitch. But I'm just seeing what you can't see."
"You're wrong. I'll be able to pull it off."
"You know, girls don't like boys being rude like you just were to me."
"Well, I don't really care, because I'm not interested in girls and I never will be!"

At 9:59, Mr. Little poked his head into the room. "Ok, bed now boys!" he barked.
"But Dad, 10:00 is still one minute away and I'm so close to---"
"Now George!"
"Yes, Dad!" he sighed, putting away the video game.
"Goodnight George. Goodnight Stuart," Mr. Little said before exiting the room.

When he was gone, George said "Goodnight Stuart."
"Goodnight George." George closed his eyes. The mouse quickly added "Oh, and by the way, your plan isn't going to work. I'm telling you."

"You're right.  Snowbell is too unreliable to be trusted to stay on it long enough.  I have a new plan."

"What?"

"I'll tell you tomorrow."  He closed his eyes.  A minute later, Stuart said "I don't think this one will work either, whatever it is."
"Goodnight Stuart!" George sighed in annoyance.
"Goodnight George."

Chapter 2: A Skunk's Nightmare

CHAPTER TWO: A SKUNK'S NIGHTMARE

While Stuart, Margalo, and George slept in New York City, having peaceful dreams, Reeko the skunk also slept by Lake Garland. He, however, wasn't having pleasant dreams at all. He watched a familiar scene, one that often troubled his dreams. He could see his younger brother, Shasta, and his two friends Alfonso the chipmunk and Liana the rabbit, were shouting "We need to get rid of Beast for good! We shouldn't have to slave all day just to pay her and her minions off!"
"Shasta, this is foolishness, you're going to get yourself killed!" Reeko protested.
"Some things are worth dying for.  Are you going to join us?"

"This is madness!  You're all going to get killed!"

"We're going to do this, with or without you," Shasta said.

"I won't let you!"

"Reeko, don't stop us!" Alfonso cried.

"Reeko, join us.  With two skunks, we might stand a chance," Liana begged him.

"The four of us can't beat a cougar!  We'd all be killed!" Reeko protested.

"If you join, then maybe others will join.   The more we can get to join, the better chance we have of getting rid of Beast," Alfonso said.

"it's a suicide mission!"

"Reeko, please!" Shasta pleaded.  

"I can't.  And you shouldn't either," he said, feeling torn.  Part of him wanted to help them, but his fear was stronger.  Beast could tear them apart.  

"Aren't you tired of having to gather food for her?" 

"Of course I am."

"Then join us, brother."

"Ok."

The group crept in the night toward the lair of Beast, a large, bullying cougar who was making them give her food under threat of eating them.  They spotted Beast, asleep.  

The skunk, chipmunk, and squirrel approaches her, moving slowly.  Reeko lagged far behind them.  He was very nervous, his stomach in knots.  If this went wrong, they were all dead.  How were they planning to kill Beast?  That would be a good question to ask.  With it literally being kill or be killed, having a great plan to kill your opponent was an absolute must. 

"We're going to claw out her throat," Alfonso said.

"If she wakes up, we're all dead!" Reeko warned.

"She's asleep.  Now's our best chance," Liana said. 

"I know, but I'm willing to die to stop her," Shasta said to his brother.

"I don't want to lose you.  I really think we should go back," Reeko pleaded, fearful of the outcome if anything should go wrong.

"No, I'm going through with this.  My claws are the sharpest and I'm going to be the one to take her out and free us all."

Two hours later, Shasta stood over Beast.  They had taken their time and moved quietly.  Reeko thought that this plan might just work.  They'd be free!

But then, Reeko, in his excitement, wasn't looking where he was moving his feet.  Though it was a tiny crunch from stepping on twigs, in the silence of the night, it might as well have been a firecracker.  

Beast's eyes shot open, the red and yellow gleaning in the dark like a tiny fire.  Shasta and Beast stared at each other in shock for a brief moment, neither of them making a move.  

Then, they both moved at once.  Shasta whirled around, pointing his tail at Beast and then spraying.  Beast rolled onto her back as the skunk sprayed.  The jet of spray narrowly missed her.  

Shasta sprayed again, but Beast rolled to the side and it missed again.  Beast leaped into the air as he sprayed yet again.  The spray hit her in the back but missed her face.  He sprayed a fourth time, aiming for the head but hitting her chin and stomach instead.  She snapped her jaws around his neck, killing him instantly. 

Alfonso and Liana lunged at Beast at once, coming at her from opposite directions, aiming to strike her in the neck.  However, Beast was ready, impaling the two with her forepaws before they could reach her.  

Reeko stood there, rooted to the spot like an ancient oak tree, horrified by what he'd seen.  Before he could try and disappear before Beast noticed him, he saw her fiery gaze shift his direction.  "And you were part of this too, I expect."

What followed would haunt Reeko even more than the deaths of his brother and his two friends.  "No, I didn't.  I stopped them.  I stepped on that twig to stop them and wake you up," he quickly lied.

"You'd betray your own brother?"

"I told him it was stupid, that it would only incur your wrath.  He wouldn't listen.  I feared what you do to us all, so I foiled them."

"Well, you're certainly loyal.  You'd make a good member of my crew."

While Beast's crew only had to pay 25% of the tribute that everyone else did, something he wouldn't mind, they also were generally despised by the other animals of the forest.  Part of him wanted to admit he lied and die like his brother.  But he was just too scared.  And so, he became one of her loyalists.

And in the two years since his brother's death, he'd been haunted many a night, as he was again this night, by the memory of what he'd done.  "Brother, you can't stay with her!" Shasta pleaded.

"I'm sorry.  I wish I hadn't failed you, but it's too late now for----"

"It's never too late!  She has to be stopped!"

"I'd love to stop her, but why die pointlessly?"

"Risking your life for freedom is never pointless!"

"What did your sacrifice do?  We're still under tribute."

"You just need more help this time.  That was our mistake before.  It wasn't your fault."

"Yes it was.  And maybe I should have died with you, but what'd done is done."

"You know you can't be happy living like this, man."

"At least I'm still living, unlike you!" he shouted, waking up out of his sleep.  It was dawn.  Another day.  Another tribute he'd have to pay to Beast.  

"Best get started gathering," he sighed, stretching and yawning from his sleeping spot under a willow tree.  

Chapter 3: The Plan Goes Wrong

Summary:

Despite George's best efforts, he'll have to leave his game console behind. Thankfully, his plan to sneak a smaller one as a backup plan worked out.

CHAPTER THREE: THE PLAN GOES WRONG

To Stuart's surprise, George got up early with him.  "What are you doing up early?  I thought you like to sleep in," Stuart asked, yawning and making his way toward the bathroom.  Thankfully, there was a mini-mouse urinal in the bathroom, closer to ground level, so he didn't have to climb up the toilet.  He'd tried once, and using the toilet paper as a climbing rope, and nearly broken his neck when the toilet paper had given way.  This had been not long after he'd come to the Little house.  After that incident, Frederick had put in the tiny urinal.  Where he'd gotten it from, Stuart didn't know, but thought he'd ask some day.  After all, when he moved out on his own, knowing where to get one would be useful in furnishing his future house, one that, even now, he was certain was going to be a lot more fit for his size than the one on Fifth Avenue.   He didn't know too much about his future, but, he felt, he could reasonably be sure on that fact at least.  

"I don't.  But I gotta make sure that my plan will work out."

Stuart groaned.  "What's the new plan?" he sighed.

George told him his new plan. "More thought out than your last one.  Still, I don't think it'll work.  Mom will notice how bulky that suitcase is.  Once she pokes around, it's game over."

"Which is why I'm going to help put stuff into the car before Mom and Dad wake up, remember?  I'll put all our stuff in the car as a helpful son.  And I'll be sure to put the incriminating suitcase at the bottom of the pile."

"You packing the car all on your own?  Not suspicious at all," the mouse said, rolling his eyes.

"Morning guys," Margalo said as she saw them exiting the bathroom.  

"Good morning.  Glad you're out.  I really have to peeoop. My cloaca is hurting.". Birds had a cloaca where their uric acid and feces were stored before being excreted out the vent.

"I'll see you after you do your business," the mouse said.

After Margalo exited the bathroom, George said to her and Stuart "Could you two help me pack the car?"

"We'll try, though we're a bit small," Margalo said.

"Wait, Margalo, he wants us to help him sneak his video games in a suitcase, and he wants that suitcase to be at the bottom of the pile.  If we help him, Mom will be furious at us," Stuart cautioned her.

"Come on, Stuart!" George snapped. 

"Sorry, can't help you."

"You're a terrible brother!" 

"No, I just know when not to do something stupid."

"Oh really?  Two years ago, you had me make up this lie about you going to Will's house to do a play, so you could go find Margalo!  How is this any different?"

"Well, did that plan work or did Mom and Dad see through it?"

"They saw through it....eventually."

"Exactly!"

"But---!"

"So don't try it."

"What about you, Margalo?"

"I'm not sure that I can do much to help.  Besides, as a former con artist, I know a thing or two about pulling the wool over someone's eyes.  I agree with Stuart: your plan won't work."

"Then give me a better plan."

"I'm afraid that I mustn't.  I don't want to deceive the Littles, after all I've already done to them.  I'm sorry, George.  Don't take it personally."

"Fine, I'll do it myself!". George stormed out of the room.

"Why can't he just enjoy nature?" Margalo sighed. 

"I don't get it either.  He didn't seem too upset about going on this trip.  Will Powell is going too, so it's not like he's missing his friends.  And we'll be busy all day and tired at night.  Better to read a nice book rather than risk staying up late by playing games too long."

"Staying up late?"

"Sometimes George can get a little carried away."

Meanwhile, while Stuart and Margalo talked, and also made themselves a bowl of cornflakes, and while George was packing the car, Snowbell the cat slept peacefully.

He was dreaming that he was in a factory, a nice quite factory full of fluffy things, and which had conveyer belts sending cans of tuna, chocolate mice, and mint-flavored, cream-filled canaries past him.  What paradise! 

"Hey Snowbell!" came a voice. 

The cat looked around, wondering where the disembodied voice was coming from.   "Who's there?" he called nervously, looking around.  

When no reply came, he turned his focus back to the conveyer belt.  "Hello lovely tuna!" he cried, seizing an extra large can of tuna.  

"Hey Snow!"

Snowbell, startled, dropped the can of tuna, spilling it.  He himself was carried by the conveyer belt.  Up ahead, the belt was dumping its contents into a large pit, so deep he couldn't see the bottom of it.  He tried his best to run, but he couldn't overcome the belt's momentum.  As he fell into the abyss, crying "AHHHHHHHHH!", the voice said "Snowbell, get up man!"

"Ahhhhhhh!" he cried as he woke up, running in fright and shock and crashing into the counter.  He hit it with such force that a bowl of baby food, half-eaten by Martha and left out by Frederick by mistake, fell onto his head, getting the gook on his head.  "Ug, this isn't tuna!" he whined.

"Well, at least you're finally up," came Monty's voice from behind.  

"Monty!  How could you?!  I was having the best dream ever!"

"Sorry.  I just wanted to get some grub before you left and before they found me.  With you gone, it'll be no food here for a while."

"Well, I'm off to a cat spa with all sorts of pampering." This, of course, wasn't true.  He was very peeved that he was going to be spending so much time in the wilderness, where he wouldn't even have air condition, only fans.  He also liked the wilderness to be far away.  Like on the TV to watch from the comfort of his home.   Still, he was messing with Monty, as payback for waking him up like that. 

"A cat spa?  In the middle of the woods?  Odd place for it if you ask me," Monty remarked skeptically

"That's why it's in the woods, so the street cats from the city would never find it.  The owners wanted it to be very private.  For special cats only.  All you can eat tuna and Herring buffet.  Pedicure massages anytime I want.  While rooms full of toys.  I can use anywhere I want as a litterbox.  And they deliver pizza all times of the night," the cat invented wildly. 

"Really?  Where do I sign up?" 

"Sorry, you have to make a reservation well in advance."

"Where can I go to make one for today?  That's in advance enough, isn't it?"

"Sorry, it has to be a month in advance.  Very exclusive.  You'd best eat the food and get out of here before the Littles wake up.  I don't want to see you get chased off with a broom again."

"Maybe I can hitch a ride with you today.  Just sneak in."

"You'd still need a reservation."

"Pleeeeeeease!"

"Maybe next time."

"Well, might as well eat.  At least I get some consolation."

"Good morning Snowbell, good morning, Monty," Stuart said as he and Margalo entered the room.

"Good morning Stuart and Margalo," Snowbell said.

"Hey, Snow, can I eat them?" Monty asked. 

"We've had this discussion before.  The answer is still no."

"How can you put up with it?"

"It's because we're friends."

George, meanwhile, had half the car packed.  His forehead was dripping with sweat as he moved as quickly as he could.

He was lugging another suitcase to the car when he encountered Frederick in the kitchen, making coffee.  "Morning, George," he said. 

"Morning, Dad."

"Why are packing the car by yourself?" Frederick asked, raising his eyebrows. 

"Well, you and Mom have been saying, over and over, that you wish I'd help out more."

"Well, not complaining.  Just wondering why you started today, out of the blue."

"Why not?  It's always a good day to start."

"Well, thank you."

"We should be ready to go in 15 minutes." 

"We still need to get your mother and Martha up."

"I can get them up.  I can even get their breakfast ready."

Mr. Little pinched himself.  It hurt.  He clearly wasn't dreaming.  He'd decided to check as he had to be sure.  Just the day before, George had acted like he was violating his 8th Amendment rights when he'd asked him to pause his video game for a few minutes and bring in the garbage cans and the recycle from the street.  A few days earlier, he'd acted like he was about to be waterboarded when asked to clean up the mess in his room before he would be allowed to go skateboarding.  Now, he was packing for everyone and even offering to make breakfast.  All without being asked!  Either George had somehow been visited by the parental version of the Ghosts of Christmas Past, Present, and Future in his sleep and had decided to take a lot of initiative, or else he was up to something.  The latter seemed most likely to be the case.  He was going to keep a very close eye on George and try and discover what he was really up to. 

Monty, meanwhile, had come up with a plan to go with the Littles to the 'cat resort.' As George loaded the last item in, Monty stealthily leapt into the back, unnoticed by either George or Mr. Little. 

Sometime later, the family headed into the car.  George Little was smug, pleased that his plan had worked, pleased that he'd proven Stuart and Margalo wrong, and pleased that his father hadn't caught onto him (Yes, he'd caught on that he was being watched.).  "Told ya it would work!" George whispered to Stuart as they strapped in.  

"Well, we should be there around 10." Mr. Little as he started the car.  

As the car pulled out of the driveway and turned into Fifth Avenue, Martha swung her rattle behind the seat.  Most of it slammed into Monty's backside, though part of it hit another part of him, a very sensitive part.  

"REEEEEENNNNNHHHHHHHHHHHHH!" the cat howled in pain.  Mr. Little slammed on the brake and Mrs. Little exclaimed "What in the world?!" (Snowbell had been dozing on the floor by her feet, so she knew that it couldn't have been him.)

As the car slammed on the brake, Snowbell woke with a start.  He jumped up on alarm, smacking his head on Mrs. Little's leg.  "Ow!  What's going on?  Why'd you do that?" he snapped. 

Monty leaped aside as Martha swung her rattle again.  He collided with several suitcases, knocking them over.  This revealed the video games and console that had been inconspicuously placed under the other bagged by George.   Monty, shrieking as a suitcase slammed onto his paw, pulled it free, mewling from the pain.   

Monty darted into the back seat and knocked over Martha's car seat, with Martha still in it.  Stuart hurried to unbuckle himself before it fell on him.   Thankfully, Margalo pull him into the air in time, though he was still buckled in.  Frederick and Eleanor exited the car and opened the back doors.  They both reached for Monty and cornered him as he sought refuge in the back.  

"Gotcha!" Frederick cried as he seized the irate street cat.  

"Hey, what's this?" Eleanor snapped at George, noticing George's bulky suitcase. 

"Just some stuff I packed," George said, trying to conceal his panic. 

"What do you have that's so big?" She opened up the suitcase and found the video games and console. "George!" she snapped. 

"How'd that get there?" George gasped, still trying to play the innocent. 

"Oh no, you're not bringing all of this!  Put it all back inside the house now!" 

"But all the doors are locked!" 

"Your father can let you in." 

"Good idea.  And while I'm at it, I can have a private conversation with our son on deceiving family.  I'd hoped he'd learned his lesson after last year."

As George exited the car with Frederick, Stuart whispered "Told ya it wouldn't work." George said nothing but just stuck his tongue out at Stuart.   

Meanwhile, Eleanor, who had taken Monty from Frederick, set the cat down several dozen feet away, crying "Shoo!  And don't come back!"

Monty, however, was still determined to get to the cat spa.   So, as he saw the Littles leaving in their car several minutes later, he stealthily leapt onto the hauler trailer behind it, which was hauling extra luggage, camping gear to be exact, that wouldn't fit in the car.  Hopefully, he could stay on.  

Meanwhile, inside the car, George smirked at Stuart and Margalo, showing them a small handheld video game that he'd managed to sneak past his parents.  The mouse and canary groaned.