A/N: Well, it happened, I'm officially writing for WoodyxDolly. Oh, can someone please come up with a ship name, because Woodolly is just not rolling of the tongue. This has no relation to TS4 or whatever's going to be in it.

Mackenzie Lippin. With two unpullable red pigtails, crooked teeth and a snarl that would make most hunters shrink back in fear, this little girl dominated Bonnie's class as 'most popular' and made sure everyone knew it. No child in that class had ever turned down a playdate with Mackenzie, in hopes that they would rise up that social hierarchy of the classroom, and on May sixth, Bonnie's chance arrived.

Unfortunately, popular kids did not always behave the best.

"I'm playing with these ones, you can play with the peas," Mackenzie dictated, pointing a neatly-manicured finger towards the pile of toys she had deemed suitable for Bonnie to play with. She held Dolly and Woody in her hands, inanimate yet disgusted, and perched them atop the play castle Bonnie had received for Christmas.

The excuses, and defenses, leaked into Bonnie's mind, but the fear of having no one to play with when Monday rolled around stuck hard, and she relented to let Mackenzie rule playtime. "Can we have them all go to the circus?"

"The circus is dumb," Mackenzie cursed, inciting little flames to light up in Bonnie's ears. She was allowed to say that word? At Bonnie's young age, words like 'dumb' and 'stupid' were perhaps the greatest show of rebellion a child their age could enact. "They're going skateboarding, like my big sister."

That explains some stuff, Bonnie thought.

"Girls, time to stop playing, Mackenzie's mom is here." Bonnie's mother knocked lightly on the ajar door, peeking her head in. Judging by the distraught, ticked off look on her daughter's face, she had come just in time.

Immediately, Bonnie grinned. Finally, she could get her toys back! Mackenzie had strewn them around like they had played war, with Jessie hanging form the window sill, Buzz tied up in the blankets of her bed, slinky perched in the ceiling fan...it was a miracle none of them had gotten injured. As soon as that girl was out of the house, Bonnie planned to take a long time resorting all her toys.

Then again, as Mackenzie began packing up her things, it wouldn't hurt to start now.

As soon as Mackenzie's back turned, Bonnie rushed to the window, grabbed Jessie and threw her under the bed. She did the same with Buzz, Slinky, Mr. and Mrs. Potato Head, Rex and Trixie, and anyone else she was able to get her hands on before the words 'Can I borrow these toys' seeped into Mackenzie's mind.

In her haste, Bonnie had forgotten two vital toys, who were presently trying not to hyperventilate as the pink zipper closed the light out from the inside of the baby-blue backpack.

"Thanks for having me over, it was an ok time," Mackenzie said, admiring her own nail polish. She scooped up her bag and smirked to herself. Bonnie thought she was so cool with all her precious toys.

"Well, I'll see you Monday, bye Mackenzie!" Bonnie practically pushed the girl out the room, slammed the door after her, and slid ono her floor.

Thank goodness that was over. Now, time to create an elaborate storyline, involving roller-coasters made of glitter, a highway robbery, and an evil witch who–

No.

By the time Bonnie had rushed out of her room, running with socks on as her mother had warned her against, Mackenzie was sitting comfortably in her car, her backpack on her lap, as her mother drove down the street.

#

"Not good, not good…"

"It'll be fine, don't worry."

"Why does this happen to me?"

Dolly, from her humid, dense corner of the single-pocket backpack, eyed Woody across from her. If anyone else had said those words, she would have thought them to be a stuck-up, selfish brat. But Woody? Considering all he went through, he kind of had a reason. Who else went through as many escapes as he did?

"I'm sure it'll be fine, Dolly will tell her mother, and they'll come get us either today or next morning. I know Bonnie, she would notice if we were gone pretty quickly." Dolly, while she felt confident, didn't like the odd stirring that enveloped her mind. This was possibly the first time she had been apart from Bonnie, and she didn't like the feeling.

Woody had to consider her words. He had cheated death numerous times at every game, this was merely a snag. He sighed, rubbing his face and leaning against a book. "You're right. I just can't believe this happened again."

"Do I want to hear the first time?

"Probably not."

Chuckling softly, Dolly wrapped her short arms around herself, as if going to sleep. "Sometimes I wonder how you guys made it out of all that."

"Same here." Woody smiled across the backpack, lost in the memories, once cruel and terrifying, not gentle and nostalgic. Dolly seemed fascinated by what he had gone through, perhaps because she had lived a somewhat sheltered life inside Bonnie's room. "Y'know, this is your first real crisis outside Bonnie's room. Congratulations, Dolly. You're one of us."

How did he always manage to crack her up?

"Gee, thanks, though I'm not sure if that's a good thing." Dolly motioned around the backpack, as if gesturing to the very notion of risking life and death on a regular basis.

"Oh, trust me, it's not, but I thought I'd make it sound like a good thing."

Their laughter cracked in half, and they broke into inanimate mode when the zipper drew back, revealing Mackenzie, smiling with smug satisfaction at her prizes. She clutched Woody in one hand and began speaking to him in a hushed tone as her mother drove, "You're too cool to belong to Bonnie. I think she said your name was Woody."

Mackenzie reached into the backpack and grabbed Dolly. "Are you his girlfriend? You look like you should be."

Well, Dolly thought. This couldn't get any more awkward.

"Y'know, I think you two are battle warriors, in love and fighting for your country."

And it just did.

For the next fifteen minutes of the drive, Woody and Dolly acted that out. What shocked them even more than the storyline was Mackenzie's overwhelmingly violent vocabulary, as she had Woody and Dolly shoot guns out the windows, attack invisible ninjas with swords, and karate-chop villains to dust.

"Mackenzie, come on inside so you can do your homework." Mackenzie's mother, a woman who appeared to be more coffee than human, opened the car door for her daughter. "And no playing with the toys until after it's done."

"Aw, but mom!"

"Don't be fresh, young lady."

Mackenzie scowled. "Fine." Grabbing Woody, Dolly, and her backpack, she muttered her whole way into the house, threw her backpack up on the table, and tossed Woody and Dolly into a cotton-candy pink bedroom fit for the snarkiest of princesses. The door slammed shut behind her.

As soon as the door clicked closed, Dolly burst up, Woody following, calling out, "Uh, hello?"

Nothing.

Minutes passed.

Dolly stood up against the fluffed-and-puffed bedspread, dusting herself off from their imaginary fight. "Maybe they're afraid of strangers."

"I don't think that's it. Look around." Woody motioned to the bubblegum walls of the room, the pristine dresser, the stereo and posters of bands, the frilled pillows and school books. Not a single element of playtime lay in the simple space.

Woody and Dolly had stumbled upon the only child they had ever met who didn't own a single toy.