Soli Deo gloria

DISCLAIMER: I do NOT own Mulan.

*peeps head up from under rock* Hello, fanfiction readers. I am not dead. But you've heard that a few times before. You've also heard the excuse of being busy having a job and having a life off the Internet and stuff. And, I've been procrastinating. Procrastinating is a big one. *shoves fanfic out into the open and quickly hides back in hole under rock, all in less than two seconds*

This story came from thinking: What made Mushu shoot off a cannon in the supply wagon? *waves and gestures at the story as an answer to this question*

The ride in the supply wagon was significantly rockier and colder than either Mushu or Cri-Kee had anticipated. Having lived in the southern region of China all their lives, this was a definite temperature drop, to be suddenly thrust into the snow-covered mountains of the northern region.

The dragon and the cricket sat side by side amongst the cannons, gun powder, flint, weapons, and camp supplies. Cold wind blew through the cracks of the wagon. The gun powder sat in barrels covered in blankets, to protect them from getting wet. But there was no such comfort to be given these guardians against the cold.

"Man, it's frickin' freezin' in there. I'll be lucky to make it through this war without my tail being frozen off," Mushu complained. He could barely speak; his chattering teeth almost overwhelmed his words.

Cri-Kee, his little legs folded over his body to keep warm, could only nod and chirp sadly.

"Oh, I wanna go home. The guardians might've picked on me and demoted me and treated me as their slave, but at least it was warm there. Remind me to never complain about the family gardens again, right, Cri-Kee?" Mushu said to his companion.

Cri-Kee could barely peep.

Mushu grunted as he stood up; cracking his back, he said, "Well, maybe if I get my bones and my blood movin', I can somehow not freeze to death." He walked to the front of the wagon and opened a wee compartment to look outside; across the uneven snow were the footprints of many armor-clad, tired soldiers. Their cheerful marching had been instantly sobered by the sight of the torched village of ashes. Gone was the spring in their steps that the idea of beautiful girls had given them; instead, a heavy cloud of sadness and respect for their dead brothers hung over every soldier, including their girl. She held onto Kahn's reins, leading him along as he pulled the heavy wagon forward.

Mushu, of course, ignored the heavy sight of the soldiers and said, his paw to his mouth, "Hey, psst, Kahn. Mrs. Cow? Hellooooooo?"

Mulan either didn't hear him or just ignored him; however, Kahn bristled and turned his sharp eyes over his shoulder at the offending dragon. He nickered, demanding an explanation for the interruption.

"Man, how much longer? I'm turning into a pretty little snowflake back there. Are we there yet? Any Huns in sight? Anything, man?"

Kahn scolded him and quickly brought his heavy head back to face the road ahead. He focused on driving forward; he would help Mulan, but it took all that was in him to not stomp her little companion into a little red splatter into the snow.

Mushu narrowed his eyes and said, "What reassurance from our driver." He closed the little door and walked back across the wagon bed to where Cri-Kee had shrunk into himself so much he was barely a speck. "News from our pilot: the journey is going swimmingly. Troop morale is down, the mountain is only going to get rockier, freezing into tiny little statues is imminent, and there AIN'T NO END IN SIGHT!" Mushu waved his arms around. He sighed and flopped into a pile of limbs against a cannon. "We ain't never gonna stop walking. We ain't never gonna make a fire and get warm. We ain't never gettin' out of here." In frustration, he blew a raspberry. His tongue didn't swizzle out like a lizard, though; instead, a little bit of forked fire came sizzling out.

Mushu's eyes widened; Cri-Kee sat up, a little bit of hope in his eyes.

"Well, did I hit my head or somethin'? How could I forget about my fire?!" Mushu said ecstatically. He jumped up and blew a steady little stream down his arms and legs. He even rubbed some on his back. Being fireproof, it didn't burn through his tough scales. Instead, it sent thick warmth into him.

He sighed happily and said, "I'mma make a little campfire for us." Cri-Kee, alarmed, stood up. The hope is his eyes had died. He watched as Mushu whistled cheerfully to himself as he cleared the center of the wagon. He was enraptured with his genius plan, so he, of course, didn't realize that setting fire to the center of a moving wagon full of explosives was clearly not the greatest idea.

Cri-Kee hopped over to him and shook his head hurriedly at Mushu; Mushu, holding an armful of little pieces of wood he'd pulled from a box of rice, said, "Oh, stop your worryin', Cri-Kee. This is my greatest idea since we used a panda as a horse. Now move." Cri-Kee stood up on his spindly back legs and waved his arms in his way, blocking the way to his little already-started pile of wood splinters. "Cri-Kee, I ain't fightin' with you right now on this. Now move your little buggy butt before I make you go ride, outside, on the cow."

Cri-Kee wouldn't relent; he had two goals in life: to survive, and to help Mulan. Stopping Mushu from making a big, stupid mistake accomplished both of these goals.

"Cri-Kee, stop playin' and move!"

Cri-Kee, for once, was an obstinate little thing.

Mushu, annoyed, sprayed a little red-hot fire at the cricket. Cri-Kee, instead of squealing and jumping out of the way, instead rested his little feet in the sparks, absorbing their warm and extinguishing them at the same time. To make Mushu even more annoyed, he smiled cheerfully.

Mushu, now a little more than just a little ticked off, dropped his wood and rolled up the skin on his arms. "All right, Cri-Kee. Now you're just beggin' for it!" He spat little bombs of sparks and rolling flames at the little dude. Cri-Kee now squeaked from the burning pain and put his first two little legs over his head; he ran, trying to escape the anger of a burned Mushu.

"Hold still, you little sidekick! This is what you get for trying to stop me! Wait until Mulan hears about this!" Mushu yelled at him.

Cri-Kee could barely hear him; he was too focused on launching himself out of Mushu's way. He scrambled over boxes of dried noodles and bamboo and soybeans. He almost landed himself into a bottle of soy sauce that had somehow lost its lid. He hid behind woks; Mushu blew heat onto them so that they became a boiling hot cage. Cri-Kee chirped and squealed as his back legs burned from a stray spark.

"You're feelin' the heat now, Cri-Kee!" Mushu yelled.

Cri-Kee hurried away and wrapped his arms around the thick bottom of a dragon-headed cannon. Surely Mushu wouldn't try to get hit him here.

Mushu didn't think; he was only focused on getting Cri-Kee. So he blew a little hot lightning rod at the cannon; Cri-Kee yelped, his little buggy paws getting singed.

Mushu had hit the cannon's line that led to the gun powder hidden in it. The cannon's top blew off, punching a cracked hole through the front of the wagon. It flew into the cold, white air in front of Kahn and exploded like a fantastic New Year's firework in the winter sky with a loud KA-BOOM!

The entire troop of soldiers stopped, surprised; Mulan threw the two a reproaching glare.

Mushu and Cri-Kee, who ten seconds earlier had been alive and jumping with kinetic energy as fierce enemies, now stood side by side as still as the statues in the Fa family gardens.

Mulan's face told them no explanation was good enough to justify what they just did.

Both were frozen with cold horror, despite now being warmer than a sun-tan would've given them. It was all that Mushu could do to point a finger at his companion, to try to shift the blame off himself and onto Cri-Kee.

Like Mulan believed him innocent at all.

XD. Thanks for reading! Review?