cookie731

Better or Worse

2008-04-29T21:55:18Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

Unfortunately I do not own Tin Man or any of the characters from the mini series. Nor do I own the original by Frank L. Baum. Some of the characters here in, are of my own makings. I'm sure you'll be able to tell the difference.

General Info:

Rated R

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.
Rating has changed... beware!

Better or Worse Chapter 10

Better or Worse Chapter 1
Better or Worse Chapter 2
Better or Worse Chapter 3
Better or Worse Chapter 4
Better or Worse Chapter 5
Better or Worse Chapter 6
Better or Worse Chapter 7
Better or Worse Chapter 8
Better or Worse Chapter 9

Better or Worse

2008-04-29T21:36:16Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated R

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.

Chapter 10

***

"Regret for the things we did can be tempered with time; it is regret for the things we did not do that is inconsolable." -- Sydney J. Harris

***

The sound of her heartbeat echoed in her ears, all other noises forgotten or ignored as DG rushed through the long corridors of the palace. Even the pain radiating out of her abused hip did not register in her thoughts. She was so focused on her destination nothing else mattered, her physical pain least of all.

Her father's face danced in front of her eyes, cold and pale and practically lifeless, in sharp contrast to her first memory of him. In the TP Ahamo used as a home while in exile he had been so full of energy and mirth, she wanted to see him that way again. He appeared to have fallen attempting to enter the palace, his legs covering the lower steps while his torso covered those above. Bruises and gashes coated his arms and what could be seen of the skin through the slashes in his shirt and pants. The man fought hard and she prayed to any God in existence, he would continue to fight to stay alive. If they were really so much alike she knew he would. They were no quitters.

The outside had been utterly void of life, so completely barren, with the exception of her father. There had to be more people here when he was injured leaving only one possible location for them to be. A deep feeling of dread seeped into her veins at what she would find within the walls.

It was not until she reached the third hall on the second story that she finally stopped her ascent, battling for every breath her lungs took. DG slid to a halt, staggering back at the sight greeting her and she had to brace her hand against the wall to remain upright. The trepidation she felt upon entering the castle came to be realized, but there was no way she could have foreseen such absolute carnage.

The bodies of guards were strewn over the floor, a carpet of congealed blood beneath them; their faces pale with open and vacant eyes staring straight ahead yet focusing on nothing. Guns flung about or still gripped tightly in the hands of the departed. Gashes disfigured much of their bodies, their faces marred by bruises and the fear of death. The smell of gunpowder was still on the air, the taste of sulfur landing heavily on her tongue.

Her stomach lurched, emptying its minimal contents along the base of the wall she leaned on for support. Someone pulled her hair out of her face, holding it behind her head and away from the regurgitated food. Soon her stomach was evacuated, becoming painful dry heaves when there was nothing left to force out. The man holding her hair rubbed soothing circles on her back in a useless attempt to ease her suffering.

When her body calmed DG hastily wiped her mouth on the sleeve of her shirt, not caring that the two men saw her at her weakest. Starting forward again, she ripped her body out of the grasp of the person who gave her assistance. No thank yous; no look of gratitude; she didn't even glance to see which one came to her aide. Sheer adrenaline was pushing her on, keeping her attention ahead.

Carefully DG stepped between the bodies, some were guards clothed in their royal garb, the dark maroon fabric concealing some of the bright bodily fluids from her sight. She would never look at a uniformed man the same again. And some of the men were dressed in dark brown and grey clothing resembling those the resistance wore prior to the eclipse. She could only assume they were the enemy.

The hardened blood cracked with the pressure from her sneakers, which she would throw out immediately upon finding alternate footwear.

One face in the sea of death caught her attention and she squatted beside his lifeless body. Rin, her bodyguard, was among the deceased. His torso, in a seated position along the wall where he apparently slipped down to take his place amongst his comrades in arms, left a gruesome trail of red above. Eyes open and empty in total disparity to the warm, tender looks he gave in life made the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end and the blood drain from her face.

Tears fell from her blue pools to moisten the cloth covering her legs and his legs, and the red marble of the flooring which was formerly white. Reaching out a shaky hand she attempted to close his lids only to find them stiff and unyielding. They would have to remain open.

As bile began to rise in her throat once more she bolted upright and down the hall with a fevered pace, hand clamped firmly over her mouth to keep from both retching and screaming herself hoarse. The whole of the guard had to be strewn about these corridors; hundreds upon hundreds of bodies blocking their path as they weaved through the palace of casualties.

It took three more halls and two sets of stairs to get to her destination. Throwing open the doors to the Queen's study her hand dropped to her side and she let loose another horrific scream.

The Queen lay half on, half off the settee and there was no denying she was gone. Guards surrounded her; one was the Captain who lay across the legs of his ruler, gun in one hand while the other was wrapped in a strangle hold on a dead foe.

Lunging forward she cradled her mother much the same as she did her father just a few moments earlier, but this time anguish triumphed relief.

Rocking back and forth, DG's one arm supported her mother's shoulders while her other hand brushed through her white-laced tresses.

"No, no, no, no, no..." her mantra was unending, shaking her head in utter denial. "She's just asleep," she whispered.

"Two little princesses..." her voice quivered and shook as she sung the lullaby her mother had used to lull them to sleep as children. "Dancing in a row..." her chest hitched horribly as a sob tore from her lips. "Spinning fast and freely..." the tears streaming from her eyes flooded the pale cheeks of the woman in her arms. "On their little toes..."

The sound of footsteps went unheard as Jeb and Robbie slowly approached the grief-stricken girl.

"Wake up, Mother," DG pleaded, her words wobbling. "Sing me the rest, make this all go away..." she ordered as desperation took over. "Make it all a terrible dream."

Wrapping his arms around her chest, Robbie attempted to pull DG away. She began shrieking and holding tighter to the body covering her. It took Jeb taking hold of the Queen and Robbie pulling on DG, prying at her fingers, to extract her from her death grip... for that is exactly what it was.

Whirling around suddenly, DG clung to Robbie as if her life depended on it, weeping into his chest as he tried to console her with a gentle hand to her back and fingers through her hair.

"This can’t be happening," she sobbed through her tears. "I never said... never told her... she doesn't know I love her," DG spluttered as her knees gave out and the two of them sunk to the floor. "I should've stayed... why did I leave?"

"DG," Jeb prodded, barely audible.

Removing one hand from its fierce clutch on the back of Robbie's shirt she wiped fruitlessly at the torrential downpour of tears on her cheeks. Cocking her head to the side, though not moving one step away from his protective embrace, DG looked at Jeb. He was holding up an object from his kneeling position next to her mother.

"It was in her hand... does it mean anything to you?" he asked quietly. Blinking back the moisture from her eyes she cleared her vision enough to see the object. A palm sized stone in the shape of a heart.

Pushing off of Robbie's chest she quickly snatched the special stone from Jeb wondering, fleetingly, how she managed to retrieve it from its watery grave. Pressing it to her lips she flung it across the room as if she were skimming the stone across the surface of the lake. It bounced five times, gold ripples oozing out from each place of impact.

Robbie gasped in surprise when the shimmering ringlets emerged out of nothingness.

"Look," Jeb exclaimed, pointing toward the mirror on the opposite side of the room. With wide eyes they watched in awe as it began to gleam, the image of the Queen appearing in its depths. Neither of the men could believe their eyes, they had not been around during the first trek into Finaqua when her image materialized in the gazebo.

All save DG were slack-jawed and motionless. DG moved warily to the holographic picture of her loved one, similar to her approach in the gazebo. This time she was not surprised by the manifestation, she was too drained and raw to admire the magical display.

"My darlings..." the reflection of the Queen began. "If you are receiving this then I did not survive the attack on the palace." Her face was somber and she wore the same blue gown as she had when she passed away. It only made DG believe she recorded this message just before her death.

"Ahamo," she purred. "I love you so dearly. Do not blame yourself, as I do not." The eyes of the woman in the mirror began to water with emotion she so rarely displayed. "You need to take care of our girls. I sent a travel storm for DG but I had it leave her in a different part of the OZ for her protection. They know where she is living and I could not in good conscious leave her there unaware and vulnerable."

DG gasped in surprise. While she was sure it was not some freak accident the tornado just happened to cross their path, she had no idea her mother was the one responsible. So the Queen, to keep her daughter safe, dropped her in the middle of the papay fields instead of bringing her to the palace where she might have been of some aide. Even though she was inexperienced with her magic she knew she would be able to call on it if the need were there. Once again someone looking out for her life, her wellbeing, lead to so many deaths.

Now her Kansas friends were in danger as well. Her stomach churned again with the thought of her friends being brought into the mayhem by mistake.

"My Azkadellia," her mother cut through her musings. "I trust Ambrose got you away from the palace before the raid. He will protect you, of that I'm certain." A tentative sigh of relief was erratically expelled from DG's lungs. Her sister and Glitch were likely alive. That was something.

"None of this is your fault, my pretty one. Do not give yourself up to these people for any reason. That is my last command for you." So it was Az they were after, not that it surprised DG. But she thought things would have calmed down some, not escalated to such immense proportions.

"My Angel..." and DG lost the tenuous hold on her emotions with the tender nickname her mother used so frequently in their brief time together after the eclipse. Now she would only have this recording as a reminder. Her chest hitched again and her bloodshot eyes burned as the last of her tears escaped.

"I tried to get you as close to the village where the Cains dwell as I could, in the hope they would have heard about the attack and would protect you." So, it was not a coincidence the first village they arrived at housed Cain. She heard Jeb shuffle uncomfortably next to her but did not turn to see him, focusing all her attention on the image of her mother.

"I fear these men might try to take you in order to get your sister to give herself up. As you have heard, I have forbidden Az from doing so." The Queen's face contorted in pain. "I cannot trade one daughter for the other. I hope you understand. You must be careful."

DG did understand. She, too, would not want Az trading her own life to save the life of her sister. There was already too much blood on her hands.

"Together, I know you will discover a way to stop this turmoil." her mother continued. "Find each other. Protect each other. Love each other. I will always be with you, my darlings, as long as you remember me." DG's heart ached as her mother's image began to fade.

Scrambling across the room DG picked up the stone heart from the corner where it landed. Flinging it back across the floor toward her two companions she rushed for the mirror, watching her mother appear for a second time. Desperately she clutched the sides of the floor length mirror for support, eyes trained on her mother. She watched, not really listening to the words as much as listening to the sound of her voice. Tentatively she reached out trembling fingers to run over the mouth and jaw of the echo of her mother wavering in the reflective glass, smudging wet fingerprints onto the cool surface.

After she watched a total of four times, Robbie snatched the stone from its resting place before she could retrieve it for a fifth viewing. Pocketing the recording device, knowing she had seen enough, he braced himself for anger that never came. When she went in search of the stone the last time, noticing it was gone, she eyed Robbie who patted the side of his leg wear he placed the object. A simple nod was the only response he received as she knelt down next to her mother once more, kissing her forehead tenderly.

"Please help me..." she pleaded, not looking up from the face of her mother as she put her arms under the lifeless ones. In an instant DG was maneuvered aside as Jeb took her place, Robbie picking up her feet.

"We have to bury her properly..." DG wheezed. "She deserves that much."

Silently the three traversed back through the tomb of the palace, the men holding fast to the Queen as they followed lethargically behind the Princess. All were lost in thought, each trying to come to terms with all they had seen and heard since they crossed the barrier of the maze.

Nothing would ever be the same.

They could only hope to stop the fighting before more lives were lost.

Red Challenge Award

2008-04-28T23:54:43Z

tm_challenge

RED

I'm so happy!!! Thank you to all who voted for me.

To win 3rd place against some pretty impressive storys leaves me all a tingle.

Better or Worse

2008-04-28T21:33:16Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Better or Worse Chapter 9

Better or Worse

2008-04-28T21:23:57Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions. As always, thank you for taking time to read my story.

Chapter 9

***

"Alone we can do so little; together we can do so much." -- Helen Keller

***

Their departure was anything but comfortable. It was awkward and dismal for nearly everyone involved, Del probably the only one who was immune to the sadness.

DG and Del had their wounds checked, cleaned and bandaged again by Patty who gave them extra stores to keep their injuries from getting infected. It was still painful, though not nearly as bad as the previous day. She also supplied them with some mild painkillers, which DG took gratefully hoping it would alleviate some of her hip throbbing and forced Del to do the same.

As they distributed the gear into five identical piles -- for DG and Fran insisted on carrying their equal share, none of this chivalry nonsense -- they had to sit and watch Jeb say goodbye to Patty. Apparently they were far more than friends if their lip-lock was any indication.

Fran paled considerably at the sight, knowing her crush would never come to fruition after witnessing that display. She tried to give DG a smile, but it was a halfhearted attempt to put up a front, and DG didn't buy it for one second. The lone comfort was at least Fran found out early and not after she decided to make the OZ her permanent residence.

The only other thought going through DG's usually overcrowded brain was now both of them would be miserable. And as much as misery loves company she hoped Fran would get over the hurt better than she.

Damn the Cain men to hell!

And miserable wouldn't even begin to describe her feelings as they headed out of town, Wyatt Cain nowhere to be seen. Her heart was so low it was in her toes. He never insisted on joining the journey, never even came to see them off and his son was among the small troupe. She could only assume they said their goodbyes privately, but who knew anymore.

As they ambled on their way, the town disappearing behind them, DG decided she had enough of moping around. It would not do for her to make the others uncomfortable and she could at least pretend to be at ease for their benefit. Without a look back she plastered a phony smile on her face -- one she thought they would buy -- and began to quiz Jeb on the past annual and a half.

"So, Jeb," she broke the complex stillness, "how long have you been living in that town?"

He slowed his stride so he was walking next to her, her hip emanating a sickening popping sound every couple steps though he took no notice. Perhaps only she heard it.

"We moved there right after leaving the palace," he replied, glancing at her out of the corner of his eye. "We found a handful of families, or what was left of them," he shuddered a little, leaving a pregnant pause as he remembered the missing kin of each group. "They were building the town and we decided to help."

Shrugging his shoulders, he turned his head to look her straight on. "We had to live somewhere, right? Thought putting down roots with the others would make it more comfortable for us as we got to know one another again." Jeb went back to facing forward. "Having buffers."

Ok, time for lighter conversation.

"How long have you and Patty been together?"

There was no stopping the smile gracing his face at the mention of his girl. It was as if the suns were shining out of his eyes instead of into them. He had it bad for her, that much was obvious.

"A few months."

"Mmmhmm..." she purred, watching him closely. "And how serious is it?"

A blush began to creep up the neck and cheeks of her walking companion, his ears turning a delectable shade of pink at her question.

Fran walked up along her other side. DG was surprised to see her smiling and she had to give her friend credit. Only Fran would be able to either mask her feelings so well or shove them into a dark corner for later retrospection. Maybe she would get through this easier than expected.

"That goodbye kiss was pretty darn impressive," Fran teased, her smile still fixed across her lips, and it was genuine.

The girls were just noticing his face going even fierier as Del's healthy arm wrapped around Jeb's neck. Squeezing and mussing his hair in the same motion Del let out a guttural laugh.

"Nothing wrong with that m'boy," Del said lowly in his best imitation of his former football coach. "She's quite the catch. Would've gone for her m'self." Releasing his hold quickly, he shoved the young man sideways causing Jeb to bounce off DG's shoulder and -- thankfully -- her good hip. Both girls were reduced to giggles at the incredulous look on the former resistance fighter's face.

"Yeah, well..." he began only to falter. "You'll keep you're hands off my future wife if you know what's good for you."

DG stopped walking, frozen in place in her shock. With little contemplation her face lit up in excitement as she pounced on their self-appointed guard. Hugging him fiercely she squealed like a schoolgirl.

"Oh, that's so wonderful!" DG exclaimed as she clung to Jeb's shoulders. "Where's the wedding? Have you set a date? What're Ozian ceremonies like? Will there be a reception? Where'll you go on your honeymoon? Do you have honeymoons? How did you..."

"DG, geez!" Robbie interrupted. "Give him a break. One question at a time." He pulled DG off her prey and gave the other man an apologetic look at her outburst.

Jeb chuckled lightly at the spectacle -- DG eyeing up Robbie like he'd formally insulted her and Robbie shaking his head and trying to contain his laughter at the insatiable girl.

"We want to get married as the weather begins to cool," he responded to one of her questions. "No set date or location for either the ceremony or the honeymoon, and yes, we have honeymoons though I'm not sure how similar they are to what your used to." Jeb gave a small shrug of his shoulders as a physical interpretation of his words.

"The ceremony is short and small, usually attended by just the family and closest friends," he sighed at this and looked at DG again. "We don't have much family. Both her parents were killed during the Sorceress's coup so all she has left is a brother, and then there is my father. Wouldn't make for much of a celebration." His face fell at the thought and she could see the sadness behind his eyes.

Reaching out DG grasped his hand tightly in hers, squeezing it reassuringly.

"Why don't you have the ceremony in the gardens at Finaqua? It'll be beautiful at the change of the season." She saw Jeb's face brighten at her offer.

"Are you sure?" he asked hesitantly.

"Of course," she answered. "I know my family would love such a wonderful reason to party down," she added with a raised eyebrow and a muffled giggle.

Jeb thought for a moment as they started walking again. "Only one condition," he said as he watched her intently.

Her brow furrowed having no idea what kind of condition there could be.

"The four of you have to come back to attend the wedding. It would do us a great honor to have you there."

DG gulped knowing it would be excruciatingly uncomfortable to go to such a happy event and have to see Cain in the process. But this was for Jeb and he deserved all the happiness he could get after everything he sacrificed.

Looking at the faces of her Kansas friends they all silently agreed.

"We would be honored."

-----

Upon emerging from the maze into Finaqua's luscious green gardens and blue lakes two days later she was struck with the realization their journey had been rather uneventful. The toughest portion was their original departure, which was merely emotional discomfort, and the start of their conversations with Jeb which eased to a friendly banter within the first few hours.

Both DG and Jeb were shocked they didn't run into any trouble, hell, they didn't run into another living soul. While it should have been reassuring to arrive unhindered and unharmed it left her feeling anxious, to say the least. Something was amiss, and by the way Jeb held himself --- straight and tall, hand clutching the hilt of his gun, eyes scanning the surrounding area -- it was obvious he felt it, too.

There were no guards waiting, no one in sight as they cautiously traversed the ground between the maze and the palace. Even her friends from Kansas were feeling the pressure as the silence deafened them all.

It was DG who finally broke the heady peace with a shrill cry causing everyone's blood to run cold. In a flash her sneakers were pounding against the dirt path as she made for the front entrance, screaming and crying all the while. Her words were incoherent but that didn't matter, they knew she was in pain and all of them rushed to follow.

When their eyes finally fell on the reason for her outburst, Fran, too, screamed, Robbie and Del gasping in surprise, and Jeb yelling for her to stop to no avail.

Throwing herself on the marble stairs she clutched the shoulders of the prone body sprawled across the cold stone. Turning the man into her arms she cradled his neck in the crook of her elbow as she brushed some of the wavy blonde hair off his pale face. Trembling she leaned down so her ear was level with his mouth, her fingers working over his neck for a pulse.

She cried and cried, his face damp with her tears as she rocked him back and forth oblivious to the four people now standing in front of them.

"He's alive," she whispered. "He's alive, he's alive, he's alive," became her mantra. While she was still clearly upset there was a part of her face that visibly relaxed the more she said those words.

Del reached out a hand placing it on her shoulder. "DG?" he prodded, not knowing what to say.

"He's my father," she said, her voice watery and faint. For the first time the title didn't feel alien on her tongue. He was her father. She had so many of his traits, his mannerisms and passions and in that instant she was finally longing to get to know the man better only to realize she was almost too late.

Looking up at them imploringly, she motioned to Fran to come forward, her friend not hesitating in the slightest. When she sat down on the other side of the rocking duo DG carefully transferred her father to Fran's awaiting arms.

"I have to find the rest of my family." It was soft but brooked no argument. Wiping the tears from her face she wasted no time bounding up the stairs and into the palace, Robbie and Jeb following in her wake.

Better or Worse

2008-04-19T00:41:19Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Better or Worse: Chapter 1

Better or Worse Chapter 2

Better or Worse Chapter 3

Better or Worse Chapter 4

Better or Worse Chapter 5

Better or Worse Chapter 6

Better or Worse Chapter 7

Better or Worse Chapter 8

Better or Worse

2008-04-19T00:38:53Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 8

***

"Waste not fresh tears over old griefs." --Euripides

***

The walk back to town took longer than she expected. Actually it was more like a hobble due to the severe pain shooting out of her hip. While the hobble was partly responsible for the slow return to the village, she had also traveled a great deal farther than she realized. It seemed even with an out of order leg she managed to evade Cain's capture better than anyone could have imagined.

DG refused to look a gift horse in the mouth. Using the extra time and sheer solitude wisely, she thought long and hard about her next course of action. In the end, after weighing out all her options, she came to a decision just before reentering the medical building.

Staying in this town would do none of them any good, her least of all. Owing it to her friends to try to get them back to Kansas as soon as possible it was exactly what she would do. So, after a decent night's rest and a warm meal they would gather the necessities and head off for Finaqua. With any luck the people of the village would accommodate them with food provisions, the return of Robbie's rifle, and three extra bed rolls. There was no doubt in her mind the townsfolk would be compensated for their compassion and generosity by the royal family upon their arrival in lake country.

Crossing the threshold of the house she found her friends seated on the cots, talking animatedly in the far corner near the desk. She was happy to see Del sitting up, and while he looked pale, the smile plastered across his face was a site for sore eyes.

Fran was the first to notice her entrance and quickly waved her over to the group. Face lit up with a smile and eyes twinkling in the light of the oil lamp on the desk she still looked as radiant as ever. There was something new about the woman she couldn't quite put her finger on, but she was sure she'd find out soon enough.

When Robbie lifted his head to see who Fran was gesturing to, he smiled warmly making her stomach churn in response. It was unbelievable how understanding the young man was being toward her feelings. And the restraint he had over his own emotions was remarkable. It left her feeling rather weak and heartless given her recent actions.

She made herself physically comfortable next to Del who slung his good arm over her shoulders, pulling her into his side. He was always adept at soothing with a touch even when he was oblivious to the need. Given her emotional distress it was something to cherish.

Now it was time to broach the subject of leaving this all too empty town, where things felt weird on so many different levels.

"I think we should head out in the morning," DG stated softly, looking each of her companions in the eye in turn, "if everyone feels up to it. The sooner we get to Finaqua the sooner I can get us back to Kansas."

While her eyes were fixed on Fran, in her peripheral vision she could see Robbie scrunch up his brow when she mentioned her return to the Other Side. He probably assumed she'd stay behind with Cain. Fat chance! Cain said he'd find her when, more likely if, he ever came to his senses. Surprisingly enough, she believed him. Whether DG was in Finaqua, Central City, Kansas, or on Mars, it mattered little. If the time came he would track down her location like a dog with a bone. Therefore, she might as well be where she felt the most happy in the interim.

"What if we don't want to go back?" Fran interjected.

DG visibly blanched at the admission. Never in a million years would she expect any of them to want to stay in this war torn monstrosity of a nation, Fran least of all. But there it was, out in the open for all to hear.

"You've barely been here a day," she pointed out, waving her hand in the air towards the window on her right, "seen a dead orchard and a fairly empty village." DG sighed through her nose in exasperation. This was not how she thought the conversation would go. Who would have guessed she would have to convince them of the positives of living in Kansas when the negatives of this place were so glaringly obvious. "What about this place could possibly appeal to you so much you would forsake your family... your life back home?"

The blush covering the cheeks of her friend said it all... there was a boy involved. And if DG knew anything she knew the appeal of a Cain man and to her horror she realized they were most definitely Fran's type.

Not that type would really matter when it came to them. Who wouldn't fall for a ruggedly handsome man? A man who gave off the impression of being a badass while all along having a heart of gold was the best of both worlds. The rebel meets the boy next door.

Therefore, since the elder Cain had barely been around since their arrival in this godforsaken town, it was not hard to figure out who was responsible. By process of elimination, Jeb Cain had wormed his way into her friend’s heart in the span of a few short hours.

Damn them and their ability to make even the smartest women swoon.

"I'm not going to force you to go home," DG relinquished. "If you want to stay here you're entitled to." If her friends decided to stay in this backward world who was she to say no. But they had to realize the ramifications of such a serious decision. "Just know you can't decide to return to Kansas on a whim. It requires magic only the royal family possesses and I highly doubt they'll drop everything to send you home again."

Fran frowned. It was apparent she never considered being stuck here, especially since she was the friend of the Princess. Then again, the Princess was returning to the Other Side, so to the rest of the royals she was nothing more than another outsider.

"I'll travel with you to the palace," Fran acquiesced. "I'll let you know what I decide when we get there."

"Fair enough," God she wished she could leave it at that. "Anyone else have a change of heart?" DG asked the two men, holding her breath assuming the worst. When they both shrugged in unison she released her pent up air, and tension, slowly through her nose.

"Fine then," Thank God! "We'll all go to Finaqua and choose our individual paths once we're there."

They nodded in agreement.

"Don't think you're traveling there on your own," a voice cut through the silence. Jeb Cain was leaning against the door frame, arms crossed over his chest, and just as stoic as his father. The apple didn't fall far from the tree.

DG inhaled deeply suppressing the urge to roll her eyes. She was far from an invalid, completely capable of taking care of the four of them and resented the implication otherwise. She could do this on her own, wanted to do this on her own because having him on the journey would wind up causing Fran to suffer more doubts about where to call home. If she could spare her friend the heartache she was experiencing she would, no matter what the cost.

"I won't be alone," she stated without the slightest bit of emotion, inclining her head in the direction of her companions.

"No offense," he stated, "but there are more dangers out there than you realize, especially for a Princess. And while they may be great guards on the Other Side they'll need to learn a thing or two about the OZ before they should be escorting our Princess around."

It took all her restraint to stop from spouting obscenities at his comments. Del and Robbie were far from being her bodyguards and she managed to escape a coffin and melt a witch without a male stepping in to assist. How chauvinistic could you get? It seems the OZ was stuck in fifties United States even though they were ruled by a Queen with magical powers. Talk about a paradox!

However, she knew from experience arguing her point would fall on deaf ears when dealing with a Cain man, so why bother.

"Whatever," she mumbled under her breath. "Are you offering your services?"

"Yes I am, Princess," he answered, bowing slightly at the waist.

"Then we'll need to get one thing straight," she grumbled as she stood and walked over to him. "There will be no bowing, tipping of hats, calling me Princess or Your Highness or Your Majesty. I'm DG, plain and simple." She started poking him in the chest much like she had earlier in the evening with his ancestor. "If you can't handle that then you're not coming."

Jeb held up his hands in mock surrender and smiled that wonderful Cain smile. Damn it! It could melt a diamond.

"As you wish... Princess," he started chuckling. "Sorry, had to get a last one in."

Once his company was established they talked about provisions and were glad to hear the village would provide more than what was necessary. Soon they were starting to nod off and Jeb took his leave of the group as the four remaining people claimed cots for their temporary bed.

DG was drifting off to sleep with mixed emotions. Part of her was disappointed Cain had not volunteered his expertise for their journey. He was, after all, the best man for the job having escorted her safely to Finaqua during a much darker time. However, she also felt a weight lifted off her shoulders knowing she wouldn't have to see him every day wondering if he had come to his senses yet. And DG was flooded with relief that he would have to bear the knowledge of her traipsing off into the wilderness without him there to protect her. She could only hope it would eat him up inside.

Better or Worse

2008-04-18T23:57:24Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 7

***

"It is easier to forgive an enemy than to forgive a friend." -- William Blake

***

"Hold on!" Cain commanded, his head and shoulders hanging over the precipice, one hand clutching the crumbling corner while the other held tightly to her hand.

DG clung to Cain's hand with one of her smaller ones, sweaty and slick with moisture, slipping more with every moment her body hung there. Stretching out her feet she tried to find a ledge on which to place her weight but could find none. The wall was rocky but devastatingly flat.

"Cain..." she begged, looking up into his strained face, contorted with the effort of keeping her from falling. "Don't let go!"

She was scared, more scared than she thought she should be. After all, she'd been in a similar predicament on the night of the eclipse. Flying backwards, she tumbled head over feet, fingers just skimming the ledge of the balcony, feet dangling in the emptiness below.

But this felt different. Back then she had said her goodbyes to her friends, just in case. She had been prepared to meet her maker. Now though, she just finished a rant, and while it was totally justified, it would make for horrible last words.

Reaching up with her free hand she grabbed hold of his outstretched wrist, pulling her body up higher. Once her shoulders were even with Cain's hand she released his wrist, clutching at the corner of the cliff wall, knuckles white from the struggle. As soon as her hand found purchase she used this new position to elevate her body further, surprised at the strength of her muscles. Cain stretched out his other arm to grasp the waistband of her pants, heaving her skyward.

Thrust onto solid ground, DG crawled on hands and knees away from the summit, collapsing face first onto the grass. Her breath was ragged, both from exerting herself physically and the nervous tension deep in her core. That certainly was one way to put an abrupt end to their argument, though she could have done without the near death experience. DG knew her energy was all but spent and she had none left to mount a defense against the justifications Cain was sure to mount.

It was only a matter of moments before her torso was being lifted off the spongy grass, her head placed firmly in the crook of Cain's shoulder. His hand was running through her hair, his chest heaving in unison with her own. She clung to the lapels of his trench with one hand while the other had the back of the same duster twisted in her fingers. He smelled so good; so unbelievingly, heart-stoppingly, good.

Only when his lips grazed her forehead did she snap back to reality. With a burst of speed, she pushed herself out of Cain's embrace scooting away, not caring that her backside would surely gather stains from the movement. Before she had gone too far Cain grabbed hold of her knees, preventing her from further escape.

"DG, we don't want a repeat of a few minutes ago." It was a good-natured, playful statement, which was demonstrated by the cockeyed grin he wore.

DG stared at that grin, a grin seen so often in her dreams it made her want to pinch herself just to be sure she was truly awake. Goosebumps rose against her flushed skin as his eyes raked down her body. She could only assume he was checking to see if she had done herself any further injury but it still made her feel utterly feminine and completely exposed. The pale yellow blouse she wore, dirt smudged and torn, had seen better days and her jean capri pants were no better. And this time she had no jacket to conceal the messiness.

When his eyes finally locked with hers she noticed the hard swallow he took. "You have to hear me out."

She could just have easily replied with... "I don't have to do anything," but it would have only made matters worse. The frenzied whisper, so out of character for Cain, caused her to slouch in defeat when she finally gave in to his request.

"Fine," she muttered, eyes focused on the hands wrapped around her jean-clad knees, her fingers busily pulling out the grass on either side of her legs. It was the last thing in the world she wanted. To be thrust back to the worst days of her life, to relive the hurt she felt when he told her goodbye and left her standing there with the remains of her broken heart. Unbearable didn't even begin to describe what this would entail.

"You have no idea how hard it was for me to leave," Cain murmured, his voice unusually emotional.

"Could've fooled me," she retorted quietly only to hear Cain groan in response.

"Listen," he growled, anger now in his tone. "I know you were hurt, and believe me I've hated myself for having to put you through that."

"You didn't have to put me through anything, she admonished. "You chose to leave. Chose to throw my confession back in my face." Her eyes rose to his, knitted brow and all. And they were back to arguing. "I get it even if I don't like it. But don't sit there and tell me you had to do any of it."

"You don't understand," he huffed. Releasing her knees he stood suddenly and began pacing back and forth between two trees. While his back was stiff, his shoulders were slumped.

"I couldn't, wouldn't let you get stuck with me. You deserve so much better." His fists were clenching and unclenching repeatedly at his side as he moved. One hand lifted to remove his fedora before brutally pushing the other through his short locks. "I did what I did to give you a chance at a better life. I'm a Tin Man. You're a Princess." And when he began ticking off their differences she thought he was doing it more for his own benefit than for hers.

"I'm old, you're young. An eighteen annual difference. Damn it, you're young enough to be my daughter!"

"But I'm not you're daughter," she interjected to stave off any further references to the unsettling possibility. It made a shiver go up her spine at the thought.

He promptly ignored her.

"You're wholesome and kind and sensitive. You give everyone a chance no matter what their background. I'll ruin all that's good and caring about you." His breathing was becoming erratic and his words were beginning to slur with the rapidity of his speech.

She wanted to interrupt, tell him he was being foolish but she could tell he had more to say. It would be better to wait to take care of his insecurities once he concluded his rant.

"I was in Hell for eight years. Had my wife and son taken from me. I couldn't survive that again. I have a heart made of metal and there is absolutely no reason it should feel the way it does."

He slid down the trunk of a nearby tree to sit along the base, staring blankly ahead. Face pale and body taut, he looked ready to crack. Slowly she maneuvered her way over to his seated position until her left shoulder, hip and leg were pressed up against his right side as they sat silently next to one another.

One deep breath later and she was delving into uncharted waters.

"You don't get it, Mr. Cain." Her words were soft and smooth as they left her lips, her eyes looking ahead never once glancing in his direction. If she was going to get this out without her emotions sweeping her away there could be no eye contact.

"I had no idea I was a Princess until we reached the ice palace. And honestly I wouldn't have thought twice about the differences in our stations even if I had known." Of this she was certain. Her parents, the biological ones, would never have raised her in such a manner. "You do realize my father is a commoner and a slipper, so that excuse is just that, an excuse." There was no way her mother would be so hypocritical to tell her this good, respectable man was not good enough for her daughter when she married Ahamo.

"The age difference doesn't matter to me. I'm not your daughter and the feelings I have for you are nothing remotely resembling a father-daughter relationship." That was the easy part.

"I'm not as decent and caring as you think I am. I have faults just like anyone else. I've had relationships before and never let them change who I am so I'm not about to start now." It was true. The few boyfriends in her past, if you could call them that, never changed her outlook on life or her personality. As soon as they tried she put an end to their association.

"I know about your past, at least the things you've told me or what I was able to gather from the time loop I witnessed." An audible intake of breath reverberated through the area and across her left side when she mentioned the device used to torture her friend. "I know you aren't the same person you were before the war, but I didn't know you then. I fell in love with the man I traveled with, the man who protected me, comforted me on our journey. The man who cried at the grave of his wife and teared up when we said our goodbyes before the final attack on the tower does not have a heart made of metal. And I don't know what your heart is feeling, but don't you owe it to yourself to listen."

Now for the truly hard part: giving him an out.

"If you don't love me I'll understand." She would break in two, but she would not deny him his feelings. "I'll step back, be a friend or go away and never bother you again." DG was trying desperately to control the constricting of her chest. "But I'm not a mind reader. I need you to tell me what you want."

Utter silence. It consumed the area and pressed down upon the two figures leaning against the tree. After many agonizing minutes of the stifled hush, DG had enough.

Slowly she rose to her full height, eyes still gazing on anything and everything except the man at her feet.

"When you decide, you'll be able to find me in town. It'll be at least a day before Del will be up to traveling." She sighed through her nose. "After that we'll be making our way to Finaqua."

Taking off at a nice clip she was almost out of earshot when she heard him mumble, "I'll find you." Pausing in her stride, she tilted her face just enough to see that he had not moved from his place in the grass. Nodding her head once she headed back to town and to her friends, hoping it would not take him long to tell her how he felt, one way or the other.

Better or Worse

2008-04-18T23:27:33Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 6

***

"I prithee send me back my heart,
Since I cannot have thine;
For if from yours you will not part,
Why, then, shouldst thou have mine?"
-- John Suckling

***

DG walked away. She walked away from the prying eyes of the village, walked away from her friends, walked away from Robbie, walked away from him. Shoving her fisted hand into her mouth she bit down hard to stifle the sob bubbling up her throat. The tears came, fat and fast as she moved silently through the tall grass lost in thought.

It was as if her legs had a mind of their own. She just kept putting one foot in front of the other, eyes focused on the ground just a few feet in front of her to keep from walking into something. Most of the objects coming into view were trees which she would quickly sidestep before continuing her thoughtless stride.

The darkness surrounded her, invading her senses and her thoughts. It consumed her, drew her into its core. The trees were shadows of their former glory, memories of the suns presence. The grass, a dark blanket on the ground, was enticing her into its fold. And she only too willingly accepted.

Sinking down into the soft, dark grass she crossed her arms around her knees. This was not a pleasant experience so far.

DG hated hurting Robbie, hated she was responsible for his heartbreak. She tried to let him down easy when she first got back to Kansas and thought she had succeeded with the way things were headed before the bumpy ride to the Outer Zone. Now he was hurting just as much as she was, living with unrequited love. Robbie didn't deserve to feel this way. No one did. To live with the knowledge the woman he loves, does not return his feelings. To live with the knowledge the woman he loves, loves another.

If she could stop loving Cain, she would. If she could turn that love toward Robbie, she would. But the heart wants what the heart wants, damn the pain, damn the consequences, damn the results.

"Care to give me that explanation now, kid." The rough voice broke through the darkness like a floodlight. It was not a true question, more of a prod to get her mouth moving and to let her know she was no longer alone.

She bristled at the use of the nickname she had gone without hearing since the last time she was in his presence. It still caused her blood to cook in her veins. Close to twenty-five now and he still considered her a child. But this time she just ignored the epithet.

"We got here accidentally," she stated calmly, letting her anger at him referring to her as 'kid' cover the butterflies forming in her stomach with each passing second, and she still had yet to look at him.

"Really," he countered, disbelief obvious in the inflection. "So, you didn't decide to go on a little adventure to find me than?"

Her expression contorted in astonishment as she simultaneously turned to face her former friend. Steam should have been visible billowing out of her ears, she was that heated. The smug look gracing his facial features and the relaxed way he leaned against a tree only increased the temperature tenfold.

How dare he assume such things!

Sure, she wanted him to come back, wanted him to feel for her the way she felt for him, but she would never force it upon him. For a year and a half she left him alone, would have continued to do so if the damn twister did not thrust her back into the fray.

There was no way she would condone that comment with an answer.

"The travel storm appeared so suddenly Robbie couldn't out run it," she ground out. DG tried to go back to neutral, tried to get her emotions in check but was having little success.

The smug expression dropped and his brows knitted over his baby blues.

"Travel storm?"

"Yeah, you know, the things that twirl wind and objects in their midst," she mimicked the movement of the storm with her pointer finger. "Grabs people from the Other Side and throws them into this backward world." Raising her hands palms up, she glanced meaningfully around the area.

With a push his back was off the tree, one hand hooked in the belt of his holster, the other in his pocket. He didn't make any move to close the distance but she could see the war to do so going on behind his eyes.

"You were on the Other Side?"

She felt like she was playing 50 questions.

"I've been living there for a long time. Didn't intend on coming back." She snorted loudly. It was very un-Princess-like, but when had she ever been the pristine royal. "Though, in both instances I didn't have much choice in the matter." DG shook her head ruefully.

It was the truth. During the first storm her parents, nurture units, actually threw her into the swirl of wind and debris. This time it consumed the truck right off the road they were traveling down. Who knew how it would happen next time. Probably suck her up off the toilet.

"So, these people..." Extracting the hand from his pocket he pointed back toward the village where her three companions were hopefully resting.

"Friends from my childhood," she finished for him.

He nodded, finally understanding they were from Kansas.

DG turned back to facing away from the man.

There were so many questions running around in her head she wanted answered. Had he been here the whole time? When was this place built? Who were all these people? The list went on and on.

However, if she asked those simple questions it would only lead to the more personal ones seeping into her brain. Did he miss her? Think about her? Change his feelings? Want to come back?

Those would only cause more heartbreak. So, she kept her mouth closed tight.

"You and that boy..." Cain grumbled, fingers trailing along the scabbed over cut on his swollen bottom lip.

She knew what he was asking. Part of her wanted to lie, to tell him they were lovers, engaged to be married, hell, maybe even that they were married. But she had never lied to the man and wasn't about to start with such a huge whopper. It would only make matters worse when he found out the truth. And he would sniff it out, he always did. Not to mention what it would do to Robbie.

"We're just friends. All of us are just friends."

There was a small shuffling noise from his direction and she wasn't surprised to hear him move closer. As his hand came down softly on her shoulder she twisted it out from under the weight. In a swift, almost elegant, motion she was on her feet heading further away from the village, hearing his feet beat against the hard ground as he tried to catch up. Even with her injured hip she gave him a run for his money.

DG was deep within the confines of the trees before he caught her by the arm stopping her retreat. But she refused to turn, keeping her back to him.

"What do you want, Mr. Cain?" she pushed passed her stiff lips.

"You can't go off on your own," he stated firmly. "It's too dangerous."

"I've been on my own in Kansas for some time now," she countered.

"The Queen agreed to that?"

Another snort let loose. "She wasn't happy, but the bullets made quite an argument in my favor," she said nonchalantly, like it meant nothing. "They both thought I'd be safer on the Other Side for a while."

"Bullets? People were shooting at you?" She could hear the agitation in his voice, she could picture is back ramrod straight, hand twitching toward his gun.

Twisting, eyes wide, she gave him the most disbelieving stare imaginable. What did he think would happen? The longcoats were still around back then, not that she knew what the tensions were like currently. But did he honestly think there would be no assassination attempts for the woman who took out the most powerful Sorceress any of them had ever seen?

"Yes," DG answered coolly. "One of my guards was stupid enough to jump in front of a bullet for me. It almost cost him his life." Again, little emotion in statements that should have been flooded with feeling.

"It's their job, Princess. It's their job to protect you." His face was just as disbelieving as her own. That she would think it absurd a guard, her guard, would die to keep her from harm.

"My life is no more important than his." For a long time she had thought it but never voiced her opinion knowing it would fall on deaf ears in the palace. She turned away again, facing into the darkness. "Besides, I can take care of myself."

Cain made a noise that was something between a laugh, a cough and a sneeze, probably trying to cover up an amused snort of laughter. "Oh, so you can take care of yourself, can you?" Another funky noise coming from deep in his throat pierced the cool evening air. "And that head wound is just a paper cut... right?!"

In a flash she was facing him again, hands clenching and unclenching spasmodically at her sides. "How dare you!" she breathed out low and deep. "What makes you think having a guard would've stopped me from hitting my head against the side of the truck? That is, unless I used him as a human cushion."

"Don't be a smartass, kid," Cain retorted.

"Smartass? Oh, I'll give you smartass!" she snarled. "Oh, wait, I know!" Her face contorted, mouth agape, eyes focused toward the sky, pointing her finger up in the air. "He would have jumped out of the truck," she stated thoughtfully, "dug out all the trees in the area and blown up a giant air bag all in the span of a few seconds. How stupid of me!"

Again he managed to get a rise out of her and she hated his ability to play with her emotions, all of her emotions.

"Kid..." it was a warning.

"What do you care?" she asked, venom in her words, and for a moment she thought she saw hurt flit across his face. DG chucked it up to being a trick of the light filtering through the branches from the rising moons. "Why do you care so much about my safety all of a sudden?"

"I've always been concerned with you're safety." It was soft and almost tender.

DG rolled her eyes. "Sure, so concerned you decided to go away and never come back." Taking a step toward him she felt emboldened. "I've been in Kansas since you left Finaqua and you had no idea. I could've been dead and you would've been none the wiser. That totally shows all the concern you felt for me."

Then, to the surprise of both of them she laughed outright, long and hard. Bending slightly at the waist, hand clutching her stomach, face red from lack of oxygen. It echoed off the trees, off the ground. Seeing the shocked face of Cain only made the bouts continue, tears springing from her eyes in the mirthless noise.

Once her breathing returned to normal she wiped the moisture from her cheeks standing up straight and tall. The smile on her face held no joy, no warmth, just a quiet surrender.

"You never cared," she said calmly and was pleased to see the man flinch. "Oh sure, you wanted to make sure I completed my mission but that was more about the survival of the OZ and not about my survival."

Letting lose an incredulous snort she rolled her eyes. "I have no idea why it took me so long to figure out."

Pointing an accusatory finger she poked him several times in the chest, eyes focusing on the place of impact. "You don't give a damn about me. It's always been about keeping up your precious Tin Man reputation after you made that promise to the Mystic Man. Save the OZ, save the Princess, save the day. And to think I thought you at least considered me a friend. What a crock!"

As her hand dropped down to her side she brushed past the stunned form of Wyatt Cain only to have her waist ensnared by his arms. He pulled her back flush against his chest as she squirmed, kicked and twisted to be let loose. Sliding her fingers under his she tried to pry them away from her body. Kicking her legs she managed to make contact with his shins a few times and elbow him in the guts once or twice.

Then he was grasping her wrists within one of his large fists, using the other arm to turn her and push her back into a nearby tree. Cain shifted his weight so his left side was pressed against her abdomen, his left leg pinning her legs in place. Her wrists were restrained against the coarse bark as high above her head as possible.

"Are you finished?" Cain growled.

She was trapped.

She was pissed.

DG was a trapped, pissed off Princess.

Lips pressed into a thin line, eyes narrowed focusing on a position somewhere beyond the line of Cain's chest, nose flared out as she took long, deep breaths. She said nothing in response, wasn't even sure she could force her vocal cords into working.

"I'll take that as a yes." He pushed his hip against her stomach and she took it as him rubbing in the fact she was under his control.

"You can't honestly believe anything you just said!"

DG let her eyes flit to his for a moment before returning to their original position.

Of course she believed it! He was just too damn conceited to think she would ever come to realize his true feelings. She was nothing to him, nothing at all. Never had been, never would be anything more than a kid who kept getting him into sticky situations, causing his family pain at every turn.

She released the witch, therefore she was the reason Zero locked him in the Iron Maiden, took his family away. She was the reason he wasn't there to protect Adora, why she died while he could do nothing to stop it. She was the reason he lost so many years with his son, why the OZ was plunged into years of Civil War.

"DG..."

Her eyes glanced at him once more, surprised he reverted to using her proper name and not the usual demeaning moniker or formal title.

"You know I care."

She snorted again. She couldn't help it.

"Why don't you just walk away," DG prodded. "It's what you're good at."

Anger was her safety net. If she could just stay angry she would be able to cover up the tremendous hurt coursing through her veins. DG had to use the anger, had to use it to keep her sane, to keep her from crying like the baby he thought she was.

"Damn it, DG! You can be so insufferable sometimes."

There went some of her anger, out the damn window. She felt the tremors building in her toes, working their way up her calves. Soon she would be a quaking mess held up by the tree behind her and the large man to her front. But she kept her chin held high hoping it would pass.

"What do you want from me?" Although it was quiet it lost none of its power. "I get it, I really do." Still she refused to make eye contact, losing focus as water began to well in the confines of her eyes. "You have a life of your own and I don't fault you for wanting to get back to it." Her heart hurt. "I told you how I felt and I lived with the result just like you." The dam was beginning to crack. "So what exactly are you looking for?" Swallowing hard she turned her waterlogged eyes to his. "Acceptance... fine. Understanding... fine. Forgiveness... fine." And with a final blink the dam broke flooding her cheeks with moisture.

Closing her eyes she tried to stem the tide. Her chest began to hitch with suppressed sobs.

"Please..." she heard him plead. "Please don't cry."

When he released her wrists her hands went straight to her soaked face, trying desperately to cover the evidence of her weakness. He stepped back freeing her from her position against the tree. In a quick movement she had sidestepped the tree, backing away still wiping at the tears flowing over her lower lids.

Cain took a step forward, she took three steps back. On more forward, five back. It was an unusual dance where the partners found themselves moving further and further away from each other the more they moved.

"DG, you have to listen to me!" His voice was strained, tight and quiet.

She shook her head, eyes stuck to his face which looked pained.

"Please let me explain!" He was pleading with her again, begging her to just hear him out.

She didn't know if she could handle hearing him trying to let her down easy this time. There was no way her heart would survive him telling her there was no chance for them to be together. It had been bad enough the first time around when he barely said anything at all. This time would surely do her in.

Again she shook her head, taking another step back. This step proved to be her last. The ground was not there. Her foot floundered in the air trying to find purchase as it kept moving down into nothingness. The hands covering her face shot out to grab nonexistent branches.

Her wide, fearful eyes were mirrored in the blue of Cain's who looked to be in slow motion as he lunged forward.

"DG!" she heard him call.

He was too late. Her other foot slipped over the edge into the chasm.

Screaming, limbs flailing, she fell.

Better or Worse

2008-04-16T22:40:07Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 5

***

"The one thing you can't trade for your heart's desire is your heart." -- Lois McMast

***

Cain was beyond angry as he shook her shoulders within his hardened grasp. She could feel his fingers digging into her skin, knowing she would have five identical bruises around each shoulder. Following the short-lived shock gracing her facial features at the initial physical contact, she soon allowed her expression to slip into neutral. She refused to give him the satisfaction of intimidating her into submission.

"Answer me, DG!" he practically growled.

Before she was able to come up with a snappy retort someone else chimed in, the perfect imitation of the anger in Cain's tone.

"Get your hands off her," Robbie screamed from the other end of the room. Turning her face in the direction of the voice she observed Robbie coming down the aisle at full speed. He was up and over the bed where Del lay in the blink of an eye, hitting Cain's side full force. All three of them tumbled onto the empty cot since Cain's hold on her shoulders only tightened upon impact.

Finally releasing her arms the two men toppled to the floor, each vying for the upper hand. Robbie swung the first punch cracking Cain in the mouth, splitting his bottom lip in two. Cain's uppercut then collided solidly with the jaw of the younger man who she hoped didn't lose any teeth from the blow.

"STOP!" DG shrieked grabbing at the shirt of the man on top of the pile who at the time happened to be Cain. It was a useless effort. Her fingers had barely twisted around the fabric of his duster when the two flipped positions and she lost her hold.

"STOP!" Again they rolled, Cain throwing Robbie's back brutally into the legs of the healer's desk knocking the wind out of the smaller man. Robbie pushed, forcing Cain onto his back, coming down hard on his stomach with his knee. On and on the battle waged, neither appearing ready to back off.

Desperately, DG scanned the room for someone to help, but everyone seemed frozen in place watching the scene unfold.

With no one willing to lend a hand she had to wait for the perfect time to intervene. As they rolled onto their sides she stepped in, quite literally, between the bodies of the two brawlers. Swinging her leg back she kicked first one, then the other hard in the chest, causing them to roll in opposite directions. It wasn’t what she wanted but given her current condition there was no way she could have pried one off the other.

Both men clutched their stomachs as they regained their feet. Who should she go to? Looking back and forth between two of the most important men in her life there was no way she could possibly choose one over the other. DG sighed, face in hands, slumping onto the cot. Confusion and exhaustion were taking over.

A small pressure running along her back made her tilt her head, peaking through her fingers. Fran. Fran was sitting next to her, rubbing her back consolingly. She was staring daggers at the two men who had their eyes locked together as if daring the other to bring the water back to a boil.

"If you gentlemen will excuse us," Fran stated, agitation seeping through her words. "I believe my friend here needs to see the healer." When both pairs of eyes turned to regard the young lady who spoke, she saw concern flit though both sets. "Please leave." Fran should totally be the Princess with such a commanding air.

Robbie sighed and began to leave but stopped short when he realized his nemesis was not following suit. He stood rigid, ignoring Fran's order. There was only one person Cain would allow, on the rarest of occasions, to tell him what to do. DG dropped her hands from her face, lifted her chin and locked eyes with the former Tin Man.

"I'll be fine, Mr. Cain," she stated calmly, more calmly than she felt. "Fran and Patty will take good care of me." DG watched Cain look back and forth between the two women who were going to fix her up before he tipped his hat in their direction and began walking down the aisle with Robbie. As he was passing Patty his arm whipped out to pull her head into his ear. Whatever he whispered caused her to pale. After she gave the slightest incline of the head all the men, with the exception of Del, were gone.

-----

A hospital in Kansas would have been a welcome sight for the injured young woman. The infirmary was in desperate need of supplies and more modern equipment, Novocain among them. The best Patty could do was to apply a numbing salve to the long, open wound traveling from high on DG's right temple to an inch behind her ear. Then the stitching began.

In went the needle, through the tender skin on one side of the wound. A minute amount of maneuvering took place before the needle successfully crossed the opening to be pushed up and out of the skin on the opposite side. The process repeated close to fifty times.

If not for the pillow she pushed over her mouth, clenching much of the fabric between her teeth, she would have screamed bloody murder. Shaking and sweating through the pain she prayed to just pass out, to go unconscious like Del and wake only when the worst was over. Unfortunately she remained wide awake through the whole ordeal.

Once the gash was stitched back to its proper place Patty brought over a large basin she placed on the table between the cots, handing a bar of soap, cup and cloth to Fran. Dipping the cloth in the water, Fran wiped the dirt and grime from the face of her friend who looked even more pallid with the filth washed away. Tenderly Fran soaked DG's dirty hair, first soaping and rinsing the locks on one side of the wound, then the other. She took great pains to run a comb gently through the hair, without the slightest pull against her injury, until it was free of tangles.

As soon as the makeshift bath was finished Patty took the basin, emptying the contents only to return with a fresh batch of water and a clean cloth. While Fran cleaned the face and exposed skin of their slumbering companion, Patty fussed over covering DG's stitched skin with a bandage.

"That man really cares for you," Patty mused, applying an antiseptic ointment to the freshly sutured cut.

"Robbie's a wonderful friend," DG replied half-heartedly. Her energy was taxed.

The woman paused, fingers covered white with ointment hovering over the treated area. "I was talking about Wyatt Cain." Then she went back to her work.

"We used to be friends."

"Sweety, I'd say you were much more than that to Cain," she chuckled lightly. "I've never been threatened so vehemently before." DG started to move her head to the side to look at the nurse, but she held tightly to DG's chin to keep her head in place. "He said he'd hold me personally responsible if anything happened to you."

"I can take care of myself," DG muttered, angry at how easily he slipped back into proctector mode.

Patty said no more, placing a clean bandage over the wound. Using a gauzelike material, the healer secured the bandage in place.

It was not long before both women had completed their tasks and DG rose reluctantly to go face the music, figuring it better to just get it over and done with.

When Fran made a move to go with her, DG simply placed a steadying hand on her shoulder, an infinitesimal shake of her head signaling her need to do this on her own. Head held high she walked out of the Ozian version of a hospital and into the darkening street beyond.

-----

It took several moments for her eyes to adjust to the dwindling light, for her to see the shadowy figure standing on the opposite side of the road, back pressed against the railing of the porch. Although the face was not visible, the posture and form could only mean one person, Robbie. A few glances up and down the street made it quite clear there was no one else out and about. DG bit her lip, quite hard, at the realization Cain did not find it necessary to wait around.

Taking a deep breath she walked toward Robbie, keeping her eyes focused on his shoes, knowing, feeling, Robbie's eyes on her the whole time. She stopped quite close to her friend, finally lifting her gaze. But just as her eyes locked with his, his arms were around her waist, their chests pressed firmly together.

DG smiled, wrapping her arms under his, latching her fingers onto his back and resting her left cheek against his shoulder. It felt good to be in someone's embrace. She felt safe and warm.

The bruise on his jaw, a horrid purple seen out of the corner of her eye, caused her to sober quickly and she pulled back out of the safety of his arms.

"Feeling better?" he asked, running a hand through the damp hair on the safe side of her head. Subconsciously her head tilted into the tender touch, pressing her cheek into his palm as he tucked some loose tendrils behind her ear.

"Much," she admitted. "Those stitches were more painful than the actual injury."

Again she found herself looking up and down the empty street, peering into dark windows looking for any sign of another human being, one in particular.

Without thinking she asked him the question most prevalent in her mind. "Have you seen Mr. Cain?"

DG felt the hand in her hair go stiff and drop. When her eyes traveled back to the face of her friend it was obvious he had taken a step back, a step away from her. And the look on his face was one of confusion.

"Are you talking about the guy who was manhandling you?" His tone was incredulous.

Sighing through her nose she looked up to the sky. "It wasn't like that." DG bit her lip in a nervous gesture. How was she to explain all of this without it sounding horrible? "We became friends the last time I was here. He was just... concerned."

Robbie snorted loudly. "He had his hands on you. Shook you." He pointed accusingly at her. "If that's concern then I'd hate to see the man angry."

Groaning loudly she moved pasy him to take a seat on the steps of the porch, Robbie following suit. Hands clasped together, she stared off at nothing in particular.

"Listen," she started again. "Mr. Cain looked out for us during our search for the emerald. I told you about him." Turning her eyes to his face she hoped her words would bring about an understanding of their tenuous relationship. "We found him in a metal prison so small it could only fit a human body. It was a miracle he survived He just gets a bit protective of his friends."

Leaning forward she placed her elbows on her knees and her head in her hands. His hand came up to run soothing circles over her back.

"Then how come in your stories you gloss over him like he wasn't even there?" Man did he know how to make a person squirm.

During her two hour explanation of her previous saga in this realm she told them in vivid detail about Glitch and Raw, Az and Ahamo, even Tutor. But when it came to telling them about Cain... well, she left a lot up to the imagination. It was hard to put into words everything he did without it coming across as some sort of hero-worship syndrome.

Explaining the suit had been relatively easy. It was all metal, machinery and before she started to feel anything but sympathy for the man. After that, it was all pretend.

DG pretended.

Pretended he never left the group so there was no need to explain his sudden reappearance or the relief she felt knowing he came back to help.

Pretended he was never shot out of the Northern Palace so when he snuck into the Tower she didn't have to mention the shear joy she felt at seeing him alive.

Pretended she didn't scream his name as her father hauled her away in the Realm of the Unwanted.

Pretended she didn't beg him in her mind to get her out of the green marble tomb slowly suffocating her to death.

Pretended they never hugged before the final battle so it was unnecessary to reveal how she gathered strength from the feel of his arms around her and used it as fuel to release her sister from her own personal hell.

Pretended when she saw him after it all went down she did not go weak in the knees as he smiled. Pretended her stomach did not turn to butterflies when he pulled her into another embrace.

Pretended he decided to stay at the palace in Finaqua so she never spoke of the heartbreak she felt when he turned his back on her, when he walked out of her life.

It had all been pretend, and in the end the only person she managed to dupe was herself.

"We had words," she mumbled through her fingers. "Just before he left."

There was a long awkward silence so thick she could feel it pressing down on her neck and back.

"You love him." Sweet, caring, adorable, and observant, Robbie. He knew her too well.

She wanted to deny his declaration, deny her feelings, and deny his place in her heart. But she found herself muttering a "Yes" instead.

Robbie should be the man she loved, should be who she spent the rest of her life with. It made more sense. They were much closer in age, had a lot more in common and grew up together. He knew Other Side lingo, her likes and dislikes. He would protect her from any danger, would put her before everything else. And DG knew he loved her very much.

But to DG, he was just a friend, nothing more.

"Then why did you come back to Kansas?"

That, my friends, was the million dollar question. And DG had one painful answer as a parting gift.

"He doesn't love me," she whispered, closing her eyes in an attempt to trap the tears behind her heavy lids. They slid out through the cracks anyway.

Robbie let loose a short bark of laughter making her rear back, his hand dropping from its perch. Looking at her, he just shook his head and rolled his eyes.

"You've got to be kidding!" he stated dumbfounded. "That man," with a jerk of his head in no particular direction, "is totally and completely in love with you."

DG stared at him like he had grown three heads.

"No," she denied. "When I told him my feelings he made it perfectly clear he didn't love me back." Her words were clipped, in a tone that brooked no argument, but she would get one anyway.

"Did he say that?" Robbie asked with heat laced in his words. Why he was trying to convince her that Cain loved her was an utter mystery to DG. "Did he say, 'I don't love you' ?"

"NO!" she shrieked, "But he sure as hell left." Now DG was angry. Somehow she got to her feet though she had no recollection of doing so. Her breathing was ragged and a fire blazed in her eyes. "As far as I'm concerned that speaks louder than words."

"You're a fool!" Robbie yelled back, matching her volume and her stance.

There were a couple faces peering at them out of the doors and windows of the surrounding homes, but the two took no notice of them.

He grabbed her shoulders in the exact same place Cain had earlier, his fingers digging into the already abused flesh.

"Open your pretty blue eyes and see the real reason he left," Robbie's voice was carrying and more faces began to stick out around corners. "Fear. You said he lost his wife, his son while he was trapped. He's afraid to love again, afraid to lose. Even I can see he's afraid of losing you." He shook her slightly in his grasp. "And believe me I know the feeling."

"I'd give anything to have you look at me the way you look at him. Anything to have you return my feelings." His voice was desperate, cracking over some of the syllables. Swallowing a few times he regained some of his composure before his head drooped, chin hitting his chest.

"Give him another chance, DG," he whispered, practically inaudible.

Robbie released his hold on her shoulders and turned to make his way back to town.

Then, with a smartly placed hand on her chin he turned her head just so, his breath tickling her ear. "Love is worth it." A peck on the cheek and he was gone.

Better or Worse

2008-04-16T22:17:58Z

Title:
Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 4

***

"The only courage that matters is the kind that gets you from one moment to the next." -- Mignon McLaughlin

***

Before they left the small clearing where they touched down Del insisted on scavenging for supplies in the remains of the truck. It was probably the best suggestion anyone could have made. While there was not much left, what little they did find would come in handy.

Three 16 oz bottles of water were at least better than nothing, and they could be refilled when they crossed paths with a stream. As far as food went, two candy bars and a bag of Doritos were extracted from the glove box. It would make a measly meal.

Inside the box screwed into place in the bed of the truck, Fran removed a small sleeping bag, flashlight and three flares, gifts from Robbie's uncle who insisted they be kept in his car. Having endured a breakdown in the middle of nowhere, he didn't want his nephew to be without the necessities. DG made a mental note to send a thank you card for his foresight.

The last items to be extracted from the box were the true prize, a shotgun and box of ammo. Robbie was a small game hunter on occasion. A gun never looked so good to DG.

Once the foraging was complete DG watched Fran empty the contents of her overlarge purse onto the ground. Wallet, lipsticks, checkbook, pens, and a compact scattered over the dirt. As Fran placed the important items, the flashlight, flares, food and water, inside DG bent down to pick up the compact. Fumbling with the clasp she opened the lid wide, raising it to eye level and letting out an audible gasp at what was reflected back in her direction.

Dirt covered her face, the skin sickly white where exposed. The light green fabric that used to be a shirt was stained darkly along the entire length of the right side of her head. The dark hair beneath was matted, sticking up awkwardly above the cloth and knotted at the base of her neck where it was tied back. Even her lips were pale.

With a soft click the compact closed in her hands. Silently she set it back on the ground as Fran stood, placing the long strap of the purse through her right arm and over her head to rest on her left shoulder. The sleeping bag swung slowly from where it was tied to the strap.

As soon as they started their journey, Robbie took up position behind the group, shotgun cocked, eyes scanning the area for any danger. In the time since they first arrived in the OZ he was reminding her more and more of Cain. He was on constant alert, ever the protector.

The left arm securely wrapped around her waist belonged to Del, his other arm hanging in the sling, completely useless. He was helping her walk through her dizzy spells and the pain radiating from her right hip. Even though she tried not to let her weight sag onto his proffered limb, it was hard to stop. And she was amazed at his strength given his current condition.

Fran was off to the left and a little ahead of the group. Whenever her left foot hit the ground she grimaced, the bruised calf giving off instant discomfort. Her right hand was clamped down on the purse to keep it from swinging, the sleeping bag swaying in time with her cadence. Not once did she voice the pain she felt from her injuries or irritation at having to carry all their gear. Instead, she put on a front, head held high in determination.

DG's mouth was dry, voice hoarse from the explanations she gave to her three companions. They were curious to learn more, continually chiming in with questions and observations. Del even expressed his opinion about the OZ defying the laws of physics having two suns, though he seemed to forget about her ability to do magic. There was no stopping the snicker when she remembered how much he used to struggle in school.

They trekked south for about two hours before they were clear of the orchard having never seen, or heard, any papay. Now that many of the trees were blooming again, fruit visible, DG hoped the menacing looking creatures had changed their ways.

It was not long after exiting the fields of the papay they came to a small village. There were between ten and fifteen buildings, some bigger than others. Stealthily Robbie moved to the front of the group and signaled for them to crouch behind some brush.

Fran took the opportunity to take one of the water bottles out of her bag, handing it to Del. He opened the proffered bottle and bringing it to his lips took a long swig before handing it off. Once the bottle returned to Fran she secured the cap on the now nearly empty container, stuffing it back into the bag.

"Del, D... er... Emily," he stuttered before correcting himself. "You two say here. Fran and I'll check things out." DG hated being left behind but knew the reason for it. Both of them were injured and it would be best if they kept out of view until it was determined the village was safe.

Robbie locked eyes with Del, both exchanging meaningful looks, before Robbie handed over the shotgun. No matter what loyalties this village had, walking into it with a cocked shotgun would not go over well. A moment later, Robbie turned around to make his way into town.

Before he had gone two steps DG's hand shot out, seizing his wrist effectively stopping his movements. "Don't mention hospitals, or doctors," she had to give him some last bits of advice before he put himself out on a limb. "They're called healers."

He looked over his shoulder and smiled. Grabbing Fran's hand they walked out on to the main street, which was eerily empty. All was quiet as their two friends disappeared around a corner.

The snap of twig behind them forced DG's spine straight, her heart jumping into her throat.

"Drop the weapon," the gravelly voice commanded.

Del grumbled beside her but obeyed. When she peered out of the corner of her eye she could see the irritation on his face at his own inattentiveness.

"Arms up," they both did as they were told. "Stand," again they complied. "Now turn slowly."

As she turned around her eyes fixed on a well defined jaw, dirty blonde curls and expressive eyes. She'd know that face anywhere. Jeb Cain.

Dang it!

Life, it seemed, was not without a sense of irony. Out of all the people in this vast world, she had to run into someone she knew. However, from the looks he was giving them he had yet to place her face. After all, they only saw each other a few times and from what she saw in the mirror of the compact she looked like hell. Maybe the Gods were still on her side.

"Names," he commanded.

DG tried to talk, even opened her mouth a few times but words failed her. It was one of her worst traits. When she got nervous her vocal cords froze. Luckily her friend didn’t have that problem.

"The name's Del," he said gruffly, anger in his tone at having a gun pointed at them. "This here is Emily." She sighed inwardly. He remembered to use her false name and she wasn't sure how she felt about it, happy or agitated.

Jeb's eyes trailed from Del's face to her own, up to her scalp and over to Del's mangled arm which was raised high regardless of the pain. Slowly Jeb lowered the gun, holstering it at his side, and signaled for them to lower their hands.

Even before her arms had returned to her sides she felt Del's arm wrap once more around her waist, pulling her protectively against his hip.

"Sorry about that," Jeb said, "You can never be too careful." He smiled slightly but neither she nor Del returned the gesture. They were both too concerned over Fran and Robbie to placate their captor.

As if sensing their thoughts, "You're friends are fine," he stated confidently. "They're being questioned by my father."

Damn. Damn. Damn. Damn.

The Gods hated her, what other explanation could there be for this horrible set of circumstances. Wyatt Cain was there, in the first gosh-darn village to cross their path. Talk about cliche. And to top it all there was no doubt Cain would recognize her instantly. That is, if he saw her.

Even though she yearned for his presence just a few hours earlier, she found herself wishing to evade the man. There was still a chance she could get out of town without having to see him. One could hope, no matter how small the odds.

This astonishing twist of fate made her swoon, causing Del to pull her tighter into his side to keep her upright.

"Emily needs help," she heard Del say.

Great! Just what she needed, Cain to see her as a damsel in distress all over again.

Jeb nodded saying a curt "Follow me," as he gathered up the discarded shotgun.

"No," she heard her own voice declare only to have two sets of eyes swing around to focus on her face. "I think we should leave." There was a tremor in the words she prayed they overlooked. She would suffer through the pain until they reached the next town, it had to be better then facing him.

"Listen," Jeb began as he looked from one to the other. "I'm sorry I pulled my gun on you, but you need to see the healer." No, she would manage. "So does your friend."

Damn it all to hell.

He played the one card she would fall for easily. Del needed medical attention in a bad way. If his arm went untreated it could become horribly infected.

Muttering a staccato, "Fine," she watched Jeb nod politely before turning around to make his way into town.

Del held her up as they trailed after, not saying a word about her wish to move on, both of them occupying their time by taking in their surroundings. The buildings looked rather new, clean and sturdy, made of wood and metal. All windows and doors were only on the side of each structure facing the main street. There were no back entrances, ones visible to the naked eye anyway, probably done as a security measure. The road was of hard, compact dirt with hoof prints scattered about.

As they moved down the street she saw him. Face stoic as ever, he was listening to Robbie who resembled Del at the moment with his arm holding Fran firmly about the waist. Other than the group of people surrounding her friends, five large men and two women, not another soul could be seen. There was not one other person on the road or looking out the windows of the homes flanking them.

Cain looked exactly the same, right down to his duster and fedora. Even his expression was identical to the one plaguing her dreams, haunting her while awake. It was the way he looked at her before he left her behind. Her heart twinged painfully in her chest at the sight and she cursed her body's response. Without warning, while she stared at his prominent profile, she realized that no matter how much time passed she would never be free of her desire to hold him close.

When his eyes lifted toward the new people entering town DG began to panic. The last thing she needed was for him to come barreling over thinking she was there to see him, thinking she was still pining away. Instinctively DG buried her face in Del's side, confident her bandaged head would keep her identity a secret for a few more moments especially at such a distance.

Soon they were climbing stairs and entering one of the buildings. The room was small, seven empty cots along the wall under the windows with two large cabinets encompassing the opposite one. A single desk sat at the end of the row where a young woman was seated.

"This is our infirmary," Jeb stated as the young woman rose, quickly making her way over to the trio. "Patty, these two need treatment." DG was convinced their appearance already made that quite clear.

Patty said nothing but ushered them down the aisle to the last cot. "Sweety, you lie down here," she said to DG who simply looked up at Del. "We have to set his arm but he'll be in the bed right next to you," she continued and DG locked eyes with the woman who was close to her own age. "I promise he won't go anywhere."

DG just nodded in response. Del helped her to sit on the bed, then shuffling a bit she was finally laying on her back. She released a long, drawn out sigh of contentment.

Grasping her hand in his good one, he sat down on the cot to her right. He smiled and she smiled back. She knew he would be dealing with a tremendous amount of pain in a few moments when they set his arm and she hated herself for taking some of his strength as her own. But she was desperate. Any instant she would hear his distinctive gait coming down the aisle to berate his former charge.

"Jeb, go get your father, Jasper and More," Patty was instructing. "We'll need all of you to get this arm back in place." DG winced. She heard footsteps retreating out of the building, a few moments later more footsteps entered.

Still holding Del's hand she turned toward the wall so he wouldn't see her face. She felt cowardly. Del tried to release her hand but she held on tighter.

Suddenly Patty was giving instructions. Telling Jasper to hold his shoulders down, More to do the same to his legs. Jeb was told to rest his weight on his chest and hips to keep them from twisting. Cain had to hold onto Del's arm on either side of his elbow while Patty would grasp below the break in order to snap the bone back in place.

DG felt Del squeeze her hand and while it was excruciating she did not flinch or draw her hand back, instead she squeezed just as hard.

She wanted to turn around, wanted to comfort him. And with only one last thought toward keeping her identity hidden she sat up, quickly leaning over the small space between their beds. Poking her head between Jeb and Jasper she took in his appearance. He didn't seem to be breathing. Wiping her free hand over his sweaty brow she placed a chaste kiss on his temple.

Leaning down she whispered in his ear, "Just keep your eyes on me."

If she could keep his attention on her and not what was going to happen... Well, hopefully it would lessen his current torment. She kept her hand on his forehead, trailing her fingers over his hairline, focusing all her energy on letting her light flow into him and was relieved to see him begin to breathe again.

A moment later a sickening crack echoed through the small space followed by the most horrific yell imaginable. His palm became sweaty and his grip slackened. She could feel the trembling of his body through their clasped hands. His eyes fluttered, fighting to remain conscious. "DG..." he began and she knew there was no hiding the truth now.

There was no flinching at the use of her real name. He wasn't to blame, and what good would it do to make him feel responsible for outing her, so to speak.

"I'm here," she responded, giving him another kiss on the temple. When his eyes closed she released a long, heavy sigh.

The two men on either side of her backed away and she was pretty sure she knew the reason. She was once face to face with an angry Tin Man, the same angry Tin Man, and it would make even the bravest person want to recoil.

DG did not dare raise her eyes. From her position she could clearly see the dark green duster of the man she was trying to avoid on the other side of the bed, his body stock still. Keeping her attention on her friend whose color was gradually returning to normal, she pretended he wasn't there, pretended he didn't recognize her.

All too soon her dream world was shattered as he bolted around the cot, grabbing her forcefully by the shoulders to drag her to her feet.

Anger was evident in the blue eyes that went almost black while she watched, powerless to extract herself from his grasp. Losing its traditional stoic quality, Cain's face now held concern in its features, even fear.

"What the hell are you doing here?"

Prim and Proper

2008-04-16T01:12:21Z

Title:

Prim and Proper

Disclaimer:

Unfortunately I do not own Tin Man or any of the characters from the mini series. Nor do I own the original by Frank L. Baum.

General Info:

Rated PG

General/Humor/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Prim and Proper

Cain paced the length of his room for the hundredth time that night. Mind a whirl of thought and hands cramping in their clenched position. DG had always been short fused, spur of the moment, quick to laugh, friendly, spunky, but something had changed and it irritated the usually stoic man. Rarely would Cain ever let his emotions get the better of him, but this was different and there was no reason he could lay his finger on. He had managed to remain calm the first couple days, thinking it was just a result of her birthday, but things were slipping further and further out of control, out of his control.

Prim and Proper, the only words he could use to describe the young woman, and how it aggravated him. He admired - more than he wanted to admit - her free thinking and spunky attitude. She was never one to be satisfied taking or giving orders. Lessons were often skipped, protocol not followed, and he liked that. It kept him on his toes. What had happened? One week ago things had changed at the drop of a dime, only he wasn't sure what the dime had been.

Cain had been escorting the young lady back to her room after the ball to celebrate her birthday when she did a complete 180. She even had the gall to curtsey. Prior to that she would just playfully hit him on the arm to say their goodbyes, or on occasion would invite him in for an informal conversation.

They usually spent two or three evenings a week in her quarters while she drank her hot chocolate and spouted off about the latest problems with being a princess. Cain would sit there, nodding when appropriate and enjoying the friend to friend conversation, which was much different from the princess to bodyguard one they would have at any other time. However, not once this week did she invite him in, not once did she have her hot chocolate, choosing instead to drink 'tea.' What was going on?!

Picking up a paper weight off his desk he chucked the object at the wall as if the wall had offended him in some way; the result, a very unsightly hole. Letting out a tremendous groan, Cain sank onto the bed, head in hands. Honestly, he had no clue why it should bother him so - but it did. He should be happy that she was finally taking her position with such responsibility - but he wasn't. What was wrong with him?!

Prim and Proper, if he hadn't known any better he would have thought she was Azkadellia. His head shot up at the idea. Had she been possessed? The thought churned his stomach and drained the color from his already pale face. He ran over all the times she could have been out of his sight at the ball, because that was when, whatever it was, had happened. Cain ticked them off on his fingers.

She had been dancing with Glitch - no. Talking to Jeb - definitely not. Laughing with Raw - yeah, right! Eating dessert with her parents - not in this lifetime. Out on the balcony... - maybe, just maybe. And with that he was up in a flash.

As he raced through the corridors to her chambers he berated himself for leaving her alone. He had been dancing with Azkadellia when he saw DG leave the confines of the room for the balcony. Being gracious, he waited until the song was over to excuse himself. How could he have been so stupid! Leaving her open for attack. Had she tried to fight it off?

When he reached her door he didn't even attempt to knock, bursting through like he owned the place. Glancing quickly around the room he spotted her seated on the sofa by the fire, sipping that damned tea. Not even registering the look of surprise on her face that she couldn’t hide, he bolted forward causing her to drop the mug and spill the hot liquid all over the floor.

Grabbing her by her arms he lifted her out of her seated position and began to shake her. "Who are you?" He yelled. "What have you done with DG?" It was very out of character.

Her blue eyes widened at the words and the corners of her mouth curved up in a crooked smile. "What are you talking about, Mr. Cain," again with the damn formalities and use of correct English. He huffed and dropped her unceremoniously back onto the couch eliciting a loud "ooff."

Prim and Proper, sitting there all ladylike while Cain wore a path in the carpet with his pacing. He was out of his mind. She was staring at him, her large blue eyes wide but her face held no concern. The flushing of the toilet made Cain stop mid-stride and turn to look toward the adjoining facilities. Someone else was there. Who?

DG stood, brushing off her dress, for she had taken to wearing them without argument after the ball. He noticed for the first time that it was dressier than normal; a light pink, - she never wore pink, claimed it was too girly - low cut frock. He watched her bend over, pick up the mug and place napkins on the floor using her heeled foot - she had always worn flats - to clean up the liquid. As DG returned to her seated position, he became aware of the second mug on the table, another cup of tea. So it was out with the old and in with the new, eh?

The bathroom door opened and Cain froze. Walking across the room to retake his seat was his son, Jeb. So it was out with the old and in with the new, quite literally. Cain felt his heart hammering in his chest and didn't understand why the situation made him both uncomfortable and infuriated at the same time. Jeb smiled pleasantly at his father, seemingly unaware of the state of his emotions, and Cain wondered if everyone had been possessed.

Jeb situated himself on the sofa next to DG, entirely too close according to his father. Cain glared at his son, his son smiling back, and no one wanting to break the silence.

It was many long moments before Cain opened his mouth. "What," he ground out, gesturing wildly, eyes ablaze. "Is going on here?" he finished the question, making sure to enunciate every word. They both appeared unfazed by his question and his tone, not even glancing at one another for consultation on their response. DG stood, ignoring Cain and turned to face the younger man.

Prim and Proper, "Jeb, I think we better call it a night," she said politely, holding her hand out to help him onto his feet. When Cain saw their hands touch a bolt of electricity passed up his spine and his breathing shut down. "It seems your father and I have some things to talk over," she continued while escorting his son to the door.

Then it happened. She gave Jeb a small kiss on the cheek and Cain about burst. When the door closed behind his son and DG turned around, there was no stopping the stream of obscenities that came out of his mouth. DG just walked calmly over to him until she was barely an arms length away, a very bold move considering his mood.

"Wyatt," she said quietly, eyes all wide and reflective. His mouth clamped shut at the use of his first name causing his tirade to come to an abrupt halt. "What are you so upset about?" Damn her and her ability to melt away his anger, he refused to let her get away with it this time.

What am I upset about?" he shot back at her like she had lost her mind. "What am I upset about?" he repeated as he turned away from her gaze and began pacing again. "What am I upset about?" throwing up his arms, snatching off his hat and running a hand roughly through his short hair.

Prim and Proper, "If you keep saying that someone is going to think you're Glitch," she stated calmly and with some play in her voice. He glared at her over his shoulder and continued his pacing, hat thrown carelessly on the floor. "What do you think is going on here?" she asked him, blatantly smirking.

Stopping dead in his tracks he turned around to fully face her, his face ashen as he considered her question. What did he think was going on? "I'm not worried about what I think, Princess," he said, that was obviously a lie. "I'm more worried about your reputation." Wrong thing to say and he knew he would pay for it as soon as the words left his lips.

Rage flashed dangerously behind DG's eyes but she quickly stifled it back down. However, she couldnt stop her body from going completely erect at the statement. "My reputation?" she asked quietly. "If you were so worried about my reputation, why did you spend so many evenings in here?" There it was - pay back.

What aggravated him the most was she was right. What was so different about him sitting in with her and Jeb doing so? He isn't me! He had to think quickly, "I'm your bodyguard, it looks more profess..." he wasn't able to finish.

She cut him off at the pass. "Don't kid yourself, Wyatt. It never looked professional." Again his blood froze in his veins at the use of his first name.

The air between them sizzled and he could feel it pressing in on him. Damn her for being correct. Why had it never crossed his mind what people would think of their time alone together - in her room. He was supposed to be a bright man, a tin man, and here he was feeling like a teenager caught sneaking into his girl's bedroom. His girl! - Where did that come from?

Cain could feel his face flush with the thought, picturing himself bright red as the blood pooled under his skin. How absurd! He didn't - couldn't - consider her his girl - or did he? This wasn't right. She had him so out of sorts with just a few spoken words. Could his exterior be broken that easily - apparently!

He sank low into the sofa as his body weakened. Change the topic. "You're not right for Jeb." Damn it, that wasn't what he meant to say. How did he know if they weren't good together? Who was he to determine that? - Her bodyguard, that's who, nothing more. Hurt flashed behind her deep wells, but once again she was able to suppress it.

Prim and Proper, "Don't you think your standards are a bit high if a princess is not good enough for your son." It didn't emanate hurt, anger or even indifference. It was a bland statement that threw him completely for a loop. That wasn't what he meant - and she knew it.

It had fishtailed out of control. His foot was so far down his throat he could feel it kicking his own ass from the inside. He didn't dare speak again for fear of what it might do to the situation - like it could get any worse! Cain simply sat there, eyes trained on the floor wishing he had never taken one step out of his room.

"If I'm not right for Jeb, who am I right for?" she asked him. His eyes flew up at the question and his insides constricted.

It was polite and gave no outward sign that she expected him to actually name someone. For all he knew he wasn't even supposed to answer, but for some reason his tongue refused to listen to his brain.

"Me." Damn it. Damn it. Damn it. How did it get to this? His eyes were as wide as saucers, imitating her usual look when she was worried, afraid, or anything really. Up and out of his seat in the blink of an eye he planned on making a hasty retreat of not only her living quarters but the palace as a whole. There was no way he could ever look at her again with such a revelation.

He had only taken a few steps when a soft hand wormed its way into his, holding on hard and effectively stopping his flight. Heart pounding in his ears he didn't dare turn around.

Prim and Proper, "Do you know how long I've waited to hear you say that?" she asked tentatively. Her voice was soft and full of emotion for the first time in a week.

Turning slowly the first thing he saw was the watery eyes that had begun to spring leaks, creating small rivers down her cheeks. The smile on her face was reflected in the warmth of those liquid filled pools. His heart raced behind his chest, so fast it was more like a hum than rhythmic beats.

Before he could do or say anything more she had launched herself at him. Arms wrapping around his neck, feet kicked up behind her - kicking off those blasted heels - body pressed to his, and lips locked with his own. It took a minute for him to register the feel of it and to realize that it was, in fact, happening. Smiling against her lips he responded, making a mental note to himself that she was prim and proper no more.

Better or Worse

2008-04-16T00:32:13Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13 for later chapters

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 3

***

"A good friend is a connection to life - a tie to the past, a road to the future, the key to sanity in a totally insane world." --Lois Wyse

***

The ground was cold under her body, a cold that was beginning to seep through to her core. A stitch in her side was making breathing difficult. Ignoring the pain wreaking havoc on her body she turned her head, taking in her surroundings, looking for her friends.

The four of them finished their ice creams, went to a late movie and Robbie took them home. DG's brain stuttered to a halt after that, not remembering anyone being dropped off. She saw the truck off to the right, or what was left of it anyway. It was a mangled heap of metal with a tree practically growing out of its center. There were so many trees around she swore she was in a forest which made absolutely no sense whatsoever. Robbie would never have taken them to a forest considering the closest one was forty miles from town.

A shuffling noise had her head jolting to the left only to surge pain down her neck and spinal cord, eyes shutting tight against the onslaught. A hand placed on her forehead stilled the movement, effectively easing some of her discomfort. When she opened her eyes she found four of Robbie's brown ones staring down at her, intense worry in their depths. Ok, so she was seeing double. That meant head injury.

"Where's Fran and Del?" she asked, so quiet he had to strain to hear her words. Fear began to seep into her veins at the thought of those two being...

"Fran's looking after Del," Robbie said. "His arm is broken," he quickly added upon seeing the panic on her face. "She's making a splint and sling from what we can find in and around the truck."

"What happened?" she whispered, blinking a few times to try to make the Robbie's blend back together.

Robbie averted his eyes and began trailing his hands down her arms, sides, stomach, legs. He was checking for injuries. There was no stopping the winces when his fingers prodded especially sensitive areas such as her right side and hip. She knew she was bad off. Lifting her hand to her head she ran it over her clumped hair only to feel a sticky liquid cover her fingers. Blood.

Her thoughts turned briefly to Glitch, wondering how she would cope if her head required a zipper and she had to stifle a snicker at the picture that popped into her mind. There was no way she could pull off the metal strip the way he did. She sobered suddenly when she remembered he no longer had the zipper.

"The twister came out of nowhere," Robbie said quietly, knocking through her thoughts. Focusing on his face, faces, he had a small cut near his hair line trailing blood down the side of his face. His fingers finally made it to her ankles, lifting each foot, taking time to flex them forward and backward checking their motion. "It seemed like it was hell bent on taking us out." Laying her right foot on the ground his eyes turned back to look at her face. "I couldn't escape it."

He was pleading with her to understand he had tried everything. And while she was well aware he would never put them in harms way, her thoughts were elsewhere.

Tornado. Tornado. Tornado. She practically chanted in her mind. Shit! They were back in the OZ. That's why there were so many trees, and trees that looked suspiciously like the one she accidentally brought back to life. Her thoughts shot back to her last day in the palace.

-----

Two weeks after Cain high-tailed it, she stood in front of her parents, the Queen and Ahamo, with determination in her posture and a fierce need in her blood.

"I'm leaving," DG stated blandly. It was a decision she made moments after watching the retreating back of the love of her life, but allowed time to pass for appearance sake.

"Make sure you take the guards with you, Angel," the Queen replied without looking up. There was nothing in her voice indicating she understood what her youngest was implying, thinking she was going out for some air. It was only solidified by her next comment. "You know how dangerous the remaining longcoats can be so make sure you stay close to the palace."

Oh she knew alright. One of her guards had taken a bullet for her earlier in the week.

When the shots rang out Rin pounced on her back, slamming her to the ground hard enough to leave her ribs bruised. Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest. DG felt the bullet hit him, hearing him grunt in response. The blood from his side began to pool beneath her stomach and she tried to flip them over to attend to the wound. But even with a bullet in his side he wouldn't budge. There was no way to get out from under the man. He would rather die than allow her to be spotted by the sniper.

It seemed to take hours when in reality it was only a matter of minutes. They were some of the longest minutes of her life. Laying there knowing the man above her could die of blood loss if they did nothing to stop it. Once the sniper was taken out by the rest of the guard, Rin was carried back to palace where the bullet was removed, the wound bandaged. He would live, and for that she was eternally grateful.

It was only one more reason for her to leave. She couldnt stand the possibility of someone dying to save her. Her life was no more valuable than the life of another.

"No, you don't understand," the young lady stated with more fervor. "I'm leaving." This time her parents raised their eyes from their breakfast, concern clouding their normally lively pools of color. They didn't respond, just looked at her curiously, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I'm returning to Kansas." Again it was neutral, no emotion evident in the words that were sure to cause her parents pain.

"I can not allow you to go back to the Other Side to retrieve your belongings." The Queen sighed, picking up a piece of toast from the plate in front of her. "We've been through this before, Sweetheart." She took a delicate bite of the buttered bread.

DG groaned. The first week in the OZ had her yearning for some of her belongings. Simple things, really. Her sketch books and charcoals, some comfortable clothing, and her CDs and player were among the items she missed. She was sure someone, probably Ambrose, could find a way to adapt the player to an Ozian power source.

Her parents had vehemently denied her request. Claiming it wasn't the appropriate time for such an excursion. In reality she thought they were just afraid she'd give her guards the slip and not return to the OZ. Since Cain was still around back then she would have returned no matter how much she longed to stay behind.

"You still aren't listening," DG barked, shaking her head ruefully. "I'm going back to Kansas to live, not to pick up my things." She paused at the stricken faces of her parents but pressed forward after two calming breaths. "I don't belong here. Hell, I probably don't belong there either, but I at least feel more comfortable in the farm house then in any of the palaces on this side."

Gracefully her mother stood to her full height. It was imposing, with her regal posture and stern facial features. "I will not have my daughter return to such a life. You're place is here. In the OZ. With your family!"

DG mimicked the stance her mother had taken, eyes flashing hotly. "It is not your decision to make. I'm leaving and nothing you can do will stop me."

Some of the energy in her body gave out causing her shoulders to slump and her head to droop. The commanding presence she was trying to evoke was not her strong suit and hard for her to maintain. As much as she wanted to go back to her old home she didn't want to hurt her parents in the process.

"Is this because of Mr. Cain?" her father finally chimed in causing her head to snap up. Her eyes were heated, brow knitted as she stared daggers at Ahamo. At times he was too observant for her liking.

DG figured honesty, or some form of it, would be the best course of action. "Yes and no," she ground out. "Its everything. Glitch is gone, Raw is gone, and…" she faltered. She couldn't say his name, her tongue refused to form the syllables.

"I'm not saying it will be forever," she added, eyeing the floor with renewed interest. It wasn't a total lie. She didn't know how long she would want to stay in Kansas, and forever seemed a bit much, but there was no time in the foreseeable future she would ever want to be back in this place.

"I just need some time to adjust to this," she waved her arm vaguely, "all of this."

It was a long time before she lifted her head but when she did she regretted it instantly. If the angry face of her mother had her stomach in knots before, the pity laced on their faces this time was more then she could bear.

"Very well, Angel," the Queen acquiesced. "I guess with the temperament of the people in the OZ right now it might be best if you left this behind for the time being. But I can not allow you to go on your own..."

Before she could finish her statement, DG abruptly cut her off.

"I figured that. Ambrose was able to restore the memory cells of Hank and Emily," she paused slightly then, she wanted to call them Mom and Dad but knew it would tear her biological parents in two. "I thought they could come with me."

The fact they agreed with her decision was hard to fathom.

-----

She had to warn her companions. She had to tell them where they were, what to expect, even if they thought her to be insane in the process.

"Robbie, you have to listen to me," she spluttered, her head swimming causing two more Robbies to appear. "You can't call me DG here."

Confusion was written across his features. "What do you mean? I don't even know where here is."

"Well, I do," she stated back only to observe all of his eyes widen in surprise. "I know this will sound crazy but you have to believe me, in case…" DG couldn't say it, but she knew she might lose consciousness, and with her head injury who knew if she would wake up again. "We're in a place called the OZ. It's where I'm originally from and where I was for the month I was gone. I can't explain it all right now but this place has been through years of civil war." Now came the hardest part. "I'm a Princess on this side."

He reached out his hand and felt her forehead again. He didn't believe her tale. "I've never heard of the OZ."

"It isn't on Earth," she said. "I honestly don't know where it is exactly." It was the truth. In her limited time here she never asked, never thought about it. It just was. She just accepted it.

"Ok." Again, doubt.

"Look up," she commanded without force.

When he did lift his face to the sky she imagined his expression to be similar to the one she made after waking up from the first tornado ride. Robbie shook his head and blinked a few times in an effort to make the two suns meld back into one. Slowly, he lowered his eyes back to her.

"If you're a Princess, then why can't I use your name?"

Taking a few long breaths, she shook her head once more an managed to bring the count of Robbies back to two. DG continued her abbreviated life story. "I overthrew an evil witch when I was here and her supporters would love to get their hands on me. They've already tried." An involuntary shudder ran through her at how close she came to losing her life. "And before you go on about witches and magic, yes, I can do magic, too, but given my current condition," her eyes looked up and she pointed to her scalp, "I doubt I could do even the tiniest trick." DG looked at him imploringly. "Have I ever lied to you, Robbie?"

DG released a soft sigh when he shook his head no. "What should I call you?"

It was a valid question that she didn't have the faintest idea how to answer. Her given name, Dorothy or Gale, would still be a dead give away. But it had to be something they could remember. "Emily," her mother's name. It was the one legitimate name all of them knew well since the nurture unit hated formalities and chose instead for her daughter's friends to use her first name.

"Alright, Emily," Robbie smirked, "My you've changed."

"Oh, ha ha..." she spluttered.

"Is there anything else you can tell me about this place?"

He was trying to keep her awake, and boy did she want to sleep. But she forced her mouth to continue working. They had to be safe, and in a way knowledge was safety.

"You have to be careful."

"We," he corrected her.

"We have to be careful," she amended for his sake. "This place is beautiful but there are many dangers, and if I'm not mistaken we're in the fields of the papay."

"What are papay?"

"You don't want to find out," she said trying to sit up only to have Robbie push her back down. "We can't stay here!" she pleaded with him. "They'll kill us!"

Bending over her he placed one arm under her shoulders while his other hand took hold of her upper arm. Carefully he lifted her into a seated position and kept her there until her head stopped swimming. After a few moments he removed the arm from her back, grabbing hold of her other arm easing her to her feet.

The change in position made her slightly dizzy causing Robbie to latch an arm around her waist to keep her upright. DG gave a crooked smile up to him, and was thankful to observe there was only one of him. Slowly they made there way over to the others. Del was seated on a fallen log with Fran kneeling in front of him tying his right arm into a makeshift splint.

Fran's arms and legs were marred with bruises and small, surface cuts. She had one large bruise on the back of her calf that looked excruciating. As girly as she was, she was no sissy. DG knew she would walk through the pain.

Wiping the back of her hand over her brow, Fran sighed. In a swift motion she had her hair above her head, pulling the hair tie off her wrist securing it in position. The blonde locks were dusty and dirt filled in a very un-Fran-like fashion, but DG wasn't surprised that she still looked beautiful. DG envied her looks on occasion, and right then, when DG was a disheveled heap who was probably the worst looking of the three she longed for Fran's grace.

Turning her attention to the arm in the splint, DG almost retched at the sight. It was horribly swollen with a piece of bone sticking out about halfway between Del's wrist and elbow. She watched Fran take the long sleeved shirt she had worn over her current blouse in her hands. With more strength than DG thought she possessed the young lady tore the fabric to shreds. Tying some of the pieces together she tenderly laid the broken arm inside, securing the sling to his neck.

In that moment Fran reminded her of Raw. His gentle touch, the need to ease the pain of his companions was how her friend was treating Del at the moment. If only she had his full healing abilities so Del could have the use of his arm and her head would be back to pristine condition.

Subconsciously she scanned the area for one of those cocoons made by the papays. It was how they found Raw. Damn she missed the gentle viewer and his presence would certainly come in handy this time around.

Fran helped Del to his feet and the three of them looked at her. What a sight she must make. Fran moved quickly to her side, taking the remains of her shirt she wrapped them tightly around DG's head. DG winced at the pressure but once it was secure it actually made her dizziness lessen and the nausea that swept over her when she saw Del's mangled arm started to subside.

"DG can explain on the way, but we have to leave this place." Robbie addressed the other two. "We're in danger here."

He squeezed her side gently, reassuring her he didn't think she was insane. Hell, he saw the two suns, too.

"Which way?" It was calm but there was a desperation in his eyes that led her to believe she was worse off than even she thought.

Their options were few. They had to head towards a place occupied by the royal family which left three choices. The Northern Palace, but that was still a frozen mountain the last time she was here, and she couldn't risk them walking through snow and cold to get there. Central City was option two. She remembered her parents talking about heading there for a time to show the renewed strength of the House of Gale. But it would leave them very exposed since it was such a large gathering place for all sorts of people. The final choice was Finaqua.

God, she wished Cain was there. He would know where to go, what to do. He always knew the best course of action. And his company left her feeling safe and secure no matter what dangers lurked around the bend. It was something the four of them needed at the moment. She would have to mimic his quiet strength, she would have to be brave for them because if she quailed they would follow suit.

Closing her eyes she listened to the area. There was the sound of running water behind her, the river she knew to be west of the fields. Having her bearings, she opened her eyes and pointed south. "That way."

She only hoped they could get out of the fields in one piece, with no unnecessary jumps off a cliff in the process.

Better or Worse

2008-04-16T00:11:26Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13 for later chapters

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 2

***

"Friendship is certainly the finest balm for the pangs of disappointed love." -- Jane Austin

***

Determination was written across DG's face. The ten small, white figures in her sights stood ominously at the end of the alley. They wouldn't remain standing if she had anything to say about it. Three steps forward, she hurled the projectile in her hand down the lane. Nine fell with the force of the impact, but one refused to go down. It stood there, mocking her.

"Damn it," DG muttered under her breath. Turning to meet the faces of her friends seated behind her position. "Either I knock one pin down or everything but it!" She stomped to the end of the smooth wooden surface to wait for her ball to reappear. "It's so frustrating," she admitted, lifting the ball from the ledge moving without thought or strategy toward the fault line, tossing it down the lane. Not surprisingly, it missed.

DG heard snickering over her shoulder. Glaring, she turned around to confront the amused expressions of her childhood friends. Del was the first to speak.

"You'd think with all the bowling we did in high school you'd be better than this," he commented, waving his hand idly at the ten pins which had been reset.

"Oh, shut it, Del!" DG never took losing well, no matter what the game.

Grumpily she returned to her seat taking an extra step out of her way to smack Del lightly upside the head. Sitting down heavily on the uncomfortable chair she crossed her arms over her chest and pouted. This was the third game and the worst by far, or rather her worst. Even Fran was performing better than normal.

Her mind wandered, suddenly struck with the extreme mishmash of personalities making up their little clique. Over the years many wondered at the unique makeup of their group, and she honestly had trouble remembering what it was that brought them together in the first place.

DG was the epitome of the tom boy. Competitive to a fault and a sports junky, she spent much of her teenage years swept up in sports and machinery. Never one to wear dresses unless the occasion demanded it, she wore sweats and jeans constantly. The guys could not touch her knowledge of cars and it tended to agitate them. Robbie had gone with her to the motorcycle dealership and was the one to which the salesman directed all his questions. It wasn't until DG chimed in with questions causing him to flounder that he realized she knew what she was talking about and he wouldn't be able to sell her the biggest piece of shit on the lot.

DG watched Fran get up from her seat to take her turn. Graceful with perfect posture, DG was hit with the realization Fran was more suited than she to royalty. Lifting the eight pound ball from the return ledge she placed the long slim fingers of her right hand into the three holes. Cradling it in her other hand she walked up to the foul line. Spreading her feet shoulder width apart, she bent down and swung the ball between her legs, releasing it down the alley. It was still one of the most amusing things to watch. The ball rolled slowly down the lane giving Fran enough time to return to her seat.

"Strike," she stated confidently. "Mark it down."

"It hasn't even reached the pins yet," Del admonished, although given her previous insights during their teenage years, he did mark down the strike.

Sure enough as the ball hit the pins, one, two, four, seven, nine... Strike!

"That's so not fair," DG crooned. "You don't even play right."

"What can I say?" Her hands held palm up as she shrugged her shoulders. "Granny bowling works for me."

There was not a person on the planet who was more the opposite of DG than Fran. The beautiful blonde was the girly girl, in every sense of the word. From her perfect clothing and flawless hair and makeup to her manicured nails she would die if chipped. She went so far as to have pedicures year round, even in the winter when no one ever saw her feet. Tall for a girl, five-nine, curvy figure and long, wavy blonde hair had every guy in the place swooning.

As DG thought back, she supposed Fran became one of her closest friends in the fourth grade when DG picked her for her kickball team first instead of the girl being chosen last, as per usual. After that, the young girl's respect for the tom boy increased ten fold and she played her heart out in the kickball game, sending the winning run home.

It was a Friday, and Fran invited her new friend to her first ever sleepover. DG was happy scarffing down sundaes and watching movies. Even during a moment of insanity she begrudgingly agreed to a makeover and dress-up session. She snickered out loud remembering the horrible pink froufrou monstrosity she wore and the pictures Fran's mother took. If their family ever decided to blackmail her with them they would certainly get a lot of money, she would pay anything to keep those from seeing the light of day.

A palm suddenly encased her head, mussing up her hair. When it finally released its hold she raised her head to face the back of Del who was picking out the heaviest ball on the rack.

"Hey!" DG huffed, not really annoyed, as she tried to fix her wayward locks.

Glancing over his shoulder as he took up position at the end of the wooden step, "You're hair looks better that way." Quickly refocusing his attention to the game at hand he took three large strides, hurling the ball down the aisle with extreme power. They slammed into the offending pins creating a 7 - 10 split. "Shit," he exclaimed loud enough to cause the young girl in the next lane to trip over her feet.

Del was the true athlete of the group, large and in charge. The star linebacker for the town's football team and, if their little community was larger, he would have been a shoe-in for a full scholarship to some division I university. As it was, scouts never really came around.

A man people gave a wide berth. Six foot three, 225 lbs of pure muscle, he invoked fear into many a child. However, the best part, he was actually a gentle giant. Whatever happened on the field stayed on the field and he would often help fallen rivals to their feet after he laid them out. Del was the sweetest and kindest man you would ever hope to meet.

He waited at the machine for the ball return to spit out his weapon, running a hand over the buzzed brown hair on his head. When he had the ball in hand he moved as far left as possible and attempted to knock the ten pin so that it took out the seven. However, Del put too much spin on the ball and it missed both as it traveled between the two.

"And it's good!" DG yelled, holding her arms up like field goal posts.

Del grumbled something unintelligible as he shuffled back to the sitting area.

Their friendship started in the sixth grade when they became partners for a history project. Each group was given a Native American culture to study, theirs was the Incas. Their project was graded on accuracy, design and creativity. So, since their empire was difficult to establish because of the Andes mountains and the hard rocky terrain they decided to make a model of an Incan village.

Incorporating the mountainous country (steppes), an extensive road system and rope bridges into the scenery, they left the majority of the model for farm land. Then there were the homes and other buildings. Rectangular wooden structures without any dividers on the inside, they thatched all but one of the roofs so that the inside could be seen.

When she recalled sculpting llama's out of clay, since they were the primary pack "mule" of the culture, she was taken back even further to the clay figure she made for her father. At the time she wondered at how easily the clay worked under her fingers, forming the exact shape she pictured. Now she knew it was not the first time she had used such a medium.

The Incan village model earned them an "A" which Del took to display on the table in the foyer of his home. He was so proud of the grade since it was the first "A" he received in anything since elementary school. Following their partnership he joined DG and Fran on many of their outings, studying with them for tests or quizzes and started earning the highest grade on his own.

DG felt the person in the next chair shift toward her, breath hot on her ear. "You're beating Del by one point," he whispered in her ear and she smiled. She wasn't losing anymore. Not that she thought it would last for long, but she'd rub it in a bit. Reaching out she squeezed Robbie's hand in her own before he made his way to the front lines.

Quiet, introverted Robbie was a musician who ran to the beat of his own drum. It seemed possible for him to pick up an instrument for the first time and play flawlessly, though he preferred the keyboard and trumpet above all others. Jazz band totally fit his personality and even as a lowly freshman in high school he beat out the upperclassmen for the coveted solos. He still played to this day, having gone to college to pursue the musical arts, and joined a locally famous cover band. She knew he would be discovered someday.

The relaxed fit jeans and simple long sleeved shirt showed off his muscular build, even if he was on the skinny side. His light brown hair was styled in a way that made it look like he just woke up. It wasn't real long but long enough to appear wild and crazy, and she loved the way it looked on him. And his butt was almost as good as Cain's.

Damn. Nearly ten minutes without thinking about him. That had to be a record. She was determined to get her thoughts off the man.

"Hey, Del?" DG said in an offhand manner. When he turned to regard her with his stony stare her lips curled into a smirk. "What's the score?"

"We still have three more frames," he retorted hotly, not mentioning the actual points. "I won't be losing for long."

"We'll see about that," she laughed and returned her attention to the man with the bowling ball. His movements were almost as graceful as Fran's and she couldn't help but be impressed with the fluid arc of his arm. The ball flew down the polished lane, pushing through the pins at the end. All but one fell down.

Robbie became her friend in seventh grade. She was riding her bike home from Fran's house when it started to rain. She had just past his farm house when the moisture on the gravel made the front wheel spin out, landing her unceremoniously on her side. Scraped from knee to ankle, her right leg screamed in pain and her elbows were a bloody mess. Two hands grabbing hold of her under her arms lifted her to her feet. Robbie latched an arm around her waist, helping her through the gate to the house.

His mom washed and bandaged her leg and elbows, offering to give her a ride home once dinner was finished cooking. In the meantime the two classmates got acquainted playing Nintendo and listening to music. When he helped her to her door she told him she'd be turning around in English more often to talk to him. Robbie gave her the first of his smiles and she felt herself melt inside. The next day in school he sat with them at lunch, and every day after.

The art work adorning the slanted walls of her attic bedroom were only ever seen by her parents, and Robbie. When she was young they were of the five most important people in her life, but as she grew her dreams took over and the visions had to be drawn. Robbie never criticized her fantasy land, instead complimenting her creativity and encouraging her to make a story out of the jumble of scenes covering her room. She never headed that advice.

"Wow, deja vu!"

Robbie twisted around to make eye contact with her blue orbs. "Yeah," he responded, eyes twinkling in mischief. "But I'll knock the last one down."

DG scoffed at his comment. "Oh, really? Think you're all that, do ya?" She stood, feet apart and hands on her hips. "Wanna bet?"

"What do you have in mind?" he asked, feigning insult at her lack of faith in his abilities.

"How about if you miss the pin you buy the ice cream?" she posed. "For all of us."

"Then I assume you buy if I make the spare?"

"You betcha!" DG stated, taking her seat. "But I'm not all that concerned."

A few moments later DG was eating her words and knew she'd soon be paying for everyone else to eat them, too.

Well, at least these people managed to get her mind off her unrequited love. She couldn't begrudge them some dessert for all they do for her with just being present.

Better or Worse

2008-04-15T23:54:05Z

Title:

Better or Worse

Disclaimer:

General Info:

Rated PG-13 for later chapters

Angst/Romance

Author's Note:

I hope you like the story. PLEASE read and review. I love to hear your opinions.

Chapter 1

***

"People take pictures of the summer just in case someone thought they missed it, and to prove that it really existed." -- Ray Davies

***

DG sat quietly on the porch looking down at markings she could have drawn with her eyes closed. The piece of paper in her lap folded easily, the well used creases the perfect guide. Worn around the edges, it was smudged in places with dirty finger prints and minor grease stains. However, anyone who saw the care with which the young lady folded the dilapidated paper would know those blemishes were made from the constant need to look at the original decorations. A prized possession; something she cherished and carried in a place of honor by her heart.

Silently she surveyed the farmland as the one and only sun sank down under the flat horizon, waiting patiently for the sounds of an approaching pickup. The brand new, bright red truck would come to take her off to a life she had long ago thought boring and out of place. Now it was the only life she cared to keep. Robbie would be behind the wheel, Del beside him and Fran waiting for her company in the small back seat.

It was like old times, when the four of them would sneak off to the movies or to a party out past the Texaco Station. The main difference was this time she didn't have to climb out her window and down the rain spout. Nor would she have to hike across the field out of earshot of her parents. This time, there was nothing they could do to stop her. Not only was she an adult, but she was also their Princess. Although she never played that card DG kept it close at hand, just in case.

During the quest for the emerald she barely thought about the three people she befriended in middle school, growing phenomenally close as their teenage years swept by. It had been too hectic, running for her life, toward her missing memories. Now, they knew nothing of her true identity, her muddled past that even she could scarcely remember. It strained their relationship, especially the one with Robbie.

Before she was thrown back into the world of her childhood they had been on the verge of taking the awkward step over the line between friendship and something more. One day in the OZ made that possibility a distant memory. Too much happened on her voyage to ever consider crossing the metaphorical line with him, or anyone else for that matter. He had trouble understanding, not that she could blame him since she was unable to relay anything of her time away. However, he was being a gentleman and giving her the space she asked of him. It almost made her mad at the extent of his gentlemanliness.

This would be their first night out together in a few months, and she was looking forward to rekindling the friendship they lost.

The wind swirled around the farm house tossing her long dark hair around her head. The tornado season was in full swing but it no longer made her nervous, as it had in the past, now that she knew their true potential. She watched the sky through her tumbling locks, mesmerized by the colors and the whiffs of clouds coming together to block out the stars. The crescent moon was beginning its path across the sky making her shudder in remembrance of the solar eclipse nearly plunging the OZ into permanent darkness.

Even after a year and a half it still felt odd being back in Kansas. A part of her swore one day the memories of her brief time in the OZ would vanish, that it would turn out to merely be a dream. Whether it was lucky or not, her memories did not fade. One key reason had to due with her parents, Hank and Emily. The nurture units never let her forget her origins and how important it was to return to the Outer Zone after her need for freedom and routine were satisfied. The fact she never wanted to return had not crossed their minds, or rather their subroutines.

It was a comfort to be back to normality. Even if she had wished to pick up and run for the hills before the twister that changed everything, she now felt content at number 39 for the first time in her life. The harsh reality of the OZ was a shock to her system on so many levels.

Not long after the eclipse life in the palace became torture for her wild and independent nature. The constant footfalls of the entourage the Queen forced upon her made it impossible to let down her guard, always needing to be on her best behavior. And for DG, proper behavior was not part of her vocabulary. She would have swallowed the need to revolt if it wasn't for the loss of her friends. A shudder ran up her spine at the thought of the people she had held in such high esteem.

Without thinking she reopened the paper in her lap with extreme care. Running her fingers lovingly over the permanent creases marring the parchment they across the faces of her Ozian friends, her family. Before she left her birthplace she swiped one of the wanted posters the witch distributed far and wide. To her the flyer always seemed ironic, all four of them pictured but in different corners of a square. The backgrounds, wardrobe and expressions were completely different, much like the present.

-----

Sliding her fingers to the bottom right corner, DG traced the contours of the face of the fastest friend she ever made. There was no stopping the smile quirking over her lips when the memory of how appalled he had been at his appearance in the picture snuck into her mind. But this was not the same man.

All too soon the smile flipped to a frown.

Glitch was the first friendly face she met in the OZ and he was the first one she lost. The alchemists reattached his brain two days after the eclipse. He was too eager to become reacquainted with his former self to wait and the Queen agreed wholeheartedly to the operation. She also wanted Glitch back to his former glory. As soon as he regained consciousness it was obvious the man she met strung up in the midgets' cage was gone, replaced with a stuffy advisor wearing her friend's body. Ambrose would never be, could never be, her friend.

Everything about him changed. It felt like something straight out of a horror movie, something akin to Invasion of the Body Snatchers. Ambrose completely forgot, or just plain disregarded, the camaraderie they showed to each other during their journey. He was back to being the man in the photograph, the one stiff with purpose and rigid in formality. Throwing himself into his work, he started calling her "Princess" instead of the pet name to which she had grown accustomed. DG longed to hear him call her "Doll" again, a goofy grin gracing his face. But it would only ever be a hope. Glitch was gone, in every sense of the word.

Even his appearance changed. The torn and rumpled outfit was discarded for the clean, pressed uniform of the prestigious position of Queen's advisor. His hair no longer stuck up at awkward angles, clumping together where Glitch forgot to wash. It was combed, sleek and shiny, and not from the zipper in the center since that was removed during the surgery. Ambrose chose to part his hair on the side to cover most of the scar running from the back of his skull to the front. Only an inch of the pink scar peaked out from the hairline onto his forehead.

The drastic change to his personality and, as strange as it is to say, his hygiene left her edgy and out of her comfort zone. The only inkling DG had that Glitch was still around was the twinkle in Ambrose's eye whenever rhythm was mentioned.

-----

When a tear dripped onto the paper she gently brushed it away with her fingertips only to find them running over the furry friend who they almost left to be eaten by the papay. The vivid image of his roaring form pushing up from the crouched position where he tumbled out of the digestive cocoon would never be forgotten. It was a desperate attempt to frighten his rescuers which only lead to him being cowed by the pistol pointed at his head. DG shook her head ruefully, wondering how she had ever been intimidated by the gentle beast.

Raw had been next to make a hasty retreat once he saw to it Glitch healed properly. The palace was not a place he wished to live and after Lylo's passing his thoughts turned to what was best for Kalm. That led him to decide to return to the land of the Viewers with the love and gratitude of the Royal Family. The Queen made him an ambassador to his people which meant he would at least visit occasionally, even if it was only for business purposes. But, in DG's opinion, it just wasn't going to be enough.

To an outside person he always seemed twitchy and cowardly but she knew, from experience, he would overcome all his nervousness if the lives of his friends were at stake. He knew how to comfort with a look or a well placed hand and it was something she cherished after Glitch's sudden disappearance.

So, one week after Glitch awoke from his brain replacement DG found herself bidding farewell to yet another friend. The strength it took not to cry like a baby when she hugged him goodbye was almost too much, and in the end she knew it had been pointless to try. Raw sensed her feelings, patting her back consolingly during their farewell exchange. But he still left.

-----

Another tear slid down her cheek, off her chin to dampen the precious parchment. It wasn't the first time the wanted poster felt moisture, and more then likely it wouldn't be the last.

Her eyes swept to the right, the figure standing in the square next to her where he had stood for most of their uphill journey. The stoic face, short cropped hair and trademark clothing sent a chill up her spine.

Even eight years in the Iron Maiden and he still looked the same, down to the buttons on the leather vest. The only thing different was the look in his eye. The first time she saw the picture it was obvious it had been taken before his incarceration. His eyes didn't hold the remorse and guilt she saw every day since she pried open the door of his metal tomb.

DG knew from the start Cain would never stick around; in some respects he was too much like her, autonomous. Even though she admired that quality in him, it still hurt the day he voiced his wish to take off. He was the one she missed the most, and it broke her heart that he left her behind.

Over the course of their trek she unwittingly fell in love with the man, unbeknownst to anyone else. It took her years to discover the change in her feelings for Robbie, but only a few days time to shoot those to hell as Cain stood up to take his place in her heart. Guilt took up permanent residence in her veins. She was pining away over a man who had just lost his wife, and the knowledge he thought her dead for eight years did nothing to squash the shame.

Just three weeks after the witch's plans were thwarted, the prophecy fulfilled, Cain prepared to set out, much to her chagrin. Two were already gone; this would only serve to make her loneliness absolute.

Under extreme duress DG showed a calm demeanor the day of his departure, while she shattered to pieces on the inside. The whole -- If you truly love somebody you should let them go -- thing, was easier said than done. And in her opinion, whoever thought up that pearly nugget of advice had probably never had to put it to use. While she decided it was best to take the road less traveled, she was pretty sure she knew what the outcome would be; Cain had never been hers, not at all, and not ever.

An overwhelming longing to live her life in the comfortable embrace of denial engulfed her being. Unfortunately she had already moved past that stage, having moved on to accepting her feelings. DG wanted Cain, she wanted Cain badly.

Although the desire to hold him close and never let go coursed through her entire being, she managed to stick out her hand much like she had on the hill behind the tower. If her arms curled around his neck they would have clung on for dear life. And to make matters worse, he didn’t pull her into an embrace the way he had before the final battle.

They shook hands as if they barely knew each other, which in all likelihood was quite true. How well could you possibly get to know a person in just a few weeks time, especially when one person was locked up tighter than he had been during his lengthy imprisonment. His emotions were a complete mystery to everyone, and his heart was hardened after years of watching his family tortured while he could only stand on the sidelines, helpless to stop the images. It would have destroyed the heart of even the strongest man, and he was the strongest man she had ever known.

But she saw beyond the stony front and into his soul, his eyes were more expressive then any words he could ever have uttered. DG looked past the regret, the self blame, and saw the side he hid from the world. There was a sensitive and soft side he showed to no one lurking in the depths of his personality he worked hard keeping at suppressed.

Cain held her hand in his for longer then etiquette required, staring at her. The tears stung at her eyes but she pushed them back, refusing to cry, refusing to make him feel guilty for taking charge of his life better then she was able. When he told her he'd visit she didn't know who it was meant to comfort. He would come back, of that much she was sure, since he was not the lying type. But, DG had no doubt when he did visit they would be few and far between, making each one more uncomfortable as time passed.

It was hard to picture a reunion between them as anything but awkward. DG could see him walking through the corridors of the palace toward the chambers of the Queen, nodding curtly to her as he passed. Nary a handshake or touch of a hand to a shoulder between the two strangers the next time they laid eyes on each other. For that is exactly what they would become. The fate of becoming nothing more than strangers was all that was left for the two people who at one time held the life of the other in their hands. It was hard to fathom.

Once he released her hand, he turned quickly. In the next few moments she came to an awful realization. She ran, needing to catch up to his retreating figure. Grabbing him by the arm, she clung tightly to his limb, halting his stride. When he turned she could see the quirked eyebrow beneath his fedora. DG tried to let him leave, she truly did. But, in the end she knew if she didn't say something she would regret it the rest of her life.

"Please, Mr. Cain," she wheezed. The shortness of breath was caused by her nervousness, not from her sprint across the immaculate lawn. "Can we talk," she asked smoothly, looking around at the faces of her family and his son, "in private?"

"Princess, we've already said our goodbyes," Cain replied, the annoyance plain.

DG winced inwardly at his tone but kept her face as neutral as possible. The use of such formality only served to embolden her need to confess her feelings. "I know. It'll only take a few minutes." He looked at her skeptically. "It's important."

When he nodded she released his arm and led the way through the gardens to a patch of grass out of earshot from the rest of the people. DG nervously fidgeted with her hands and the bottom of her blouse trying to find the words that only a few moments earlier were clear in her mind.

"What's wrong, kid?" he asked, breaking the heavy silence engulfing the area.

The endearment that was such a part of their usual conversations shot the desire to show him otherwise through her veins. In an instant her shoulders straightened, her fingers loosened and her hands dropped down to her sides. Lifting her head DG turned to regard him with her blue eyes.

"I'm not a kid, Mr. Cain," she countered calmly before she could second guess her actions. "I haven't been for quite some time." DG was impressed with both the steady flow of words and the absence of any graceless inflections. She hoped her stance was reminiscent of her mother's lovely posture.

His mouth thinned out in a line, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat. "Princess, Jeb's waiting for me. What do you need to talk about?"

Everything was telling her to stop this absurdity, especially the niggling voices in her head, the ones sounding eerily like both sets of parents, Glitch and Raw combined. But she couldn't listen, wouldn't listen, until she spoke her peace.

"I don't know exactly how to tell you this but to come right out and say it." Her heart was pounding wildly in her chest.

"Somewhere along the way," she swallowed thickly. DG thrust her chin up and out, taking long, deep breaths, willing her body to remain upright. "I fell in love with you." The flush that threatened to cover her cheeks was forced away and she let her eyes express the reality of her claim.

Cain pushed the brim of his fedora up with two fingers so his eyes were finally visible and she found herself wishing the hat had not been moved. While DG was certain he wouldn't return her feelings she thought he would at least try to let her down easy. Unfortunately, with what she found herself facing, she could tell that wasn't going to happen. His eyes were devoid of any emotion, his mouth pressed even thinner than before.

"No, you didn't," he ground out through clenched teeth, his jaw twitching uncontrollably at the back near his ears. It was an order of sorts, not a question or a confirmation, but an all out order. -- No, you do not love me. There is no way you love me. Stop lying. Little girls such as you would not fall in love with a Tin Man twice her age. Yaddi Yaddi Yadda. -- Like she had any say in the matter.

His stare was scorching her skin with its intensity. She was surprised when she plucked up enough courage to respond, "Yes, I did, Wyatt." DG said his first name on purpose. It felt nice rolling off her tongue. For a long time she wanted to use it and the moment seemed appropriate to solidify her confession.

Cain stiffened further, hands fisting at his sides. "Don't call me that," he growled, and she flinched. While he had on occasion been frustrated with her he had never used that tone of voice.

Her strength began to falter. "I'm not going to ask you to stay..." she began only to be cut off by Cain.

"Good," he stated dully.

Tears started pooling behind her eyes again and she fought with everything she had to keep them at bay. It would do her no good to show such weakness.

"Why're you acting like this?" it was quiet but loud enough for him to hear her question. She watched him turn his back on her. Desperation took over. "I don't expect you to tell me you love me back but I..." Her heart stuttered to a halt when he cut across her words once more.

"I won't be coming back."

"What?" she whispered. Her brain threatened to shut down. "You said you'd visit." DG found herself stating the obvious. Never before had she felt more like a child.

"This changes things," he replied over his shoulder. "This is goodbye, Your Highness." Cain tipped his hat to her, placing the brim back over his eyes. "Stay safe, DG," he added as he walked away from her, forever.

It was quite some time before DG entered the palace, staring off at the opening in the maze where he had disappeared with his son in tow.

She spent most of the night crying herself into restless sleep.

The memory of the encounter still managed to overpower her composure. Tears flowed steadily down her cheeks and she had to lift the flyer off her thighs to keep it from being flooded.

Now, here she was on the porch in the pitch black, longing for something she never had, the love of a man, honest and true to a fault. A man she would have died to save. But he threw her away like a used Kleenex. She did what was required, saved the Outer Zone and its people, offering him comfort when it was needed and guidance when his brain screamed for revenge. Now she was of no more use Wyatt Cain, only a hindrance; a burden. Something to be tossed away once their usefulness was gone.

DG wiped at her cheeks, the moisture leaking through the spaces between her fingers. She missed him, them, something awful. A year and a half did not make it any better, which didn't seem right. She could only guess that distance did in fact make the heart grow fonder. Damn philosophers! she thought as the roar of an engine and bright beams of light coming down the driveway broke through her reverie.

Carefully she folded the treasured wanted poster, slipping it through the opening in her shirt to nestle it next to her heart. DG patted the place it was stowed and dried her face as she slowly made her way out to her waiting friends.

The Decorator

2008-04-15T02:47:12Z

Story Title: The Decorator

Rating: PG

Characters: DG, Az, Jeb, Cain, & Glitch

Disclaimer: With a heavy heart I have to say I do not own the characters or the story of Tin Man or the Wizard of Oz.

Warnings: You should read The Makeover first.

Summary: DG and Az decide to do a little redecorating

To say it was unusual for both Princesses to be up at such an ungodly hour was an understatement. In all the time following the eclipse neither Princess would willingly get out of bed before the crack of noon (or the Ozian version of midday). And when the maids would drag them unwillingly from their slumber, it would be, at earliest, just after dawn.

Maids did not last long assigned to one of the Princesses, mainly due to verbal harassment. There were threats made on not only their life, but the lives of any living thing they cared for, and they often had to dodge shoes and other objects lying within reach of the pissed off girls. Soon the Queen became adept at assigning a different woman to wake her daughters on a daily basis, leaving a month long lull before one of them would be back at the mercy of the tired (and angry) royals. She even begrudgingly gave the wakeup call women hazard pay as an incentive since it was the only way to keep them employed at the palace.

So, for DG and Az to be awake hours before the suns rose, was completely out of character. Anyone who saw them would know something was amiss. And they would most certainly stay out of their way.

The sisters were huddled together on a window seat in the middle of the royal wing. The rooms of both girls' could be found down the length of this particular corridor, along with those of their parents, Glitch, Raw, Jeb and Wyatt Cain (after all, they were considered family). Barely a word was discernable from the hushed whispers leaving the lips of the young women, and only a giggle every once in awhile managed to echo down the marble expanse in both directions.

"So," DG whispered. "Do you think the bed should go across from the door, or along the right-hand wall?"

Az captured her chin between her finger and thumb, wearing the most pensive look possible. People would have thought she was debating on a life or death situation and not the location of a bed.

"Across," she said after a few moments. "That way it can be seen as soon as the doors are opened."

Looking down at her lap, DG rolled the pencil in her hand around her fingers a few times before touching the tip to the piece of paper covering her thighs. The outline of a room was already sketched onto the paper when DG added the block designating the bed.

Unthinkingly she placed the end of the pencil between her teeth, chewing lightly on the wood while she gazed at the drawing in her lap.

"Ok," she mumbled around the foreign object in her mouth. "I assume the night table will go next to the bed?" A nod from Az and she marked down its measurements. "What about the wardrobe?"

"Oh, that's easy," Az commented. "Right inside the door." She watched her sister go to pencil in the large movable closet. "No, on the left side," she corrected before DG could make any lines that would need to be erased (erasers were a surprisingly hot commodity in the OZ and, therefore, used sparingly). Quickly DG moved the pencil to the other side of the door, shading in the new location of the armoire.

Soon they had the layout completed and smiled at their handiwork. It would not be long before they could implement their new design.

Folding up the parchment, DG placed it under the belt of her skirt (since the tailors refused to put pockets in her clothing) and the girls parted for their own rooms.

At the rising of the suns the maids were flabbergasted to find it was only necessary to open the door for the girls to be up and functioning. In less than thirty minutes the Princesses were heading down the hall, bodyguards in tow. Swinging their combined hands between them, they trekked off to the gazebo for DG's lesson with Tutor.

Since they were rather early, due to the short time it took to rouse them, they made many a pit stop along the way. The gardens were lovely in the early morning light and they occupied themselves with picking a bloom or two, placing them tenderly behind their ears.

The whinnying of the horses caught their attention and they quickly scampered to the large red barn blocking the path between the palace and the gazebo. Their joined hands glowed vividly just before they threw open the doors. Running inside, they hurriedly scurried around objects and workers, the hay crunching loudly beneath their pounding feet.

Their bodyguards were just coming into the stables as girls were fleeing out the opposite end, giggling like mad. Both men froze, mid-step, at the sight before them.

In the space between the pens on either side was a fully furnished bedroom. The dark wood of the furniture was almost the same color as the wood of the stalls. An open wardrobe sat to the left of the door, an unmade bed cluttered with clothing and nightstand situated right in front of them. Bewildered stable hands were looking back and forth at both the furniture and the men, utterly slack jawed.

A groan reverberated off the wooden structure and Cain glanced oddly at his son. Jeb was pale, blinking repeatedly as if to make the seen return to normal. Hesitantly he stepped forward reaching out a hand as he lifted an article of clothing off the bed. The dark blue boxer shorts were suddenly crushed in the fist of the young, irate Cain.

"DG!" he bellowed as he raced toward the place where they disappeared, fabric dangling from his clenched fingers. "AZ!" His father visibly blanched at the tone of voice Jeb had taken and the stable workers were dashing out of his way as he barreled through the structure.

He saw them trucking along the path toward the gazebo, glancing warily over their shoulders as they went. Then the screaming truly began. "You two get back here this instant, and put my things back where they belong!" Jeb's face was red and his eyes blazed with fire at the two Princesses as they put on a burst of speed and were suddenly out of sight.

As if a switch had been struck, Jeb began gathering his discarded clothing, shoving it in the wardrobe and closing the door with a resounding click. Hands pressed against the cool surface of the door, Jeb took a moment to gather his thoughts, his embarrassment at the messiness was apparent in his body language. A snicker from the entrance to the stables startled Jeb out of his musings.

"Won't get you, eh?" Glitch stated through his giggles. "Do you know how long it'll take to get all this back to the palace and up three flights of stairs?"

"It won't take that long," Jeb ground out through clenched teeth, ignoring the tightlipped smile his fathers was using to contain his laughter. "If I have to drag one of them back here kicking and screaming they're going to undo this or die!" he stated with finality.

"Now, now, young Mr. Cain," Glitch said managing to put an end to his chortling for the time being. "I seem to remember being told that threatening one of the Princesses was a no- no!" Some of his amusement was starting to seep out again. "Can't have their own bodyguard out to get 'em, can we?"

Unexpectedly Cain roared with laughter only to have Jeb punch him in the arm, hard. The pain radiating through the appendage did nothing to stop the guffaws coming from his father.

"I'd stop if I were you," Jeb warned, his voice dangerously low. "I wouldn't be surprised if you're next."

Cain hastily ceased laughing, eyeing his son suspiciously. "DG knows better than to mess with me," he commented, completely serious and without a trace of amusement. Neither man present could say whether it was to convince them, or himself, of the validity of that statement.

"We'll see," Jeb added before he was stomping through the barn toward the gazebo. As he was turning the corner out of view he abruptly stopped, whirling around to face his father.

"You better watch your back," Jeb declared, Cain's brows knitting together with the remark, and then he was gone.

Festival of Lights

2008-04-11T02:03:50Z

Story Title: Festival of Lights

Rating: PG

Author: cookie731

Characters: Cain/DG

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Tin Man or the Wizard of Oz.

Warnings: None
Summary: Things take an unexpected turn during a block party to celebrate the one year anniversary of the downfall of the witch.

Main Street in Central City never looked so incredible. Cain was in awe of the changes and decorations and overall mentality of the people along the crowded street. The first annual after the fall of the Sorceress was to be commemorated in the form of an extravagant block party, to which DG compared to a Mardi Gras-esque celebration, whatever that means, though Cain did not ask the Princess to elaborate. It would take too long and he still would have no clue what she meant anyway, so there was really no point.

Venders lined the sidewalks, offering their wares for a fraction of the normal cost in acknowledgement of the importance of the occasion.

Men sold food and drink in wide variety, every taste bud sure to have its desire filled. Spicy and sweet, salty and bland, food was by far the number one commodity seen along the front of the buildings. Drinks would take a close second, especially with the crowd of young adults and the multiple alcoholic beverages available at every turn of the head. It would not be long before people were stumbling, laughing and doing the unthinkable in the haze of an inebriated stupor.

Then there were the commemorative merchandise.

Surely all the children would try to persuade their parents into getting them the Ozian version of action figures. Cain, complete with fedora and duster, came with his own six-shooter; Glitch, zipper across his head and roundhouse kicks second to none; Raw, furry exterior and mirror accessory; DG in her Other Side clothing, holding Toto, with the twister symbol decorating her palm; Zero, leather clad and accompanied by the Iron Maiden in which he was imprisoned; and lastly, the witch. Not Azkadellia but the witch, old and hunched over, holding onto the emerald for which she so desperately sought, and lost, she even included a mobat pet.

The older patrons would be coaxed by various salesmen into purchasing more adult products. Some peddlers swore they owned a piece of clothing from one of the famous four, to which the four travelers were referred, trying to hock the items for much more than they were actually worth. However, even though none of merchants truly owned even a button of the original outfits worn by the travelers, they were sure to make a profit from the naive and the gullible.

Other products included emerald replicas hung on pendants, certain to catch the eye of any woman and open the wallets of their men. Six-shooters, supposedly endorsed by Cain, were going for a hefty sum. Other Side wear was in stock for young women wishing to emulate the youngest Princess. And these peddlers even went so far as to claim responsibility for the former advisor's self-defense skills, offering their services in a number of lessons in the art for a "small" monetary amount.

However, time pieces with the date of the witch's downfall and the phrase "Freedom At Last" emblazoned on each cover were no doubt going to be a best seller. It was just one of the many specialty items made for the Festival of Lights, as the Ozians were calling the celebration.

For a Festival of Lights it was going to be.

Multicolored streamers dangled between balconies and awnings, crisscrossing their way from one side of the street to the other. When looking up, the sky was barely visible beyond the ceiling of paper. Suspended from the surprisingly strong decorations were thousands of red paper-lanterns, making the whole block take on a crimson hue.

Banners swayed from window ledges expressing the peoples' feelings on one year of freedom. Some praised the House of Gale, DG in particular, while others either defamed the witch and her crony Long Coats or shouted the wish for this newfound liberty to continue. People from every corner of the Outer Zone came to pay tribute to the safety and security the House of Gale now provides. It was a sight to behold.

But the sight Cain was more preoccupied with was that of his friend and companion. Walking along the closed off street, he watched DG's eyes widen in wonder at the sheer immensity of the celebration, head spinning in every direction to take in her surroundings.

The glow from the lanterns above bathed her in red radiance, her skin pinker than normal, eyes turning violet with the combination of the two primary colors. Cain never thought she looked prettier and was feeling more and more self-conscious about this realization with the passage of time.

And, to his horror, he was not the only one who was captivated by her beauty.

Every male they passed eyed the Princess hungrily and Cain found himself glaring down too many to keep count. The lanterns were having the opposite affect on the faces of the men in the crowd, distorting their features, making them look more predatory than human. Eyes glowing red with want, they raked up and down the feminine body of their quarry. The pack of men made Cain uneasy, to say the least, and with the numbers of people on the street he was having trouble finding a means of escape if things turned ugly. So, there was a double purpose behind the hardened grip on the handle of his revolver; One, to try to keep the animals at bay and two, to keep himself sane.

Some were even bold enough to approach with the omnipotent Tin Man at her side. DG, ever the cordial sovereign, took it in stride, smiling thoughtfully at their obvious attempts at seduction, twisting Cain's stomach into knots with every upward inflection of her lips. And with each new admirer who swaggered over to the alluring young lady, Cain's blood pressure tripled, soon it was threatening to give the man a coronary.

One final brute wormed their way over to DG and actually had the audacity to snake an arm around her waist while going in for a kiss before he even uttering single word. Cain lost the tenuous hold he had on his anger and snapped. The man had barely begun to lean in when he was heaved back by the collar, tossed unceremoniously onto the hard concrete. Cain pulled back a heavy fist, preparing to flatten the nose of the bastard sprawled at his feet but a soft hand on his arm stilled his motion.

"Don't," DG whispered. "It's not worth it."

Cain bent at the waist so his face was mere inches from the prone figure. "You ever touch my Princess again the last thing you'll see'll be my fist breaking your jaw."

Standing up Cain placed his hand on the small of DG's back, ushering her away from the blatant scene he just made.

"So," she said quietly as she halted suddenly, effectively stopping him as well, his fingers still splayed over the silky smooth fabric across her waist. As she looked at him out of the corner of her eye, her lips quirked up into a soft smile. "Your Princess, eh?" And her smile widened to its full capacity as his face flushed hot.

When he said nothing in response she took a small step to stand right in front of him, her hands pressing lightly against his hard pectoral muscles, face tilted upwards. Cain looked down at her from under the brim of his fedora, his hand still flared over her back, and swallowed thickly. Both were oblivious to the dozens of people who stopped in their tracks to watch the encounter unfold.

"I think I like the sound of that," DG practically purred, sliding her hands up the remainder of his chest and around his neck to play with the small blonde hairs at the base. Slowly he wound his other arm around her waist, pulling her in closer to his body until they were sensually pressed up against one another.

"You've always been my Princess," he whispered huskily in her ear before he captured her lips with his own. It was not soft or tender, but needy and urgent like he would die of thirst without her lips there to quench his desire.

When they finally parted, Cain leaned his brow against the forehead of the small woman in his arms. Both of them were glowing red in the twilight which had nothing to do with gleam from the canopy of red lanterns above.

"Always will be," he added, securing her hand in his larger one. Running his thumb tenderly over her knuckles, they walked in amicable silence back to the palace to continue their wanton exchange in private.

The Makeover

2008-04-08T22:28:10Z

Story Title: The Makeover

Rating: G
Author: cookie731

Characters: DG, Az, Cain, Jeb & Glitch

Disclaimer: I do not own the characters or the story of Tin Man or the Wizard of Oz.

Warnings: None

Summary: DG decides to do a makeover.

Giggles erupted from the two young ladies and they quickly shoved hands over their mouths to keep the noise from penetrating the wooden barrier between them and their guards. As it was they were all for a little privacy, both physical and mental, and were ecstatic with the thought of their own private joke. This was the most fun the sisters had in a long time.

Quickly, DG ran from the large sitting room, down the hall and into her bed chambers four doors down. Diving into her cluttered armoire, chucking clothing, photo albums and shoes every which way she finally found her goal. Standing up awkwardly, tossing her hair haphazardly out of her face in the process, she held a small black case in her hands. Without giving the items now strewn around her room another glance, she returned to the sitting room and her sister.

Azkadellia was standing by the large full length mirror, occupied with scrutinizing her current appearance. Smoothing her hands down the front of her simple day dress, a languid green and yellow cotton ensemble, she turned slowly to inspect all angles.

Silently DG plopped the case down on the table next to the settee behind Az, undoing the fastenings and opening the top to reveal her limited Other Side cosmetic supply. She had never been the prissy, girly type so the makeup she had was mainly an attempt by her mother, nurture unit, to "girlify" her, so to speak. It never took. The makeup came out on the rarest of occasions, prom mainly. But since Emily at least made sure she had all the necessities, it would certainly suffice for this makeover.

Opening the powdered foundation, she dabbed in the brush, tapping off the excess. Sweeping it across cheeks, chin, forehead and nose, it managed to cover every imperfection. The flawless appearance was remarkable and the girls softly smiled at each other, completely impressed with the change in complexion.

DG picked up the eyeliner and placed a finger on the corner of the eyelid, holding it firmly in place without stretching it to the side. When prom time came, with all its nerves and insecurities, she was in desperate need of knowing proper application techniques. It had been Fran to the rescue. One week prior to the festivities she came over, instructing the talentless girl in the subtleties of what DG liked to call war paint. So, in slow, short motions the eyeliner trailed over the sensitive skin leaving a dark brown mark in its wake. Neither girl really took notice until that moment just how much the simple pencil could reveal the shape of an eye and they both had to shove a hand back to their lips to stifle their laughter.

Az held up a few different eye shadow colors to DG in order to pick the perfect one. It wasn't long before each eyelid was covered in a light tan from lashes to brow and accentuated at the far corners with a dark green. The girls just knew the added color would make the eyes pop. Then in small gentle circles DG moved the larger brush over the lids in order to do a little blending of the shades.

Blush was next. A pale pink applied to the apple of each cheek and swept back across the prominent bones. According to DG it was a miracle she remembered almost every tiny detail. But as she looked at her work she was pleased with how it was turning out.

Mascara followed all the powders so the particles would not stick to the lashes after application. A dark brown mascara, just like the eyeliner, would finish off the eyes perfectly. Carefully the brush was placed beneath the lashes, shimmied a bit to make sure the tiny hairs separated before moving the applicator upwards. After DG repeated the process with the other eye she gave more definition to the tips of the lashes by adding just a little more of the liquid color.

The lips were the last to be enhanced. It took the girls a good five minutes to decide on a shade since lipstick was the one item which DG had the most variety. Dusty Rose? Pink Satin? Pink Melon? Rich Cocoa? Nutmeg? Gingerbread? None of them jumped out screaming... USE ME!... until Az picked up the tube of apple berry. Both girls flushed hotly at the sight of the fiery red lipstick, knowing it was the exact color required. So, after lining the lips the red paint was smoothed over the tender, plump skin.

It was perfect.

After close inspection Az let out a snort of laughter before she could stifle the outburst, and the sisters made a run for it. Out the doors and past Jeb and Wyatt who were on duty, they sprinted down the hall with everything they had. The Cain men made to chase after the two Princesses until a shrill cry from the sitting room made them stop short.

Poking their heads around the now wide open doors there was no stopping their barks of laughter. Both men bent over in hysterics, the mirth echoing off the marble floors and stone walls was loud enough to be heard on the other side of the palace.

Standing there, face done up like one of the Princesses for a ball, was Glitch.

"I'll kill DG!" Glitch roared, staring at his beautiful reflection in the mirror.

"Now, now, Zipperhead," Cain wheezed trying to gain control over his fits. "You can't go around threatening my charge, no matter how pretty she made you look." He lost the tenuous hold he had on his hysteria and began snickering again.

Glitch turned to glare heatedly at father and son. "This is NOT funny!" He was fuming. "I look like a clown!"

Jeb waved one hand in the air while the other wiped the tears from his eyes. "You should've known better than to fall asleep behind unlocked doors," he chimed in. "Didn't you wet your pants the last time when they stuck your hand in warm water?"

This caused Glitch to blush to the roots of his hair and both men to begin chuckling again. Jeb had to lean heavily against the wall for support while his father was hunched over, hands on his knees.

"Yeah," Cain added, taking in a much needed breath. "And I believe you ended up with a face full of shaving cream the time before that."

"You just wait," Glitch said. "Wait till they get you!"

The Cain men shot each other a look, clearly saying, 'Yeah, Right!' before returning their gaze to their friend. Glitch huffed; his mouth pressed thin, and whirled around to make a beeline for the bathroom.

"That shade of lipstick really suits you!" Cain shouted as Glitch slammed the door, their laughter following close behind.