Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed
Author: strangelittleswirl
Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: This chapter is rated G.
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.

Once, at the Hilltop, a trucker by the name of Norton had chocked on a French fry, and DG had given him the Heimlich. They had called it a feat of bravery. DG had called it ensuring that she got her tip. She did, and a small article about her in the newspaper.

Then, she walked into work early one morning and had found another waitress on the ground, not breathing. She had dialed 911 with a cordless phone on speaker and performed CPR until the medics arrived.

So when Wyatt Cain fell over only a few moments after the eclipse and everyone sort of looked at him in shock, after Raw said he wasn't breathing, DG did the only thing she knew to do.

The room was starting to spin, but she continued to count out loud.

"Please," she begged out loud, and pitched sideways, feeling her cheek pressed against the cool marble. She was able to open an eye to happily note that the blonde man was sitting up and coughing. But at least that meant he was breathing.

A small smile formed across her lips, and it vaguely concerned her that it took a lot of energy to shape it, but then she slipped into the black.

DG woke with a start, gasping and sitting up.

"Ohnoohnoohnoohnononono." It was one nice long word that trailed out of her mouth as she grabbed up clothing to throw on, cursing her stupid alarm clock. DG hopped as she shimmied into a pair of jeans that looked comfortable enough for the day. There was a sweatshirt on the back of her desk chair, and that would have to suffice, because she simply did not have enough time for a sniff test her shirts. It was cold in that room, anyway.

Orange juice was in a glass next to a bowl of brightly colored cereal. It made her smile.

"Ready?" came a voice from the door, and she rolled her eyes.

"Which one of you lucky boys is escorting me today?"

"Princess, all three of us will be escorting you, as usual," was the terse reply from the Short One. It was hard to remember the names of her Seven (literally) Dwarves. Well, there were seven of them. She did not mean that they were all dwarves. Except for Short One. Who was short. It always helped to be descriptive.

DG sighed. "A girl cantry."

And off they went, crossing the two or three streets it took to get to their destination.

People would have that it was strange, for the girl to be followed around by three men into the building; they were all quite serious looking men. DG had heard about one of them making babies cry the second he walked into a room.

So it was a good thing no one could see them.

DG had gotten the idea for the device, which Glitch had made easily, from something she called "Doctor Who". DG said she wanted one too, to feel like Martha, but the former Advisor had enough control of his half of a brain to realize that giving the girl a means of disappearing was probably not a good move.

"So you keep doing that not-be-seen thing you are all so wonderful at, and I'll be on my merry way," she said, accepting the heavy book bag from Blondie. He nodded.

"Enjoy your lecture, Princess. We will be situated at the back of the room."

With a sigh DG started to climb the wide, white cement slabs that made the stairs to the ivy-covered building.

Another typical day of college life had begun. Typical for DG, but not for a college student.