Alarmed
By Shahrezad1
Summary: A comedic one-shot of alarming proportions. Light DG/Cain.
Disclaimer: Don't own, so please don't sue or Mary Sue, either (heaven knows we have enough of them both already).
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Bzzt. Bzzt.
The familiar sound of her alarm insistently, if monotonously, informed DG that it was time to get up. Which really shouldn't have earned any sort of punishment for said object.
After all, it was an innocent party; a creature of invention created via clockwork machinery for that specific purpose, at the behest of the resident Glitchy inventor himself. Yet with all the irritation of an Othersider accustomed to such 'everyday' mechanical beings, the girl swatted its upper ridge without a care for how long it had taken to detail the metal siding. Silencing it for a few more blessed minutes.
Until the mechanized 'soldier' again continued its duty.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Another quick bop, almost reflexive in nature, took care of that. And DG felt some semblance of minor victory coursing through her subconscious, consequently followed by a continuation of her previous pillow snuggle (while, of course, imagining its replacement).
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Her dream bubble became a little hazier, the image of a certain Tin Man starting to fade out. And scowling, the Slipper clenched her arms around the stuffed bag of feathers in a desperate attempt at getting the dream to stay. But her mind was starting to notice that it was a bag of feathers and not the real thing, regardless of what her heart had to say, and that was part of the problem.
Additionally, the red light of a hazy dawn was slowly filtering through cracked eyelids, reminding the young woman of something she was desperate to forget. Namely, responsibility, diplomacy, and every single rotten ambassador and his (transforming) dog, all bent on making her life a complicated swamp of 'thees,' 'thous,' and 'did you see what she did today?'s.
As a result, the slap was harder this time. And for a second the clock feared for its safety, teetering upon the bed-stand's edge. Five minutes later it had no choice but to continue its dark duty, metal cogs practically cringing away under DG's disapproval.
Bzzt. Bzzt.
Dark curls and tangled bangs popped out from under the embroidered coverlet, cranky blue eyes glittering side by side with emerald-colored beading. But before she could hit it one last time someone beat her to the punch. Very much literally.
The lock on her door caved in with a bang, pressured as it was by the weight of a single determined boot. The metal piece snapped in an instant, oak barrier slamming fiercely against the opposite wall.
Jumping to attention from within her bed, the Slipper-Princess whirled around just fast enough to watch as a man only in rough pants, open undershirt and fedora took a sideways turn, aimed, and fired all in a single instant.
The clock didn't stand a chance.
Meanwhile, the gaping look she shot at him (not quite as literal as his own shot) neither daunted the man nor cowed him as he gave her a respectful nod, both of them dressed as they were in their sleeping finery. But his next words did provide an answer.
"If you don't turn it off next time, I will."
And then with another dramatic sweep, Wyatt Cain exited the room. And DG was left to wonder if her magic had the ability to resurrect blasted tin (of two kinds), and if so how would her 'unofficial, official' bodyguard react to repeated wakeup calls.
Particularly if he was going to enter her room dressed like that.
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AN: Written after my roommate's alarm clock was allowed to sound, uninterrupted, four times in a single morning. I was not happy. But after getting over my anger, I decided to inform her of my irritation in a more positive manner. ^^
Also, does anyone else find it interesting to note that the original Tin Man, from the book, was clockwork-related. So saying, I felt more than a little pity for the poor alarm clock.