Disclaimer: I neither own nor am I responsible for the characters or close approximation to character represented in this fiction.

Summary: Getting to know you, getting to know all about you–behind bars. A friendship story between Cain and Glitch. Voluntary slash perception welcomed though not intended.

If you are a reader of my stories you know I usually stop writing in the middle. Rest assured, though, that this story does have an ending and has already been written out. I will be fine-tuning the chapters as I post them and so no need for expected disappointment from this one :).

Constructive criticism appreciated and will fine tune with suggestions provided that I agree with.

Chapter One:

Prisoner's of Curiosity

"This is all your fault, you know," he said, pacing back and forth in the small room. His coat picked up the created wind as it struggled to keep its place at the advisor's back.

"My fault? I was just following you!" the taller man protested. His sharp blue eyes locked with his friend's form as he paced from one side to the other.

"And why on earth would you do that! Hellooo. Headcase," he replied, emphasizing the statement by poking his temple.

"I assumed that since you got your marbles back you'd do well enough to find your way around a castle," Cain said.

Ambrose huffed. "Well, apparently I'm not very good with direction with or without a brain. And it wasn't exactly as if my brain was kept in entirely ideal conditions. Floating in green...goop...with wires attached to it and an eternal feeling of detachment doesn't exactly provide a perfect preservation. I mean, how would you feel if you knew you could reason and think but couldn't even blink because you didn't have eyelids, eyes, a head, or a body! It doesn't exactly make for a completely successful reintroduction to the already addled brain of a former queen's advisors, I must say."

The monologue had come so quickly that Cain lost track of it. So it was no surprise that his response wasn't one of his more educated ones.

"...What?"

"Never mind," Ambrose growled and continued pacing.

Now one might wonder how the two could become locked in a holding cell at what could only be called a dungeon to the castle at Fen Aqua. Saying that this wasn't the plan was an understatement. The plan was to find the queen's old dresses in order to properly dress her eldest daughter. Az wasn't exactly a fan of the clothes the witch had imposed on her during her reign on both the O.Z. and her body.

Ambrose had been certain he could remember where the basement closet was. All would have been fine if when they'd come upon the dungeon they had headed back, but Cain had to become curious, ask questions, and ultimately the old, unused holding cell door did the rest.

It didn't help Cain's conscience that the queen had ordered him to make sure Ambrose got there and back safely. But, in his defense, he had gotten caught up in Ambrose's story about the dungeon. The dialogue went something like:

"Where are we?" Cain had asked, exploring inside the cell of a place that looked suspiciously like a prison.

"Oh this?"Ambrose followed him in. "This is the castle dungeon. It was originally not going to have a dungeon and it really hasn't been used at all. Looking back, it might have been a little brash to add one as there really wasn't a reason for it, the castle being in such a relatively peaceful area, but it's always good to be prepared. You never know when someone..."

A large screeching boom.

"What was that?"

"Holding cell door," Ambrose replied.

"Does that mean—"

"Yep."

And that brings us to the present. This would be the part where they try to blame each other for their predicament, ultimately discovering that it didn't matter who's fault it was but that they really should find a way out.

Cain watched Ambrose pace for a while longer before losing his patience and holding the advisor's shoulder still.

"How do we get out of here?" he asked, his teeth gritting. He wasn't exactly a fan of being locked up.

Ambrose looked from him to the door. He cocked his head and looked around for how the cell door worked. He shrugged off Cain's arm and leaned on the bars looking up at the mechanism that was responsible for raising and lowering the door. Central City had a similar system. He had invented the mechanism for quick recovery and imprisonment without fumbling around with keys.

It took him a few tries of angling his head with the small entry slit at the top but finally he was able, halfway climbing up the door, to see what had happened.

"It was hanging on a thread as it was," he explained, squinting at the damage. "I advised that they should use a stronger metal rope, less likely to rust but there wasn't much care for this dungeon as it was assumed that it wouldn't be used very much. The vibration of walking into the cell must have been just enough to let go the rope bracing the door up. That means we won't be able to manipulate the lever at the side to raise it. It's locked into place but perhaps we can pull it up with enough strength to break the locks. It seems like a logical presumption that the locks are just as rusted as the rope was. Isn't it amazing how a simple pulley system such as this can be so efficient."

"Whatever we do let's do it fast, hm?" Cain said, impatiently.

"Claustrophobic?" Ambrose asked, curiously.

"Locked in a metal suit?" Cain replied.

"Oh, right," he said, brow furrowed. "Well, let's try to pry the door OOOP!" Ambrose fell from the height he'd climbed on to the cell floor. He quickly recovered before Cain could help him. "I was...always a little clumsy," he explained, dusting himself off and smiling nervously.

Cain glanced at him but said nothing about the self-proclaimed clumsiness.

"So, what do we do? Just grab bars and try to open the door?"

"Pushing it up, yes," Ambrose confirmed. "Just...take the bars from the bottom..." He hesitated before gingerly grabbing hold of a pair of horizontal bars. "And pull up!"

Cain squatted and took hold. They nodded to each other and through an intense process of grunts, groans, and popping joints the two fit (though admittedly middle-aged men) were quickly losing the battle. After a good five minutes of this collaborative straining Cain stood up with a grunt and decided to study the walls for imperfections instead. Ambrose didn't realize Cain had left and when he looked back around at his friend he saw a butt swerving this way and that, ahead of which was the straining face of the queen's advisor.

Cain crossed his arms.

"Glitch," he called. No response. "Glitch!" Nothing. "Hey, Ambrose!"

Ambrose jumped and spun around, leaning against the bars. "I don't think this is going to work," he replied breathlessly. He looked down at his hands. They were covered with rust and dirt. His face shriveled at the sight. He started to wipe them on his pants but they were new pants as well as his coat. Finally he resigned to rub his hands together getting the dry dirt off as best he could.

"Yeah. Is there another way out?"

"Ummm..." Ambrose tapped his chin idly. He suddenly looked hopeful! Of course there was! There was that...well...actually "No," he finally answered matter-of-factly.

Cain growled and hit the wall with his fist. He slid down in a huff.

"Listen, tin man," Ambrose said, leaning a hand against the wall, then looking at his hand and brushing it off of dirt. "This place could use a good clean up. Anyway, everyone up there knows we're gone, right? So given enough time there should be a search party for us. Soon enough we'll be laughing about this tomorrow night at dinner. Oh, the antics of tin men and advisors! Oh that crazy Cain and Ambrose. Always the mismatched pair, those two. Always getting into trouble, those two."

He looked down at Cain who was doing anything but smiling.

"Well, maybe YOU won't be laughing. But I can guarantee it will be a riot back at the castle with the queen. She has a great sense of humor. I just love to hear her laugh. You know, when I was the Ambrose before I was Glitch I wasn't very good at making her laugh. But being Glitch has certainly offered me a sense of humor. Well, that and a considerable amount of brain damage." A giggle. A far off look. "But it does my heart good to see the queen smiling no matter what the cost."

"Glitch."

"Yes, Cain?"

"Shut up."