And we're back! Sorry about the brief hiatus from this, I've been induging my other Neal obsessions: Boomtown and Medical Investigation. And would you believe there's only 16 stories in the Boomtown section?? I was totally shocked. There will definitely be a requested ficlet in it for anyone who can help me in my quest to fatten up that category- I'll be waiting for more McNorris fics with bated breath!

BTW, I still don't own a damn thing- though I'm tempted to patent both Pool Boy Cain and Fluffy Deeg.

Cain rolled his shoulders as the line of carriages and mounted guards wound their way through the dense foliage. He'd be glad to finally reach the Eastern Guild's near infamous 'City in the Sky,' if only to get out of the damn saddle. He was likely to be the only one glad, however. He'd over heard several of the guards discussing the Munchkin fighters in much the same terms that their princess had used; though 'lawn gnomes' were a distinctly Other Side terms, 'ankle-biting midgets' held a similar spite to it.

The thought of his princess had him glancing back over his shoulder at her carriage. It was the first time they'd had to use one of the damned things. In Central City, the open air motorcars had been the royals' mode of transportation as they'd wanted to allow their people to see them. For this solo trip across the O.Z., however, both Cain and Ahamo had decided they needed to keep the youngest princess a little less open to attack. To those ends, they'd nearly doubled the number of guards, and both Cain men would be overseeing the men. And, in a last minute decision, the Princess would travel by carriage.

Imperceptibly, Cain shuddered as he studied the transport. Lady Falderol, the Mistress of Etiquette, had deemed it grossly inappropriate for the young princess to even be seen as they traversed, and thus, every curtain on the massive carriage was drawn tightly closed. Cain patted his horse in gratitude. He'd 'decided' to ride, citing maneuverability as his reasoning. In reality, he couldn't imagine actually riding in the stuffy conveyance. Just looking at the damn thing kicked his claustrophobia into high gear. He shuddered again, and almost turned away before he noticed one of the men closest to the carriage frowning a little. The guard, his own son Jeb, saw his commander looking and raised a hand to beckon him over.

Jeb didn't even have to tell his father what was wrong; Cain heard the muffled sobbing as soon as he drew even with the carriage. His brow furrowed. It was unlike DG to let herself cry where anyone might hear her. He called out to the driver to halt the carriage and swung down from his horse. "Princess?" He knocked lightly against the door, before opening it and slipping silently inside.

He swallowed a curse as his eyes adjusted to the darkened interior. There, pressed tightly against a wall and trying desperately to keep herself silent, was DG. Her eyes, now red from weeping widened as she recognized him, and she lunged across the carriage to throw herself into his arms, babbling frantically about how she couldn't breathe and the coffin and and and…. He mentally cursed himself to hell and back as he realized she'd been suffering from the same ailment that he'd escaped on horseback. "Ozma, Deeg." Cain stroked her hair as she sobbed silently into his vest. "Why didn't you say something, sweetheart?" She didn't answer, just tried to burrow even deeper into him. He let her cry a moment more, before pulling her back to meet his eyes. "Let's get you out of here, O.K.?"

Her lip trembled. "But… I… Cain, I'm sorry… I don't want to be a a bother to everyone and I just-" She buried her face in her hands. "They're all gonna see…"

He raised an eyebrow at her, truly exasperated. "See what? That you're human?" He gently tugged her hands away to make her look at him. "There is nothing wrong with being afraid, DG. Absolutely nothing." A denial on her lips, she searched his face, eyes darting frantically for some sign that he might be lying to her. Finding none, she sagged and nodded.

He pulled her to the door, both of them ignoring the useless shoes she'd been instructed to wear and that had probably only lasted as long as it had taken the carriage door to close. Cain stepped out, taking his reins from his son's hands absently. His attention was focused back on the young woman hovering in the doorway, trying desperately to hide her face in her hair. "Will you be alright up behind me, Princess?" he asked voice low. She nodded, and he climbed into the saddle. Without a word, he maneuvered his horse closer and she leaned over and slid behind him, arms banded tightly around his waist and face buried into the familiar duster.

"What exactly is the meaning of this?" A strident voice behind them had both Wyatt and Jeb glancing back. Lady Falderol was climbing out of her own carriage, displeasure clear on her lined face. "This is hardly proper, Commander Cain. Just look at her!" Leaning heavily on her driver's arm, she stomped over to the mounted pair. "A princess should not be seen riding behind one of her guards like a common strumpet! Her skirts are bunched up around her calves; she's not even wearing shoes for Ozma's sake. What exactly are you thinking?" She took a breath, clearly intended to continue in her tirade, when Cain's voice halted her.

"Enough." His voice echoed like ice in the almost deadly quiet. The guards had gone silent as their Commander emerged with the trembling princess, but their expressions were almost as murderous as Cain's. "You will not refer to the princess in such a manner for any reason at any time." DG's hands fisted even tighter into Cain's vest at the controlled menace in his words.

Lady Falderol went rather pale. Her voice was hesitant as she answered. "I, I apologize, your Highness. But, Commander. Surely you understand that propriety is at stake. Don't you see, this is utterly unacceptable?"

Cain covered one of DG's hands with his own, the gentleness of the act belying the violence in his voice. "Lady, I'm not responsible for propriety. I am responsible for the safety and well being of the princess. It would be unacceptable for me to put her back in that thing when it's so obviously damaging both!"

The Mistress of Etiquette quailed under his glare but made one last attempt to win the argument. She turned her gaze to Jeb, as if he might challenge his father's authority. "Captain?"

Jeb met his father's eyes for a moment, before glancing deliberately down to where the Princess had laced her fingers with Cain's. His father swallowed, but he met his son's eyes squarely, only tightening his grip on DG. Jeb seemed to decide something. He turned back to Lady Falderol, eyes eerily like his father's. "The Princess is staying where she is." He smirked a little at the woman's despairing look. "If you're so worried about her skirts, then fix 'em." He turned away, dismissing the woman from his mind. Both he and his father ignored her as she crept forward and carefully arranged the young Princess's skirts to cover her legs to the ankle. "Commander, what are your orders?"

Hand still locked with DG's, Cain shot his son a grateful look before resuming his steely expression. "Re-group our soldiers in formation around myself and the princess. Might as well move the carriage to the end of the baggage train. We won't be using it again."

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