AN- A LOT has happened since the last time I updated. I defended my thesis and graduated with my Master's, I got a job, and I moved across the country (and way, way, WAY north) to Alaska! There were some serious bumps along the way and my parents are still being forced to watch my asshole cats for me, but at least I'm finding the time to write again and I've finally gotten internet access! Anyway, everyone please enjoy! Notes on my OZ references are at the bottom like usual.

Chapter 7 - Poppy Girls

Sprawled over his throne of iron, the Wicked Warlock of the West surveyed the crystal ball before him with a frown. "She's nearly made it to the Emerald City. How has she already nearly made it to the Emerald City?"

The tall and formidable Winkie man at his shoulder leaned forward to gaze into the crystal ball, reaching up to adjust his glasses before straightening back up. His green face frowned out from under the grey fur of his large hat. This was CAM, Winkie general and the only person that had willingly gone into the Wicked Warlock of the West's service. Rumour had it had been CAM himself who had invited the warlock to invade Winkieland, granting the man a detailed plan of invasion. Considering it had worked, the opposition slaughtered and the castle taken with ease, with Moriarty promoting CAM to the head of his intelligence network, no one was willing to question the fearsome and odd man to find out if the rumours were true.

Clearing his throat, CAM removed the spectacles from his nose and carefully cleaned them as he gazed at Moriarty. "I've been analyzing her movements and I do believe the reason for her ongoing success lies within her companions."

Rolling his eyes dramatically Moriarty scowled at the green faced general. "Noooo. Really?" he asked, voice dripping sarcasm.

CAM turned and nodded to him, the movement almost a little bow as he clicked his back heels together. "Yes. My analysis would indicate-"

"SHUT UP!" Moriarty roared, leaping to his feet. He stalked towards the crystal ball as Moran and CAM fell back, wary of their lord when he was in such a mood. "She should never have made it this far," he growled. "She should have been devoured by wild animals in the woods, not joined by that stupid lion. Sherlock should have failed to protect her, he should never have joined their little party. This nonsense has to end. I want those shoes!"

Moran stepped forward, bare furry feet slapping on the floor. The flying monkey rubbed at his rounded chin and stretched his shoulders, furred wings fluttering. As the head of Moriarty's security, another willing servant, and the chief of his armed forces, the monkey grinned showing a mouth full of fangs. He bounced on his feet, gesturing wildly towards the crystal ball. "Shall I organize a team and fetch them for you sire?" the winged monkey asked. His dark eyed gaze turned dangerous as he grinned at the image in the ball, fangs flashing. "I assure you that I will return with the shoes, with or without that human woman attached."

"When she's this close to that humbug of a Wizard?" Moriarty drawled. "No, we're going to have to be clever about this or else have to deal with OZ the 'great' and 'powerful!'" He cackled for a moment before flopping back into the throne, eyeing the crystal ball with a dark look on his face. "Oh, Sherlock. What are we going to do about you helping that poor little girl? We're going to have to find a way to slow them down so that we can gather them up at our leisure. A direct assault will only put that Wizard on the defensive and we'll never get her then."

Cam peered at the crystal ball, turning his head one way then the other. "I have a suggestion then Sire. The group is rapidly approaching the poppy field. Janine is still there."

"Janine?" Moriarty repeated, turning his attention to the crystal ball of course. A shark's grin lit up his face as he chuckled lowly. "Of course. Something sweet yet deadly to turn their path and lead Sherlock astray. It's perfect. Poppies, poppies…"

"So can you tell me more about Oz?"

The question cut through the birdsong and burst out of Molly's chest before she knew it. The tin man, Sherlock, looked at her and she flushed, looking away. She'd been thinking the question for quite some time, with the stationary sun it was difficult to tell exactly how long it had been, but she hadn't intended to ask it. Somehow it felt strange, perhaps a bit rude to question her new companions on their world. As if they would be called into question as well to explain away the oddness of it all.

And there was no question about it. Oz was weird. Absolutely bizarre.

If talking trees, animals, and men made of tin weren't strange enough they'd also been accosted by a white rabbit with a pocket watch and a pair of playing cards looking for red paint which was just plain wrong. That was Wonderland stuff.

Sherlock continued to look at her then glanced towards the scarecrow and lion, Greg and John, who were leading the way down the road of yellow bricks. "Do you want to know anything in particular or was that a plea for a more general source of knowledge?" he asked, voice as pleasant as she'd heard from him.

Molly looked over at him, biting her lip. He didn't seem annoyed by her question. Why wasn't he annoyed? Everything else so far had annoyed him.

A tin lip twisted and Molly flushed harder realizing she'd asked that question aloud as well. Eyes narrowed at her as Sherlock regarded her more closely. "The pursuit of knowledge is something I would never discourage. Considering that you're a recent arrival in our land I would assume that you have many questions. Ask."

"Alright," Molly said and took a breath. "Who's the Wizard? Can he really solve all our problems? How did you get cursed? Did getting all your parts cut off hurt? Did you really date the Wicked Witch of the East?"

Sherlock blinked at the sudden stream of questions and the tin man actually looked a bit taken aback. "So you do have many questions," he mused. Thinking for a moment he shrugged. "The Wizard is a humbug. He arrived in Oz many years ago shortly after the mysterious disappearance of the true ruler of Oz, the infant princess Ozma. As his balloon coincidentally had the initials O.Z. printed upon it the townspeople took stock of his 'mighty' powers and bade him take up the mantle of Wizard. Or so the official story goes."

She frowned but managed to keep walking. "The Wizard's a humbug? As in-"

"As in a deceiver or bringer of false truths, he's not actually a giant insect," Sherlock assured her. "He'd be even more terrifying beyond all reason if he was. As for whether or not he can aid you in your quest, I must admit that I don't know. The Wizard has a great many connections and he may be able to aid you, but he's certainly not magic."

Molly's shoulders sank as she looked towards John and Greg. "So he wouldn't be able to help Greg get his brains or John regain his courage."

Sherlock shrugged, metal shrieking a little as he did so. "Perhaps. Perhaps not. To answer your other questions I was cursed by Moriarty, yes getting my fleshy bits cuts off hurt a great deal and having them replaced with tin hurt a great deal more, and yes I did see Irene frequently in a rather intimate setting."

Her lips were suddenly dry and her eyes wet. That was strange. Not right at all. Why was she suddenly so upset? It wasn't as if she and the tin man were, well, anything. She didn't even like him! She liked… someone else? She couldn't rightly remember which was strange enough really. Blinking rapidly Molly looked away, wetting her lips tried to get control of herself again. "Oh," she whispered. "I'm very sorry I dropped my flat on her then."

Sherlock shook his head, frowning a little. "It's not your fault. Irene and I parted a very long time ago. She became someone I no longer recognized nor cared to know. Killing her, accident though it may have been, was surely the best end for her."

They walked in silence for a long moment, Molly racking her brain for something to say. While Sherlock didn't seem to blame her for Irene's death there had to be a way to assure him of how sorry she was. To make him see that she wasn't the sort who went dropping the top floor of buildings on people, tornado or no, and that she was so, so-

"We've made it!" John shouted from up ahead. The lion leaped and hollered, waving his front paws in the air as he whooped loudly. "The Emerald City!"

Molly and Sherlock glanced at each other and hurried forward, coming around the last bend and stepping into the sunlight. Blinking the light out of her eyes, Molly shaded her gaze and gasped loudly her eyes going wide. The Emerald City- it was… it was magnificent. The city shone and sparkled in the bright sunlight, reflecting every shade of emerald imaginable. The grand skyscrapers and magnificent ferris wheel looked somehow nearly familiar though. She frowned, staring at it as the city's grand clock tower began to chime in a familiar way. For a moment her vision swam and she felt faint as her mind raced, trying to determine why the city looked so familiar but there was no way she could have seen such a sight before. Where could she have ever seen such a town of green before?

There was a hand on her shoulder, shaking her lightly as it supported her and kept her from collapsing? "Molly?" she heard Sherlock's voice call but for some reason it sounded far farther away. "Molly?" She blinked and the voice corrected itself with Sherlock, Greg, and John peering at her with varying looks of concern upon their faces. "Are you quite alright?"

She nodded, stepping away from Sherlock and shaking herself back into awareness. "Y-yes. I'm fine. Sorry, I just felt a little faint for a moment. I must be more tired than I thought."

"It has been quite awhile since we stopped," Greg said, his painted face frowning as much was possible for him. "I'm sorry Molly, but I hadn't even noticed. Being made of straw I don't get tired like you do. Maybe we should take a break?"

"And I've found myself plenty hungry since I met you," John added, rubbing his belly. "It's far past tea time, nearly time for dinner even. If I'm hungry then a little thing like you must be starving. I could see about catching us a- catching us a- rab-r-r-r-r-r-r-" The lion started to go pale, form trembling as he thought of critters both small and furry.

Molly shook her head. "No, I'm fine. Besides, we're almost to the Emerald City. We can rest once we get there."

"Agreed," Sherlock said with a nod. "In the Emerald City we'll be beyond the power of Moriarty and his minions. We're not safe here."

"Then it's settled. We'll keep going," Molly said with a nod.

Frowning, Greg cast his eyes out over the twisting road of yellow brick that led far off to the right, skirting the forest, then at the field of bright red flowers that laid between them and the Emerald City. "Can we at least take that shortcut there?" he asked, gesturing towards the flower field. "It'll be ever so much faster than following the yellow brick road and the Emerald City is right there."

Eyes narrowing, Sherlock gazed at the field. "No, we can't. That's a field of poppies. It would be better if we-"

"Last one there is a rotten Munchkinberry!" John shouted. Falling to all fours the lion raced down the small hill they were standing upon, crashing into the field of red poppies and sending a spray of petals up in the air. With a shout of "No fair!" Greg was running after him as well, straw filled limbs shaking all akimbo as the stuffed man chased the maned beast.

Laughing, Molly hiked up her skirts and moved to chase them. She didn't even stop to consider the fact that she was in five inch sparkling high heels she'd become so used to them. "Wait! Stop!" she heard Sherlock shout but she ignored him, nearly tumbling down the hill before she looked up at him. "Come on Sherlock!" she shouted then plunged into the field of red blooms.

The poppies were much taller than they'd seemed to be from the hill. As she ran through them, eager to catch up with the lion and scarecrow they grew taller and taller until she was running under through a maze. The scent of greenery and the poppies hung heavily in the air as she ducked between the stems. It was a sweet and somewhat heady, but she liked it. Inhaling it deeply she laughed gaily, throwing up her hands and twirling, catching hold of one of the blooms and pulling it down. The blossom was as large as a dinner plate and as she laughed and buried her nose into it a burst of pink pollen sprayed up into her face. Molly blinked and staggered, the world around her suddenly spinning as the smell of poppy overloaded all of her senses. She tripped over her own feet, barely keeping her balance as she released the poppy, realizing all of the other flowers were gently misting pink pollen over her as well.

"Oh," she breathed, grabbing stems to keep her upright as she staggered forward. Her vision swam and quite suddenly she was feeling slow and sluggish. "I don't think we should have come this way. Toby? T-Toby?"

She turned, world spinning faster and faster to find the small bundle of white fur curled around a poppy stem, his head buried in his paws. Taking the shaking steps to his side, Molly picked up the feline and peered at him, smiling loopily. "Toby you shilly fitty," she slurred. "Isnat nappytime!"

"Help! Help!" a familiar voice shouted and suddenly a man made out of patchwork burst out from between the poppy stems. Catching sight of her he ran towards Molly and caught hold of her arm, pulling her along. "Molly, thank goodness! It's John. We were racing and then all of a sudden he stopped and just fell down saying that he needed a nap. I can't wake him!"

The world spun in a comforting pink haze and Molly giggled, feeling her eyelids getting heavier and heavier. "Nap? Shounds good," she sighed and tumbled forward, Toby still in her arms.

Greg yelped and moved to catch her but a being made of straw was no match for one of flesh and blood. If anything he was a soft surface for Molly to fall on as she knocked him to the ground, already snoring gently. Trying and failing to shove the girl off of him, the straw man looked around desperately. "Help!" he shouted. "Sherlock! Help!"

"Sherlock?" a female voice purred. A dark haired beauty wearing a lilac colored dress stepped out from behind a poppy stem, her eyes dark and inviting as she sashayed towards them. In her hands she held a clear bottle with a dropper on it that she lifted to her lips, dropping a bit of liquid upon them. She moaned, twirling and giggling. "That man owes me a cottage!" she laughed.

Greg put his arms around Molly, angling himself between the sleeping girl as more women and men stepped out from behind the poppy stems. Their smiles were large, eyes lidded as they laughed amongst themselves and danced, a few collapsing together in passionate embraces before separating again. The first dark haired beauty stepped closer, her eyes on Molly and Greg pulled her closer. "Would you please help me? My friends have fallen asleep and I can't wake them," the strawman asked.

"Help them? I've already helped them," the dark haired woman said, giggling again as she dropped another bit of liquid upon her ruby red lips. "I've already helped all of you. I've granted them oblivion. Sweet, sweet silence. No more messy thoughts or nasty questions running through their heads. With me, they'll know peace. I offer everyone peace. It's what I'm here for."

"T-That's very nice," Greg said as the woman spun closer to them, the bottle still in her hand. "But you see we're on our way to the Emerald City and-"

"Why bother?" the woman asked. "Why bother going to the Emerald City? Why bother doing anything at all? With me you can sleep and dream and-" The woman paused, her eyes going wide as she caught sight of something over Greg's shoulder. "Oh!"

Sherlock stepped out from behind a thicket of poppy stems, his tin face twisted like lightning and his stomping feet echoing like thunder. He stopped short as he saw them, eyes raking across them, lingering upon the collapsed Molly and Greg, before they went to the lilac clad woman. "Janine. You have to stop this."

"Sherly!" Janine gasped and then squealed, rushing him. The scarecrow yelped out a warning but the tin man did nothing to stop the woman from throwing her arms around him. "Owch! You're hard and pokey now."

"I have been transformed into tin," Sherlock pointed out, voice dry as Janine stepped back.

The woman inspected him closely, fingers running along a seam as she frowned. "You're all shiny. You weren't nearly as shiny yesterday when you left."

"Janine, it's been years," Sherlock said, removing her hands from her and gently pushing her away. "It's the poppies, they've been muddling your thoughts just as they did mine. You've lost years, Janine. Decades perhaps. Oblivion isn't worth it, you have to leave."

"Leave?" Janine repeated, her eyes doey and confused. She looked to the others who were milling about, laughing and drunkenly wandering off, their faces slack and peaceful. "Where would I go?" Her expression darkened. "Back to CAM? I told you that I'm never going there again. You can't make me!"

"I wasn't going to-"

Abruptly Janine laughed and cooing, raced after a butterfly that was struggling to flap along. Its wings were laden with pink pollen as it flapped mightily, surging this way and that and steadily sinking towards the ground. Giggling Janine raced after it, clapping as the butterfly sank, exhausted, to the ground its wings fluttering as it tried to rise to the air once more. Sherlock sighed, rubbing his brow as Janine knelt next to the insect, poking at it and trying to encourage it to take wing once more. Crossing over to Greg and Molly, Sherlock bent over them, lifting Molly enough so that the scarecrow could slide out from under her.

"She won't wake up! John's the same way," Greg said, looking down at the woman worriedly. "What do we do? How do we wake them?"

"We don't," Sherlock said flatly. "This is the poppy field, it's Janine's realm and by that extension, under the control of CAM. Only one person has ever escaped."

"Really?" Greg asked, painted eyes wide. "Who?"

"Me."

"Oh. How did you manage that?"

Sherlock smirked, striking his own chest and letting the ring of metal on metal echo through the poppy stems. "I had myself transformed into tin until the cravings went away," he said shortly. "Oblivion is a… It's a powerful draw and a dangerous game to play."

"Oh Sherly, you silly fool," Janine said with a giggle. As they turned to regard her she was pinning a pair of pink butterfly wings into her dark wavy hair, the insect a smear on the dirt. "Oblivion is a gift. One I share freely with all. You can have it again if you want. I'll gladly give it to you just like I gave it to all the others and then you'll be so free. You can be happy! So, so happy."

Sherlock stood frozen, his eyes wide. Slowly he shook his head. "No. Janine, let us go. We have to go. We have an appointment to see the Wizard."

"The Wizard? How boring. I'd rather you stay with me," Janine said, stomping a small white foot. "You will stay with me! We'll be happy, you'll see! I'll make you all stay with me forever, you'll see."

Greg cowered near the ground, clutching Molly as close as his straw arms would allow. Brow set and determined he scowled up at the beautiful woman. "Not if we can help it," he said and raised his voice. "HELP! HELP! PLEASE! SOMEBODY HELP US!"

Janine blinked as Sherlock sighed. "Stop it, Gavin. That won't help us," Sherlock snapped but the scarecrow kept screaming for help, body curled around Molly's as if that would help shield her from the pink pollen that continued to mist down.

"What is he doing?" Janine asked, brow furrowing. She folded her arms as a breeze flowed through the poppies, bringing a slight chill to the air. Pouting peevishly she tilted her head to one side. "Doesn't he want my gift?"

"He's made of straw. He's immune like me," Sherlock said. Something white flashed in the air and the tin man frowned, gaze traveling upward. "What on-"

White flakes swirled down glinting in the sunlight and falling faster than the pollen. Letting out a little gasp, already lightly coated in white, Janine gazed up, eyes wide. "What? Snow!?"

The flakes fell more rapidly, the ground and everything around them becoming coated as the Oblivion chasers milled about and muttered nervously. Janine's face twisted in distaste as the air began to clear, the poppies wilting as the cold sunk into them and cut off the pollen supply. She sneezed dramatically, shivering as she glares at the white flakes. "I hate snow! I feel…. It's making me feel…." She shivered again, eyes going wide before she caught ahold of herself. "Everyone, let's go! It's cold here and I don't want to stay."

Seeming to think that this was a good idea the followers melted away into the swaying poppy stems as Janine picked her way across the ground, trying to avoid as much snow as possible. She glanced back at them, snow tangled in her dark hair as she caught Sherlock's gaze. "You know where to find me when you don't want to feel anything," she said.

The tin man nodded, the movement stiff as the snow continued to fall upon him. "I know."

With a little nod Janine hurried away, vanishing like the others between the poppy stems and leaving them alone in the little clearing.

"This wasn't what I wanted," Greg said miserably as the snow began to drift around them. "We've saved Molly and John from that woman but snow? They'll surely freeze."

"Then get them out," Sherlock said, the words halting. He moved to lift his arm only for it to freeze half way and stick there. He struggled for a moment before looking to the scarecrow. "Now. Hurry. Use the poppy stems to make a litter and drag them out. Molly….. Molly first…. The lion….. fur….." He fell silent, mouth rusting shut. Greg let out a cry, racing over to him as the tin man's eyes darted about for a moment before rusting in place as well.

"No, no, no!" Greg protested, tumbling as he circled the metal man. "You can't rust, not now! I'm not smart enough to fix this! I don't know what to do! I haven't a brain!"

With a mighty yawn, John staggered into the clearing. "What happened?" he asked and yawned once more. "Is it time for breakfast?"

"Lion!" Greg cheered. He practically leapt across the field, throwing his arms around the hairy beast. "You woke up!"

Molly yawned and stirred, sitting up as she stretched. "Am I back in London now?" she asked sleepily, eyes blinking. Catching sight of the scarecrow and lion she sighed. "Damn. Guess not."

"MOLLY!" Greg shouted and tackled her to the ground from the force of his hug. "You woke up too! It must be the snow. It's getting rid of the pollen in the air! You're free of Oblivion!"

"Oblivion?" Molly repeated, rubbing her eyes. She struggled to her feet, not aided by the scarecrow who was still hanging off of her nor the still yawning lion. Her eyes traveled the clearing as she shivered at the snow before she caught sight of the tin man. "Sherlock! He's rusted in place again."

"It's the snow," Greg said, tumbling off her to the ground. "It stopped the pollen but it stopped the tin man too. What do we do?"

"Unrust him of course," Molly said. She patted down her pockets as the snow began to thin then ceased to fall. Finding the bottle of pepper spray she shoved that back down deep into her dress pockets before pulling out the oil can. "Here, help me get his arms."

The crystal ball shattered upon the stone flagstones as Moriarty let out a scream of rage. All around the castle the flying monkeys shrieked and took flight, the Winkies cowering at their posts, as the Wicked Warlock of the West cursed and raged. "Who was it!?" he screamed, rounding on his lieutenants. "Who would dare cross me? I had them right where I wanted them, incapacitated and ready for plucking. Who would be stupid enough to undo my hard work?"

"AGRA of course," CAM said, adjusting his spectacles once more.

"Y-yeah. That goodie-too-shoes of a witch," Moran piped in. "You know she's always meddling. It would be just like her to send that snow."

"That bitch of a witch," Moriarty growled and threw himself upon his throne. He glowered at the room, fingers tapping against his armrest as his Wicked brain racked itself with thought. "This nonsense has gone on for too long. The power of those shoes should be mine and no little girl, no witch, and certainly no metal failure of a man is going to stop me."

Moran brightened. "Ah, shall I summon the legions then, sire? I can have a company of monkeys in flight and ready to strike within the-"

"No," Moriarty growled and surged to his feet. Snapping his fingers a broom flashed into existence and he seized it as he strode towards the window. Cackling he mounted it, flashing a smirk over his shoulder. "No, this is going to require a personal touch."

This chapter is pretty much a straight copy of the film for the most part. I did try to bring in The Wiz a bit more (which I wish I could bring in more of) with the poppies being a more direct reference to drugs, but your mileage may vary on whether that was a success or not. Again, characters are being told from Molly's perspective and I imagine she would blame Janine more than a little bit for not noticing as Sherlock went back to his drug habit which is referenced here with Oblivion.