You lead, I follow

The area Jim had landed in had to be the most outlaying on this entire planet. He'd been following the yellow brick road for three days now, and there was still no trace of civilization to be seen. It had taken him two days alone to make it out of the forest he'd landed in. The covert grew thick along the road, and he often had to climb over tree trunks that had fallen over the path or huge roots that had broken through the pavement.

Again, Jim had to wonder whether Spock had made a mistake when he calculated the coordinates for their landing or the data had been jumbled when the ship had jolted. He sure couldn't have planned to strand them in this godforsaken area. Jim just hoped the Enterprise would find him anytime soon. He was sick and tired of stumbling across this nether land.

The darkness of the forest gave him the creeps. He couldn't see anything in the thicket, but he could hear the wild animals roaming it, following his scent. So he didn't dare leave the road. At least here, he would see in time when they attacked. He was also glad that a brook ran along not too far off the road, and wild berries grew in abundance along the wayside. He was very careful about eating them though, since he had no means of finding out if they were poisonous.

Not for the first time on a mission, he wished he'd brought a tricorder along. And why wasn't that standard protocol for away missions anyway? One could never know when it came in handy. But again, he'd left the scientific equipment to his science officer, believing they wouldn't be separated anyway. He should have known better…

Still, he should probably be glad that at least his phaser worked for a change - which came kind of as a surprise. These things almost never worked when you actually needed them. So when he'd faced a tiger-like creature on the first day, he was halfway convinced his phaser would fail him yet again as he drew it to shoot at the creature. Fortunately, the device fired the energy beam it was supposed to, evaporating the beast, and ever since none of the animals sneaking after him had dared come out again.

Finally, the trees cleared and Jim was out in the sunlight again. Vast fields of green spread in front of him. He stood out in the open, relishing the suns warming his face and took a deep breath. The air here seemed so much clearer than it had in the sweltry, suffocating darkness of the forest. Though he could still feel the ferocious eyes gleaming in the dark behind him. He had to get away from here. He kept stumbling along the uneven road. But now that the dangers of the forest lay behind him and the adrenaline had faded off, he could feel the fatigue claiming his body. He hadn't slept in two days, afraid he'd be attacked the moment he let his guard down.

The suns had moved quite a way across the sky, when Jim came upon a crystal clear lake sparkling in the afternoon suns. The place was quiet and peaceful – a real paradise. Jim could hardly believe this was still the same planet. The sweet delicious smell of ripe apples hit his nose and reminded him that he hadn't eaten properly in days either. He picked as many apples as he could carry.

Until suddenly, something grabbed his left arm. The tree branch wrapped around his wrist tightly. An ancient wrinkled face appeared in the bark. "You won't pick from us!" the tree growled. For a second Jim just stared at it disbelieving. Then he hurriedly drew his phaser and shot at the branch, severing it. The tree screamed in pain. But Jim was free and made a dash for it, clutching the apples to his body.

When he was halfway around the lake he collapsed at the shore, winded. Paradise – he should've known better! Experience had taught him that for some reason places that seemed like paradise always had a tendency to turn into a nightmare. And here he'd thought he'd had his share of nightmares already while stumbling through the forest… And now, there were trees attacking him… Could this trip get any worse? – Better not to think about it.

For the umpteenth time in the past days he flung out his communicator and tried hailing the Enterprise. Still nothing but static. He lay back and munched away at the apples thinking. He had to contact his ship but since the communicator was of no use, he had to find help. If only he'd find a city already. Maybe there he could find some answers to his problems. But before that he needed to rest. When his hunger was assuaged he stretched out in the warm sunslight and fell asleep.

He curled up and dreamt of the Enterprise, his ship, his home.

He materialized in the transporter room, and the first thing he saw was the look on Bones' face. One eyebrow arched, he scrutinized his disheveled appearance, his torn uniform.

"Do I even want to know?" he grumbled as he stepped forward to wield the medical tricorder at Jim. The tricorder apparently didn't show anything unusual, since Bones' posture relaxed marginally. "Could you just for once not get yourself into trouble? Think that's possible?" he sighed as he clapped Jim on the shoulder to express his relief to have his friend back aboard unharmed, without looking like a helicopter mom.

Jim saw right through him, though. "I'm trying, mom," he laughed as he stepped of the transporter platform.

Then the bulkheads opened, and Spock entered. His dark eyes were gleaming, and he had a wide smile on his face, incompared to any expression Jim had seen on the Vulcan so far. He hadn't even believed him capable of a smile like this. The sight made his heart flutter. "Jim!" he exclaimed, still grinning. Before Jim could realize what was happening, Spock had whirled him around and swept him into a hug. He could feel the disbelieving looks of Bones and Scotty on his back. But he chose to ignore them to lean in and claim his welcome-back kiss.

Spock noticed them, though, and momentarily he let go of Jim and straightened. "Captain. Welcome aboard," he said tonelessly, his stoic mask back in place.

Jim awoke again as the first sun rose on a new day. It took him a moment to realize it had just been a dream. It had seemed so real. He sat up and stretched. If he wanted this scene to become reality, he had to get moving. With new energy and determination he set off.

After walking for some time, he noticed fields around him, enclosed by little blue fences. So there were people on this planet after all. That lightened his mood and quickened his pace. In the distance, he could also see a small village. The houses were painted blue all over, from the roof to the walls and doors.

Around noon, he reached the village. The houses seemed awfully small – even the roof ridges barely reached up to his nose - and no one was to be seen in the streets or gardens. Which was odd, since he'd heard quite a turmoil in the streets when he'd approached the village. Now it felt like a ghost town. As he continued down the road, though, he noticed small faces staring at him from behind the windows.

Three men blocked his way. They reached up to his waist, were dressed in all blue like the rest of the town, and held pitchforks in their shaking hands. "Who are you, stranger, and what do you want from us?" the one in the middle inquired. "Great, at least the universal translator is functioning," he thought to himself in a bout of sarcasm.

But how could he possibly explain to them where he'd come from? These small people in their farm town probably had no idea about space travels. To be sure, he could've overpowered them easily. Still, he didn't want to make the first people he'd met on this planet his enemies. He did need their help after all. According to Spock's readings, there had to be a more advanced society and even if these country people couldn't help him, maybe they could at least show him, where he could get help.

"I mean you no harm," he said calmly, raising his hands in surrender and smiling in a hopefully reassuring way, while he pondered about explaining his situation to them, without scaring them off. His opponents relaxed minutely. But he realized it wasn't because they believed or trusted him when he heard hoofs behind him. From the sound of it and his opponent's reaction, the newcomers would most likely be the real threat.

Slowly, as to not start any of them, he turned around, hands still in the air. He was confronted with two men on horses. The horses had the same built as the ones he knew from earth, and the men riding them seemed to be about his size. They had drawn their hats deep into their faces and wore long brown coats with a silver star pinned to the chest. Obviously, they had to be some kind of authority. Great, maybe they could help him find a city where there was actually some kind of technological development and thus scientists who could help him to make contact with his ship. Now, all he had to do was convince them he was no danger, only a traveler gone astray. Which was easier said than done, though.

The riders didn't even give him a chance to talk. There was still a lot of vermin crawling the O.Z., especially the further away from Central you got. The Tin Man had strict orders to arrest any suspicious looking persons and question them at the station. And this Munchkin village was one of the most backwater places in all the O.Z. They already had their hands full fighting the rogue long coats constantly plundering the villages. They wouldn't take any chances with a stranger dressed in ridiculous clothing carrying some kind of weapon on his belt.

They had him at gunpoint – ancient projectile weapons. "Quiet!" one of them barked when Jim opened his mouth to great them. The other dismounted and proceeded to arrest him.

"Wait! I didn't even do anything…," Jim tried to defend himself as the police man took his phaser and communicator. But that only earned him a kick to the kneecap before the officer yanked his hands behind his back and fastened the cuffs.

"He said 'Quiet!'" the man growled in his ear. Everything in Jim screamed to fight them. But he knew better. He needed them. On his own he would never get out of this mess. So he swallowed his rage and complied. He would have to be patient and wait for his chance to talk to them reasonably.

Glitch had been out in the wild for three weeks now, though he himself had no idea how long he'd been out there. His mind was completely blank. Cain and his quest to rescue him had been forgotten since the first glitch he'd had on the day he'd escaped from what he'd believed to be the scientists' lab.

But by now, even his escape was nothing but a vague memory, and for the life of him he couldn't have said whether that had been three weeks or ten years ago. Without any reference point, he'd lost track of time entirely. Every morning was like a new beginning. Yesterday had no meaning to Glitch since he couldn't remember it anyway. And if he did actually remember an event he couldn't tell when it had taken place. His memories just blurred into each other.

Tags of memories surfaced in his dreams. He saw a brown haired girl with dark blue eyes, a viewer, and a hot blonde Tin Man on their trek through the O.Z., a queen asking his opinion, the Tin Man and him in what seemed to be their home, and sometimes he would even recognize the people living in his dreams and then he'd miss them dearly. When he awoke, though, these memories faded away, leaving behind a vague sense of loss he couldn't place. Without a trigger to call them forth, they were buried in the fuzzy darkness of his mind.

The only thing he always seemed to remember was that they were after him – the Long Coats. He had something they wanted, and they wouldn't rest until they had it. What that might be, though, he still didn't have the least clue. And he sure as hell didn't want to find out. So he avoided the towns and bigger roads, any places where people might see him. Mostly, he hid out in the woods and stole food from the fields when no one was around.

In the beginning, he'd been less careful, but then he'd recognized his face on the posters Jeb Cain, in charge of the official nationwide search for the advisor, had his men post everywhere. If Glitch had read them, he'd known that the palace was worried about him, that he'd disappeared in the middle of treatment to restore his brain, and that he required medical attention. Anyone seeing him should report to the nearest Tin Man unit and would be rewarded for his assistance.

All he had read, though, was the reward promised to the one restoring him to the authorities, and from that he drew his own conclusions. He couldn't afford anyone recognizing and betraying him. So he stayed away from the crowds and struggled to survive on his own, which wasn't as easy, since his fuzzy brain often forgot about major things like eating, drinking or sleeping. His clothes were dirty and ragged, the hems were frayed and his pants torn at the knees, the left sleeve was almost severed from his coat ever since he'd gotten caught in a bush.

Several times already, he'd watched the Long Coats in their sinister uniforms, hats concealing their faces, riding along the roads, searching the villages and woods for him. But so far, he'd always managed to hide in the thicket before they could detect him. He was quite proud of himself. For a headcase he was pretty skilled in avoiding them. "Stupid Long Coats!" he secretly laughed at them.

The area he was currently roaming seemed pretty much forsaken. So Glitch had decided he could dare walk along the curiously yellow paved road, instead of stumbling through the undergrowth. He was happily munching away on some berries and whistling a song – though he had no idea how he knew the melody – when he heard hoofs coming toward him. He looked up and saw them: two Long Coats on their horses escorting a prisoner. His heart skipped a beat. He dove into the bushes on the roadside before anyone could notice him. From his safe hideout, he watched the procession approach.

The Long Coats were yelling at their prisoner who was dragged behind them. The poor man looked exhausted. He stumbled and fell to his knees. Still, the officers didn't stop their horses. A yank on the rope around his wrists brought him back to his feet. He glared at them and growled something Glitch didn't understand. Glitch felt sorry for him.

And before he realized what he was doing, he'd picked up a stone and threw it at the horse closest to him. The horse whinnied as the stone hit it in the neck and reared up, throwing its rider off. Then it dashed off down the road. The second horse followed suit. It, too, throwing off its rider in the wild dash. The prisoner had been thrown to the ground as well. He lay several meters away from his guards.

For a moment Glitch wondered what he was doing. He had to hide from the Long Coats, if he wanted to survive, and attacking them sure wouldn't help in keeping a low profile. Now they would come after him. He had to get away as long as they were still out cold. But the sight of the man in the strange golden shirt and the ridiculously tight pants stirred something inside of him he couldn't name yet. He couldn't just leave him behind, could he? So he just stood there unsure what to do – fight or flight?

While he was still pondering, the prisoner scrambled to his feet. "Looks like he won't need my help after all," Glitch thought to himself, ready to make a run for the forest. But instead of running away while the guards still gathered themselves, the funnily dressed man shuffled toward them. Glitch sighed. It would've been too easy! And here he'd thought he was a stupid headcase… At least he knew how to protect himself – well, usually…

By now, the first man was up as well and had his gun pointed at the stranger once again. Glitch braced himself and ran toward them – not that he had any idea what he was going to do to stop them.

He jumped and landed a high kick on the guy's back, sending him to the ground. The second police man came running, yelling at them to freeze. His gun was pointed at Glitch. But before the man realized what was happening, Glitch had disarmed him with a roundhouse kick. He looked after his weapon, then blinked at Glitch stupefied. Glitch, though, already dove in for his next attack, sweeping his legs out from under him. A chop to his throat punched his lights out for good.

Glitch had no idea how he was doing this, hadn't even known he was capable of it, his body just moved on its own. He was a little impressed with himself. He did have a vague notion, though, he'd done this before.

Behind him, the first guard had gotten up again and was about to attack. Glitch realized the movement too late to react. He could only steel himself against the impact.

It never came though. The attacker just crumbled to the ground with a thud.

The prisoner had clobbered him over the head, sending him to the realm of dreams.

"Thanks," Glitch smiled at him, still trying to catch up with the events.

"That was… pretty impressive," the blonde said, his bound hands pointing at the unconscious.

"It's all about the rhythm," Glitch answered as he tampered with the bonds, though he himself had absolutely no idea what that was supposed to mean.

"Why'd you do that anyway?" the blonde asked soberly, rubbing his freed sore wrists.

"You looked like you could use some help," Glitch smiled up at the taller man and was met with the bluest eyes he'd ever seen – no, that wasn't quite true. Glitch could literally feel his synapses firing all at once. He stood there, frozen in his tracks, his eyes glazed over.

The man put a hand on his shoulder. "You alright? Did you hit your head?" he asked worriedly.

The spark returned to his eyes as memory hit. "Wyatt!" he exclaimed and threw his arms around the other's neck, placing a kiss on his lips. He took the scruffy face in his hands and mumbled between kisses, "I've been searching for you! I was so worried! I thought they had locked you up in a tin suit…"

After a moment of shock, the other tried to free himself from the embrace. "Wow, wait a minute! What's gotten into you?" He held him at arm's length and scrutinized him.

But Glitch wriggled back into the embrace. "Oh, Wyatt, everything's gonna be alright now…" He snuggled closer.

"Stop it!" The blonde pushed him away, making him stumble back until he landed on his behind heavily.

Glitch sat there, blinking at the man dazedly. He inclined his head. "Do I know you? Name's Glitch! On account of sometimes my synapses don't fire right…"

"Right…," the stranger quirked an eyebrow at him and held out a hand to help him up. "I'm Jim Kirk. And no, you don't know me. But you just saved my ass. And now, we'd better get out of here, before these clowns wake up again." He pointed his thumb at the still unconscious officers.

Glitch looked at them as Jim bent down to take his phaser and communicator from the passed out man. "Long Coats!" he gasped and then took Jim's hand, dragging him along as he hurried away from them.