Disclaimer: Ownership, by any other name, would still not be mine.
Author's Note: Sorry if this offends anyone but I see no need to make up characters when those from canon are much more suited to the task.
...
Officer Gulch had, in his fifteen years on the force, dealt with a lot of drunks. He understood that people under the influence often said or did things they wouldn't sober. It was a common occurrence for them to be properly ashamed or horrified over their drunken antics after they'd slept it off. He would not argue the fact that he, himself, had not been in the soberest condition, nor would he deny he'd been aware that Jeb Cain had had a considerable amount to drink. The cop knew, really he did, that young Jeb's childhood had been shattered by the actions of the Sorceress and her men, and that the core of the boy's developmental years had been spent amongst those hell bent on seeing her reign end. Truly, Gulch knew, realized, understood and accepted all this and more. Didn't change anything. Nobody, not even the Tin Man's son, got to talk like that about the princess.
The part of the policeman's brain that kept track of events leading up to these how-did-I-end-up-here situations pointed out that he really should have expected something like this to happen. The day had, after all, started with him being booted unceremoniously out of Central City Palace by an apologetically smiling Princess Azkadellia. Apparently there was some big political council in the works and he hadn't been allowed anywhere near one of those since the queen had handcuffed him to the furniture a couple weeks ago. It was a bit insulting really. Ok, he'd caused a little chaos – inadvertently – but from what he could tell the Consort had, like a true carnie, used the various distractions the cop had provided to arrange events in a manner that further benefitted both crown and kingdom. Did they really have to kick him out like an unruly child every time they wanted to have a grown up political talk?
Evidently they thought so, leaving Officer Gulch alone in a foreign city with nothing to do. In the end he'd decided to explore. The cop had been to Central City on more than one occasion but, due to his duties as bodyguard, had never really had the chance to check the place out. Unless you counted a whirlwind chase after drunken, enraged princesses as a kind of tour – he knew where the bars were at least. Not that he'd planned on ending up in the bar. Really.
The thing was, ever since the war with the Longcoats had been declared officially over a few days previously, there had been a lot of partying going on. Members of the former resistance, now royal army, were not required to pay for their drinks and, somehow, the policeman found himself being included amongst these privileged ranks. It could be because he was known to be somewhat friends with Tin Man Wyatt Cain and Princess DG, Heroes of the Eclipse. Or perhaps it was because he had been in a battle with the Longcoats – he'd held the basket while the princesses shrunk people. There was also the distinct possibility that the owner of the tavern was merely taking pity on the man he recognized as being the one who'd once spent half a night chained to his barstool. Personally, Officer Gulch figured it was simply that free alcohol just seemed to find him.
So all in all, after a day spent wandering the city, Gulch was having himself a pretty good evening. Not only was the beer free but a fair number of off-duty royal guards from the various protection details had shown up to join him. They might laugh at Old Gulchy, as every member in the guard now called him, but that did not mean they didn't like him. It had, in fact, been turning into quite a party.
Unfortunately, Jeb and a number of his resistance comrades had chosen to celebrate the war's end at the same tavern. Even worse, they took a table not too far distant from that of the cop turned bodyguard. It was inevitable really, given the circumstances and the company, that some unhappy references to the Sorceress and Princess Azkadellia be made. Gulch had, in fact, been hearing them all day, but as long as people kept it in the past tense he paid them no heed. From what he knew, the princess-possessing witch had been just as bad as they said. Jeb, however, wasn't speaking in terms of the past. Working on what the policeman judged to be the young man's second or third keg of the night, Jeb's voice had been getting steadily louder. At first his conversation merely astonished Gulch – along with the royal guard and, likely, the entire tavern – then he'd moved onto a diatribe about the eldest princess' mind, morals and presumed activities that left the her chief bodyguard seeing through a haze of various shades of red.
Next thing Gulch knew, he'd crossed the intervening space and sent the Tin Man's son crashing into his table with a solid blow to the jaw. The entire bar went dead quiet.
"Yur gonna take tha' back," the cop gritted out angrily, "All o' it."
Rising hastily, if a trifle unsteadily to his feet, Jeb growled back, "You gonna make me?"
"Yes."
A small part of Gulch's brain that was still capable of logical thought pointed out that it was a bit ridiculous of him to be starting a fight with a boy almost half his age. Another part chipped in that this particular boy would have the experience to make up the age difference. The cop may have received unarmed combat training but Jeb had been raised fighting for his life in the crucible of war, by all rights he should be able to hand the cop his ass back. As a finally addendum, the first part mentioned that the Tin Man was likely to take umbrage to this whole mess. Officer Gulch didn't really care; he launched himself at the boy.
Now it was not to be supposed that the resistance fighters were about to let some Othersider witch-princess guarding clown beat the crap out of their commander without having something to say about it. Given that Gulch was - despite logic's opinion on the matter - winning, a fair few of them thought it was time to intervene, one of them knocking the cop away with a sucker punch in the back.
And that, thought the royal guard members present, was just not on. Old Gulchy may be a bit of an in-house joke but he was their in-house joke, dammit. Before Mr. Sucker Punch could get another shot in he found himself getting a taste of his own medicine. This, naturally, caused the rest of the resistance fighters to join the fray. It was instant bedlam.
The bar became a chaotic confusion of struggling bodies and crashing objects, yet through it all Officer Gulch never lost sight of Jeb Cain. He pursued the boy with a single-minded persistence that would be the envy of any cop. As far as Gulch was concerned, Jeb had some words to eat and he would do so if the policeman had to force-feed them each individually. By the time the tin men came to break up the brawl the cop was working his way through Jeb's second sentence.
It was somewhat strange for Officer Gulch to be on this side of a bar fight; usually he was the one breaking them up. He informed the tin man holding him of this once he had finally been hauled far enough away from Jeb to calm down some. In his inebriated state he was even kind enough to give the man some pointers on his technique. The tin man in question thanked him by throwing Gulch down in exactly the manner described and carting him off to jail. The cop commended him on his progress.
An hour later, by no means sober but a little more rational, Officer Gulch was able to appreciate the irony DG was no doubt enjoying from the other side of the bars.
"Cain here?" he asked, not entirely sure he wanted to know.
"He's talking to Jeb," DG grinned, "in his jail cell."
Gulch winced, "And Az-Princess Azkadellia?"
Her grin widened, "Talking the tin men and tavern keeper into dropping the charges."
"How?" he asked surprised.
"Mostly she's glaring at them."
Gulch frowned.
"Don't worry Mr. Honest Cop, the damages will be paid for – probably out of your and Jeb's salaries. So, are you going to tell me what the fight was about?"
The policeman's jaw clamped shut and he glared as anger flared once more.
"I'll take that as a no."
"He's not talking either?" Cain asked, joining them.
"Not as yet. Jeb?" DG replied.
"Uncooperative," the Tin Man confirmed, "Gulch?"
The cop maintained his silence.
"Look Gulch, you've never given any indication you were a brawler which leads me to believe, since I understand you threw the first punch, that you were somehow provoked."
The lawmen traded steely glances. Officer Gulch wasn't budging. He was not repeating what Jeb Cain had said of the eldest princess. In his anger he was tempted to repeat what had been said of the younger princess, however. The boy may be the Tin Man's son but the cop would bet anything that that would not save him from Cain's wrath. Sadly, he had slightly too much honour to stoop so low.
"Words were said," Gulch replied at last.
"And?" prodded the Tin Man.
"And I won't repeat them," the cop stated.
Cain sighed. He had a shrewd idea, given the combatants, what the subject matter had been at least. That not a single person involved was willing to repeat his son's words spoke volumes.
"Let's just get them out of here," said DG, "we can work this out in the morning."
The meeting in the hall was tense. It was probably just as well the Tin Man had insisted the brawlers keep their clunky hand restraints as they no sooner set eyes on each other than they attempted to go for round two. Cain, holding them apart by a hand on each neck, was tempted to just crack their heads together and be done with it. Fortunately, they were interrupted.
"What did you do to his face?" shrieked Azkadellia.
"His face," Jeb was heard to mutter for, indeed, while Gulch was sporting a split lip and what promised to be a spectacular black eye, it was a wonder Jeb could see at all. He had some great concerns for his teeth, too.
"Never mind that now," Cain said in exasperation, pulling Jeb protectively behind him while pushing Gulch into Azkadellia's path as a distraction, "Can we please just get them back to the palace?"
"What was this about anyhow?" the eldest princess asked, trying to examine her bodyguard's wounds.
Gulch's nostrils flared with anger, his head snapping around to glare at his opponent once more. Jeb's chin rose stubbornly and he shifted his stance aggressively.
"That's it!" the Tin Man said, having had enough, "New plan." Stepping forward he wrenched the locks off the restraints.
Gulch heaved a sigh of relief as the wood fell away; he'd been beginning to miss regular handcuffs.
Click.
Wait a minute! He didn't mean...
"You two," Cain said, "are staying here until you work whatever this is out. I don't care how. Beat the crap out each other if you want, just get it done. I'll be taking the princesses back now."
"But..."Azkadellia started to protest.
"Leave it, Az," advised DG. She'd made a few educated guesses of her own and thought it best to get her sister out of there. They followed Cain out into the night.
Officer Gulch looked down at his wrist dejectedly. He couldn't believe that Wyatt annoy-at-your-own-risk Cain had just chained him to Jeb, nemesis-in-consideration.
"This," said Jeb, "is your fault."
"You know," Gulch remarked, "you really are a substandard Cain. I suppose it's not your fault, you had to make do with inferior role models."
"Only because a certain princess made sure my father was unavailable for the task," the boy hissed.
"A certain princess was possessed at the time and not in control of her actions," the cop fired back.
"And that fixes things how?"
"You really ought to watch what you say about princesses," Gulch growled menacingly, "either of them."
Jeb paled and stuttered, "You wouldn't."
"Maybe I would," the cop threatened, though really he wouldn't. Did he want to be nearby when the Tin Man went ballistic at the news? Certainly not.
Lifting his chin defiantly, Jeb declared, "Go ahead, tell him, bring it on."
It was about this moment that the logically functioning part of Gulch's brain realized that maybe, just maybe, the two combatants were still in the belligerent state of drunkenness. Cain wouldn't let them go until they decided to make nice. That wasn't happening unless someone backed down. It was going to a very long night.
Jeb muttered something under his breath. Not quietly enough.
Officer Gulch reflected that a full out brawl while one was chained to their opponent would be exceedingly awkward. Didn't particularly care, though.