Disclaimer: I own not Tin Man or the 'I'm too Sexy' song which I mangled for my own purposes – please do keep the tune in mind or you might end up as confused as Quality Control was until I sung the line in question at her (terrible of me to do, I know) – blame the insanimometer.
Author's Note: I meant to mention this last chapter – good thing I forgot because those ANs were getting out of hand – but there may be the occasional jump over to 'A Dastardly Plot' as we carry on, much like there was before, only this time I'll let you know when I'm doing it. Fonteroy is causing me so much trouble with this story integration thing, I spent a lot of time trying to figure out where to put certain chapters. As it currently stands, all chapters containing Gulch will remain in 'Otherside Encounter' while anytime Fonteroy decides to wonder off without his drinking buddy, the chapters will be shunted to 'A Dastardly Plot'...at least that's the plan. Sigh. Why do I even bother? Slave to the muse, table for one.
...
Officer Gulch had always known life wasn't fair, it was one of the first lessons you learned as a kid about the harsh realities of the world; life: not fair. Being well aware of this fact, the cop thought it particularly unjust that life seemed to insist on reiterating the message with greater and greater emphasis as if Gulch were a exceedingly slow child that wasn't capable of grasping basic concepts...
"I really must insist on accompanying you," Guard Commander Dawkins argued as his superior brushed past him.
"No," the Commander of the Guard replied firmly.
"It is my duty as the head of the eldest princess' protection detail," he tried again.
"No."
"But, sir, the possible dangers..."
"No," Gulch cut him off ruthlessly, "You are staying here and that's an order."
...If life was fair someone would have added a course of 'All Those Things That Are Common Knowledge in the O.Z. But May Not Exist in the Otherside' to everything else they were trying to cram into his head, because that would be really useful about now. Actually it would have been extremely useful several hours ago. After all, if life was fair, someone would have informed him that there were people outside the royal family in possession of a gift for magic or light or whatever they chose to call it. They would have told him that these people would be willing, for a few platinums, to hand a T.O.R.N.A.D.O, or Trans Ordinate Rotational Nimbus Automatic Displacement Operant, over to any idiot with a dastardly notion. If life was fair, he would have had this information before accidentally giving a certain brainless lord a reason why he might want to give the Otherside a little visit...
"I'd hate to pull rank, sir, but..."
"You can't pull rank Dawkins," the cop fired back in exasperation, "I outrank you, by a lot. Look, Dawkins," he added as the guard opened his mouth for another attempt at persuasion, "I have to make sure Cain doesn't shoot anyone, ensure Azkadellia doesn't shrink anyone, stop DG from being DG, and, when we find him, prevent Fonteroy from doing any thinking whatsoever, I don't have time to babysit you, too."
"I can help with Fonteroy," the guard said eagerly.
"No! Stay!" Gulch ordered, slamming the door of his cruiser and slumping over the wheel.
...life just wasn't fair.
"He is never going to forgive you," DG opined from the back seat.
"Sure he will, next time I fall out of a tree I'll be back to being his favourite person ever," the cop muttered, sitting up.
"You are not to go falling out of trees!" Azkadellia commanded severely.
"Would love to comply, dear, but as Raw gives me exercises for hanging upside down every time I end up in rehab I have a feeling it's not really something I can prevent."
"You know," the Tin Man said mildly, before Az could truly get worked up, "Dawkins does have a point about half the royal family running off to the Otherside without a guard between them."
"If you want me to hire you a bodyguard Cain," the Commander of the Guard stated lightly, "you need only say the word."
The Tin Man snorted.
"That's what I thought," Gulch grumbled dryly, "I'd love to leave the majority of the royal family behind..."
"And miss seeing Fonteroy on the Otherside?" exclaimed DG, "Not a chance."
"...but since you'd all follow anyway, might as well keep everyone where I can see them. Can we go and get DG's dastardly BFF now?"
The travel storm dropped the cruiser gently down upon the highway only a few miles out of town, which resulted in the necessity for rather frantic defensive driving as the accident blocking a majority of both lanes practically leapt into view. Screeching to a halt on the wrong side of the road, Gulch peered out the window to see a rather incensed old harridan, also known as Ms. Beckley, bearing down on them.
"I should hide," DG said hastily, "I'm supposed to be dead."
"No you bl...asted well aren't," the policeman growled, slewing round in his seat to look at her, "that shi...nanigan ends right now, it isn't right and it isn't fair, to anyone."
"Oh? And how are we explaining why I suddenly disappeared and am not coming back?" the youngest princess demanded archly.
"Hmmm, let me think, you moved away?" Gulch fired back sarcastically, "No one thought you were going to stick around long, DG. You got pulled into the Witness Protection Program and you are very sorry for all the pain you may have caused but you are now free to let everyone know you are okay, end of story. And if you even think of objecting Tin Man, I am punching you clear in the face," he added before thundering his way out to the cruiser, leaving three very stunned people staring after him.
"I think you hit a sore spot," he heard Azkadellia accuse her sister just before the door snapped closed.
It took almost half an hour for him to get clear of Ms. Beckley. True to form, the old battleaxe didn't care that the cop hadn't worked this highway since he'd also mysteriously disappeared almost a year ago, only reappearing briefly with a new wife in tow to let everyone know he was okay before vanishing once more. She didn't even blink at the supposedly dead DG sitting alive and well in his back seat. No, all she cared about was that some idiot had been flouncing about in the middle of the road, causing that never-do-well Carter to crash his old beater into her pristine Chevy classic. It seemed that in the absence of a yellow brick road, Fonteroy had decided to follow the yellow dashed line instead. This would have gotten the old terror of the high school mad enough if the lordly lord hadn't also decided that, as a noble, plebeian transportation problems were not his concern, merely checking to see that everyone was alive before referring them to Lord Linster and carrying on his merry way. It said something of Lord Fonteroy's shield of stupidity that he'd been willing to cross a woman that had been keeping teenagers in line for decades, Officer Gulch had always considered skipping her dance classes to be one of the bravest things he'd ever done.
In the end he'd had to radio in to the station to get someone to come deal with the mess, only to have Nancy the dispatcher patch him through to the chief, resulting in another fifteen minutes delay as the old man tore him a new one before ordering him off to check out a report of a stolen horse. Since that sounded like something Fonteroy would do, he complied. Groaning, the cop slid back into the cruiser and set course for Farmer Spencer's home quarter.
"Elmer Gulch!" Spencer was out the door bellowing almost before they'd finished arriving, "I want to know where you picked up the habit of lending out other people's belongings without so much as a by-your-leave or even a heads-up that you are back in town! I know your father taught you better!"
"What?" inquired the baffled Gulch, suddenly reduced to the status of unruly teenager.
"I heard a noise in my barn," the red faced old farmer howled, "and what do I find but some puffed up prissy boy mounting my Nellie and claiming that he's only borrowing the horse, that Officer Gulch could vouch for him. Now I wouldn't mind lending the old girl out to your friends but I would think you'd have the decency to ask me first. I don't know this Lord Barty Fluffinagging or whatever he chooses to call himself, how am I supposed to know he's trustworthy?" Spencer demanded.
Dropping his head in his hands, the cop wondered just what it was about him that made life think that he should have to deal with this crap.
"Your name's Elmer?" Cain inquired from the back seat.
"Shut it, Wyatt," Gulch growled.
"We are not calling him Elmer!" Azkadellia broke in, "Officer is a good name, and that's the one he's keeping."
Sighing as he closed the cruiser door on the argument, the policeman turned back to the incensed farmer and explained, "Look, Spencer, Fonteroy is a bit...special. He's not from around here and he doesn't really understand the rules."
"How 'special' do you have to be to not understand that you just can't go and steal a man's horse? And why is that only my horse get's stolen around here?"
Because you live closest to the old Gale place, Gulch thought, but did not say. "How special?" he considered, "Let's just say that Fonteroy makes Bobby Gibbons look like a regular Einstein."
"Oh Good Lord!" the old farmer swore, "He went in the direction of town; go get him before he hurts himself."
"Or anyone else," the cop muttered, "Thanks Spencer, I'll try and get your horse back to you."
"No proble...is that DG in the back of your cruiser?" he asked sharply.
"Yup."
"Thought she was dead."
"Cat."
"Figures as much," Spencer uttered with a pragmatic shake of his head, "keep her away from my livestock."
"Will do."
Driving into town Officer Gulch was overcome with the strangest sense of déjà vu. Lord Fonteroy had apparently decided that Mrs. Middlebury's flowerbed was a good place to tie up Spencer's horse, further in the O.Z. native had obviously been greatly confused by the town's one stop sign, solving this dilemma by knocking it down, allowing him to proceed on to be distracted by the local liquor store. Paying the young idiot's tab, the policeman shepherded his charges onward only to discover that they were too late to catch up with him at the hardware store. Compensating yet another irate store owner who had been less than satisfied with Fonteroy's voucher of payment or the strange coins he offered in exchange for his entire stock of duct tape, the cop was remembering just what this trip was reminding him of when DG remarked, with far too great of interest, "Is that Roxanne?"
"Eh?"
"It is Roxie, there's this one thing I've always wanted to try..."
"No!" Gulch said hastily.
"Bet I could turn her hair blue from here."
"No!"
"Do you realize you've been saying no a lot today?" DG asked as the flustered cop shoved her and the Tin Man out the door.
"DG..."
"Who's Roxanne?" Azkadellia inquired.
Gulch closed his eyes in a pained grimace. "No one," he replied hopelessly.
"How can you not know who Roxanne is...oh right, you fell asleep for that story," his nemesis added, oh so helpfully, "She's-"
"Not important," the cop cut her off desperately, "we have things to do, idiots to find, small towns to save from annihilation..."
His wife's eyes narrowed suspiciously.
"Tell you later," he tried again, "maybe," he added as Azkadellia quirked a brow, "probably never if I can help it," he muttered as the crackling of the cruiser radio drew their attention.
"Calling all units, calling all units," Officer Bentley's voice rang through the cab, "We have a possible jumper on the old water tower. Repeat, possible jumper on the water tower. Requesting back-up, the man seems a touch delusional..."
"I'm not delusional, I'm a lord!" an emphatic voice objected in the background.
"I'm going to try and talk him down, or at least into staying put. Medical support would be appreciated..."
"What is he doing on the water tower?" Gulch asked of no one in particular.
"Maybe he likes a view?" DG piped up, oh so innocently.
Her brother-in-law glared at her in the rear view mirror.
Lord Fonteroy, they discovered when upon arrival, had opted to go for the highest point he could find, leaving him clinging stubbornly to the very top of the water tank. Officer Bentley, meanwhile, had situated himself at the bottom of the tank ladder so that he could try and reason with the young nincompoop. From where he stood on the ground, Officer Gulch didn't think that James had been making that much progress in his negotiations.
Gulch sighed, "Cain, do you mind?"
Click.
"Hey!" DG shrieked indignantly, tugging at the cuffs now locking her to one of the bottom rungs of the tower ladder.
"Sorry DG," the unrepentant cop murmured on his way past, "but I don't feel like falling off the water tower today."
"Wyatt," the youngest princess growled ominously.
The Tin Man twitched but remained steadfast. "Sorry, darling," he drawled in a much more apologetic tone, "but I don't want you falling off the tower either."
"I think someone is sleeping on the couch tonight," Gulch opined as he began climbing up the ladder.
"I'm not kicking him out of bed," DG countered instantly.
Groaning, the cop muttered, "I so didn't need to hear that."
"Sir," James Bentley's voice carried down to them as they made the climb, "could you please come down? Whatever trouble you may be in I'm sure it can be worked out, just come down nice and slow..."
"No," Lord Fonteroy insisted stubbornly, "I'm staying up here, I want to go home."
"And we'll take you home," Bentley tried again, "just come down and we'll call someone to take you home."
"Can't take me home," the young lord refuted, "forgot to pay for a round trip so I'm stuck until someone comes and gets me, which is why I'm up here."
"And how the hell does that help you get home?" James huffed in exasperation as Gulch pulled himself onto the platform encircling the water tank.
"'Cause being up high makes the Lurk n' Tracker show up," stated the master of logic, "and where there is a Lurk n' Tracker there is a princess, which means a ride home."
"I'm sure your friends would be better able to find you at the station," Bentley attempted once more.
"No, he wouldn't, only tin men and Officers at the station, lords are found up high. Princesses, too."
Gulch sometimes thought it was scary how often Fonteroy's illogic actually worked, Bentley, meanwhile, was thumping his head repeatedly against the metal side of the tank in sheer frustration.
"Fonteroy," Cain rumbled in amusement and command, as he, too, climbed onto the platform, "get down here."
"Eyebrows of Doom!" the lord crowed in triumph, "Told you so," he said pointedly to the flabbergasted cop as he scrambled down the rungs, "You're in the way," Fonteroy informed Officer Bentley as the policeman stood there dumbly, staring at the new arrivals. "Officer Gulch!" the young idiot carried on blithely, nudging James out of the way with his foot and shimmying the rest of the way down the ladder, "Have you ever tried Jack Daniel's sort? Nice of him to share with everyone, beats even Otherside whiskey."
Oh god, thought Gulch, Fonteroy's been drinking.
"Elmer what..?" Bentley managed to choke out at last.
"Did I miss anything?" inquired DG, pulling herself up to join them.
"DG, how..?" Officer Gulch started only to cut off as she waved the keys at him. He should have known she'd have those.
"DG?" James cried in shock and joy.
"Wait, James don't...Cain!" the beleaguered Gulch cried desperately.
Snick.
Too late. James Bentley froze mid-step, his arms stretched in preparation to hug position, as Wyatt I'm-too-paranoid-for-my-sanity-too-paranoid-for-my-sanity-gun's-going-to-shoot-you Cain, in one swift motion, hauled DG behind him and gave the strange cop Mr. Revolver's famous greeting. That he'd knocked his brother-in-law over the railing in the process didn't seem to faze him at all.
"Great, just f-udging great," Officer Gulch grumbled in resignation from his favourite hangout – random out-jutting scrap of metal that liked to catch falling officers, "Azkadellia, dear, a little help here."
"In a moment," the eldest princess replied as she, too, hauled herself onto the platform, "so help me, Cain, if he has one scratch on him," she threatened as she waved a hand to give her husband that all too familiar shrinking feeling, causing Bentley's eyes to widen even farther as mini Gulch flew through the air to land on the platform and spring back to full size.
"Put the gun away, Tin Man," Gulch all but ordered, laying a hand carefully on the muzzle, "James isn't going to hurt DG, he's just ecstatic to see she really is alive. Something tells me he didn't believe it when I said as much last time I was here."
"You didn't try to hug her when you found out she wasn't dead," Cain growled still watching the cop warily.
"Someone was holding a gun to my head at the time, what a coincidence," he remarked acidly, "DG, do something about your husband."
"Husband?" Bentley squeaked, causing the Tin Man's eyes to narrow dangerously.
"Wyatt, stop it," DG commanded, "he's an old friend and doesn't mean any harm."
After another moment's hesitation, Cain reluctantly let the gun fall, maintaining his position between his wife and the armed stranger.
"What's going on?" James asked faintly.
"Drink?" asked Fonteroy, offering him a bottle of Jack Daniel's.
"No, not drink," Gulch corrected, "Let's just get ourselves down-"
"Elmer Gulch + Marisa Middlebury," Azkadellia read from just around the bend of the water tank, "and it's written inside a heart, what does this mean?"
Oh come on! Gulch protested, life wasn't just unfair, it was a right bi-
"Just childhood silliness, Az," DG said, coming to his, and probably Marisa's, rescue – wherever the heck she might be, "it doesn't mean anything. Just something kids do sometimes, painting names and initials on the water tower. That black smudge over there is where I wrote D.P. + DG Forever before coming to my senses."'
"Um hmm," the eldest princess hummed sceptically, her hand beginning to glow.
"Who's D.P.?" demanded Cain.
"She was ten at the time," Gulch huffed in exasperation, "no need to get worked up, can we please get back down to the ground now before someone else decides to toss me off the water tower?"
"You know," James Bentley muttered as he stared at the Tin Man, "he looks familiar..."
"Never mind that now," Officer Gulch ordered, "everyone down the ladder, right now!"
"Oh good," cheered Fonteroy, "I don't like heights."
Staring after the idiot lord as he swung himself down the ladder, both cops could only shake their heads in disbelief. Ten minutes later, they were all safely on the ground and Gulch was feeling optimistic that he could bring this nightmare to an end...
"I've got it!" James declared, smacking a fist into his palm, "You look just like that composite sketch we have of the man suspected of shooting up a swimsuit shop about half a year back or so."
Everyone, except Fonteroy, froze in their tracks.
"Swimsuit shop?" Gulch asked in a quiet, quiet voice.
"Yeah, he freaked out at some poor boy for whistling at a girl, shot a security guard in the leg and led the police on quite a chase before losing them."
"Cain," Officer Gulch ground out.
"I like police chases," commented Azkadellia, "they're fun."
"Az!" DG and Gulch exclaimed as one. "Wait," DG added, "Why are you yelling at Az? Did you...you did! You got in a police chase with Azkadellia didn't you! Ha! Mr. Honest Cop hasn't got a leg to stand on!"
"I didn't shoot anyone," Mr. Honest Cop fired back, "DG..."
"Wait," Officer Bentley asked the Tin Man, as the youngest princess took off at a sprint, the incensed cop right behind her, "Does this mean you are the suspect?"
"Extenuating circumstances," Cain recited from rote, "it's classified."
"I still need to take you to the station for questioning..."
Snick.
"...or not," Bentley said weakly, staring at Mr. Revolver uneasily.
"Don't argue with Lurking Death," Fonteroy advised him with a pat on the arm, "Drink?"