Cain brooded from his position at the edge of the gardens, arching a brow at the occasional outbursts of laughter that were erupting from the Princess and the out-and-out horde of females surrounding her. Perhaps she had only been humoring him when she'd said she wasn't gay…Wyatt bristled at the idea. If that was the case then there was a serious epidemic of lesbianism going on in the palace. He'd be damned if she hadn't attracted every woman from the staff in the past week like some sort of little motor-mouthed magnet. His suspicious blue eyes and worry-lined forehead were hiding beneath the brim of his hat; the scowl set on his face, however, was not so easily concealed.

"Would you look at that sourpuss!" came the unwelcomed chipper tone of the zipper-head as he approached. Wyatt considered turning on his heel and sprinting to another location, preferably one at the far side of the garden, in hopes of an escape…but he already knew there would be no use.

"Head-case," Wyatt began in a dry greeting, "what brings you out here to ruin what was a pleasant morning?" he asked with his lips pursed together tightly, never once taking his eyes from the gossiping gaggle of girls.

Glitch, as always, chose to ignore Cain's sarcasm. "Good morning to you, too, Tin Man. I had to get out of that palace for some air – have you been in there recently? My word, I'd forgotten how crazed the staff gets about setting up these sorts of things. They say I've got a few screws loose? There is a woman in there in tears – actual tears – just because the color of the napkins is 'a half a shade lighter' than the table cloths."

A disinterested 'humph' was all Wyatt could contribute. His eyes were still narrowed in on DG. Something was…different…about his Tom-boyish, tree-climbing, dirty-kneed Princess lately. She seemed to have mysteriously transformed into a refined young (insert gulp of dread here) LADY. Another of those throaty, feminine laughs escaped her, echoing across the lawn to his ears and sending his brows skyward in surprise.

Glitch studied Wyatt's expression in confusion for a few seconds trying to figure out what had him so distracted. Finally he followed the line of those blue eyes' gaze and found DG, and instantly forgot why he had looked at her in the first place. "Oh doesn't she look lovely today!" Glitch exclaimed happily as a grin spread across his face.

And yes, she most certainly did. Cain gave a reluctant grunt of agreement, for today, as with every day in the past week, DG looked absolutely…beautiful. Not cute. Not adorable. Not any descriptive term he could dig up from the vaults of his seldom-tapped vocabulary that could be placed under the safe heading of 'childish'. It was unsettling. Just when he'd thought the image of her in soaking wet shorts and a tank-top had left him she had switched gears. He'd nearly shot himself in the toe the first morning she opened her bedroom door wearing a dress that she wasn't swimming in for a suitor, and it hadn't been a fluke, either. All week long she'd sported soft, feminine dresses that he refused to admit he'd found excuses to touch, even offering her a hand as she took a seat on several occasions for just a second of contact with the fabric. We're talking thin, velveteen material hugging every curve she possessed like some dangerous road leading him straight to eternal damnation.

He'd tried to mask his suspicion when informed (by a reluctant guard) that these dresses were brought by none other than the mouthy, Jeb-corrupting blonde. Said blonde had done a marvelous job of avoiding him over the course of the past week, but she couldn't hide forever. Try as she might to evade him there would most definitely be a little talk between them the first time he caught her away from the flock.

He thought he'd catch a break on the weekend; that once DG ditched these confusing new trends in attire for her simple jeans and shirts he'd be off the hook – but then he'd been horrified to discover her already thick lashes were coated in mascara and surrounded by expertly applied black liner. Seemingly innocent enough, right?

WRONG. These simple changes made the gems this girl passed off as eyes ten times more jarring. It made her first shooting lesson difficult to endure - the sapphire gaze was so striking he couldn't tell if he wanted to avoid eye contact or seek it out. Unfortunately for him she had a habit of staring him straight in the eyes as he spoke, curiosity burning brightly in the crystal waters and somehow sapping his ability to concentrate. He didn't know if it was his imagination or the fact that he'd been spending so much time with her but her face seemed to be maturing. He'd be damned if by some cruel twist of fate she wasn't actually starting to look older.

And then there was the perfume.

Oh yes. Perfume of some demonic concoction sent to prey on his senses – subtle and intoxicating, so cruelly alluring that he caught himself inhaling deeply when instructing her on the proper way to steady the gun before firing. He'd tried to explain how to best brace her small wrists for the kickback while keeping his distance from the scent – but words hadn't conveyed it properly. There'd been no choice but to stand behind her, arms over hers as he guided her to lock the shoulder of her firing arm in place and keep her supporting hand at the base of the gun – never atop it. All the while he'd been trying to ignore the desire to dip in just a little closer to the pleasing aroma at the nape of her neck. He'd caught himself brushing a strand of hair from her face as he spoke quietly into her ear, an act so strangely intimate that it startled him. Quickly he'd stepped away from her, clearing his throat and telling her to go ahead and fire away…but he wasn't getting away that easy. In celebration of each accurate shot she'd seized him for one of her inescapable (and dreadfully welcomed) hugs and had prolonged his exposure to the new fragrance. For such a faint scent to cling to his clothing and linger on his skin even when he'd reached his room and undressed for bed hours later it must have been created by dark forces. He'd stood in his room; bare-chested and aghast after tossing the shirt into the hamper, sniffing each of his biceps and groaning when the scent of DG had wafted up to greet him. The cold bath he'd taken to remove the fragrance had, of course, been to save the time it would take for the water to heat…because he was just so exhausted. There was no other reason for it, and if you held a gun to his temple he'd swear it to be truth.

Wyatt shook his head to snap himself from these thoughts and cleared his throat. "Have you noticed something…strange…about the Princess lately?" He tried, hoping to get a second opinion without rousing any unwanted questions from Glitch, but this was a tricky proposition. Most times he could tiptoe around the Ambrose side of his friend but once that egghead had its synopses firing in the right order it was like being on the wrong side of an interrogation table. He'd come to think of Ambrose as a separate and unknown entity living within his friend, something that came and went, sometimes taking over completely, sometimes joining Glitch in what was going on around them and at other times simply amusing himself in a quiet recess of Glitch's consciousness. Thankfully Ambrose was in one of said recesses at that moment, likely inventing a contraption that could follow Wyatt around the palace, tripping him on stairs even when he was in the presumed safety outside the landmine of the lab.

"Hmm?" Glitch asked, tearing his gaze from the smiling, sunbathed vision of DG and turning back to Cain. "Oh – yes." He said, his features suddenly tightening thoughtfully. "Actually now that you mention it she has been acting rather uncharacteristically Princess-like these past few days." The words had no sooner left his lips then his hand was clamped over his mouth. He looked around them worriedly, something (Ambrose) inside of him had apparently insisted that it was improper to say such things.

"Easy, head-case. Nobody else is around; all the nosey maids seem to be flocking to DG at the moment." Wyatt assured and watched Glitch visibly relax at the assurance. "So what do you think she's up to?" He asked.

"Up to?" Glitch asked in surprise. "Why must she be always be 'up to' something?" He said with a laugh.

Wyatt arched a brow, choosing not to point out the fact that being up to no good was simply a part of who DG was and instead waiting to hear the head-case's take on the situation.

"Maybe she is just excited about this party tonight. It's not every day you are the cause for a royal masquerade ball, after all… It's not every day you are the cause for a royal masquerade ball, after all…" Wyatt clapped Glitch on the back, as if to give his brain a jumpstart and Glitch gave a quick, slightly embarrassed smile of appreciation before continuing. "They had me teach her some traditional dance steps a few days ago, you know – and might I say she's a marvelous student – so I'm sure it didn't stop there. She's likely had maids fawning over her all week trying on dresses and whatnot, teaching her proper etiquette and such. That sort of thing is bound to make a girl feel…girly." His face contorted thoughtfully yet again as he ran the sentence through his mind, tracing the words with his fingers in the air before him and looking skyward, tongue in cheek, as he tried to decide whether he'd conveyed his point properly.

Wyatt sighed and nodded. Glitch did have a point there; the whole palace was in frenzy over this stupid ball. If it wasn't for the security risks such an event posed he would have gladly opted out. But leaving DG alone to her own devices? In a crowded palace? Filled with thousands of strangers? Any of which might be there with ill-intent? No. He'd have to put on his game face and fight his way through a night of frill and arrogance for the sake of his DG – CHARGE. His charge.

The thought of someone getting past the checkpoints without being properly screened by a viewer…his pulse quickened and he absently fingered the charm where it rested against his chest, well concealed beneath his shirt. Which reminded him…

"Read anything interesting about…" He waited for Glitch to turn to him and gave him a meaningful look, his hand still clutching the impossibly heavy bit of mystery-metal.

"As a matter of fact, yes…but nothing that will blow you away…just some bits of history and further abilities of the charm. It was crafted by the very first white witch of the OZ for her…Protector…" More specifically, her lover…but Glitch wasn't saying that. "And with its magic he was able to keep Nura, the white witch, and her children…" their children "safe from harm until his dying day. It is said to perceive all manner of danger, not strictly physical. Othniel, her Protector, was able to sense when people were conspiring against Nura and the children for political gain, attempting to take advantage of them in any aspect and even when someone was lying to them– no matter how insignificant the lie." Glitch rattled this off without pausing for air or misfiring once, his eyes wide and excited like a child who'd just found a new toy but glimmering with that trademark intelligence that signified complete Ambrose lucidity.

"Lies, huh?" Wyatt asked, and despite himself his voice gave away his intrigue. "Ought to come in handy...the kid is bound to have a whole host of enemies beyond just those stupid enough to raise a finger to harm her."

That's right. You heard it. He said 'the kid'. It was high time he started resorting to drastic measures here. If he didn't keep that whole twenty annual age gap in mind Gale only knew what other thoughts might spring up in there.

"So have you decided what you're wearing tonight?" Glitch asked hopefully in an attempt to change the subject, but frowned at Wyatt's disinterested shrug. "Well you have at least realized that you will be dancing with the birthday girl at some point, right?" His jaw dropped at the 'that's not gonna happen' look that came in response. "Wyatt Cain!" He barked in a whisper. "You are the guardian of the Princess of the OZ and you will most definitely be asking her to dance at least once…." he insisted but Cain only glared at him. "At least for the sake of appearances! What if people start to think she's being escorted around by some unrefined brute that hides from public scrutiny all the time and takes no heed to the decorum of such an affair? This is one occasion where keeping your distance will be perceived as a bad thing. It's all politics, these events. If you stick to the perimeter of the room all night the talking will start, you know. The whispering. 'Why does he not want others to see them interact in public? What does he have to hide? How often does the Queen allow this man to guard over her daughter without supervision, anyway?'"

Wyatt's brow arched at this revolting twist in perception. But…but…

But Glitch was just gearing up. "Oh, I can see it now; it will be the sensation of the OZ! Front page gossip in the Central City Times by morning!" Glitch held up his hand as if holding each word of the headline: "'Custodian or Corruptor? You decide. An in-depth look into the shadow that pursues our Princess of Light.' Reporters will be digging around for anyone with something bad to say about you, and after the criminal arms twisted over the course of your time with the Tin Men I'd say they'll be in no shortage of slander." He could see the worry lines creasing atop Wyatt's brow no matter how low that hat was resting and sighed (partly in relief that it had been so easy, he'd thought for sure he'd have far more work ahead of him before the Tin Man would cave). "Just one dance, Cain. What harm can come of it?"

What harm indeed, he thought to himself glumly.

DG sat across the garden and watched Wyatt out of the corner of her eye as the girls all joked about how uneasy their presence was making him and discussed their own costumes for the evening. She'd convinced the Queen…her Mother…her Mother, her Mother, her Mother…God she had to get used to that before she flubbed in front of some diplomat and caused the woman unintended insult. Anyway, she'd convinced her Mother that these maids should be excluded from decorating since they were helping her prepare for the evening, which was, after all, the truth. Flo had finished relaying her vision of the costume design a few days earlier and with the help of Leanne's artistic abilities they had the layout on paper to work from – after that it was an all-hands effort to pull it together in time. The finished product was something beyond her wildest dreams, something straight out of a fairytale. She'd been incapable of holding back her tears as she hugged the girls and said her thanks.

Despite herself (and her general hatred of such a royal fuss) DG was actually excited for the evening – more specifically seeing Wyatt's reaction to how she would look; her stomach was so busy with butterflies that it was hard to sit still enough for Bee to paint her nails. She refused to consider the thousands of strangers that she'd be forced to speak with, the fact that she'd be the center of an unbelievable amount of attention – all that mattered was showing Wyatt tonight that despite being a free spirit she was by no means a child.

She had noticed a marked difference in the steely blue eyes of her Tin Man since the forming of the SPCA. Immediately a grin spread across her lips at the memory of their nickname. The first time she'd exited her room in a dress he looked ready to apologize and move on thinking he'd knocked at the wrong door. It had been difficult to contain her pleasure seeing him do that very first wondrous double-take (as there had been so many since then), the way his face had flushed and eyes had scanned the length of 'the new dress'…certainly not the way it was flowing over her hips. The girls had been dead-on in their choice of 'feminine but down-to-earth'. There was something so genuinely sweet in the way he drank in each new thing, the way he casually touched the sleeve of her dresses, the way he so discretely enjoyed the scent of her perfume, the way he studied the makeup surrounding her eyes as they spoke, the way he'd picked some unseen leaf from her curled locks of hair the first time Rhonda had styled it for her.

She'd wanted to catch his attention and by all means she had. On their last outing he'd stood so closely as he taught her to use a gun; the memory of his rough hands guiding her arms into position, the way he's nudged the inside of her boot with his own telling her to widen her stance, the recollection of him speaking in such low tones behind her ear still gave her goose-bumps. Wyatt wasn't the only one who'd been greeted with a welcoming scent on their clothes when changing for bed that night. The marked difference was she had savored the surprise, taking her Wyatt aftershave scented shirt to bed with her and huffing it like a drug. Their riding lesson had been all but ignored, for one excuse or another they would dismount and walk beside one another, talking quietly and enjoying one another's company. He'd tried to press for information into her sudden friendship with the women of the staff but gave up after several dismissive responses from her.

Movement heading in their direction caught her eye and she looked up to see Glitch passing on his way back to the palace. "Good morning, Princess." He said casually, but the way his eyes widened before he gave her a discrete wink told her he'd done his part. During their private dance lesson several days prior the subject of who she would and would not be dancing with had been broached…which had led to the revelation that Glitch was far more perceptive than one would have thought (but then again she had no clue he'd been given insider information).

She'd stared at him in wide-eyed shock, one hand still on his shoulder and the other cradled in his outstretched palm as she halted the dance steps in response to his casual, "and I'm sure you will be eager to dance with a certain blue eyed friend of ours…" Her mouth could only hang open uselessly in response.

Glitch had laughed and told her it was alright, that no one was within hearing range of them and that he had no intention of breathing a word of it to another. Well, aside from Raw, he explained, because no one could keep a secret from old fuzzy-lips. DG had nearly wept as she hugged him, recalling all over again why she cared so deeply for him. He had explained that dancing with advisors and other of the most trusted members of the royal staff was expected at these events – and that Wyatt should be no exception to the rule. It was his own idea to play the "gossip" card in convincing the stubborn Tin Man to relent in his standoffishness, knowing the great lengths Wyatt had taken to prevent any rumors spreading about his time spent with DG.

And judging by the grin on his face as he bowed his head slightly and entered the palace DG gathered that it had worked like a charm.

Rose let out a choppy sigh watching Glitch retreat and DG smiled knowingly. She'd most definitely be arranging a dance between the two later in the evening, enough was enough – they'd been staring at one another from a distance for months now like two lovesick teenagers. Besides, it was the least she could do since both of them were helping her get closer to Wyatt.

"Well, darling…it's time to go get started on that hair." Chelsea said and grinned seeing DG spin to face her, the slightest hint of nervousness evident in her features.

The Princess took a deep breath and cast Wyatt one last look. It was finally time.

AUTHOR'S NOTE:

So this took forever and a freaking day to get rolling – but hold off on pelting me with rotten vegetables if you will. Life's been crazy busy and after a series of screwed up events both online and at work (negative feedback, plagiarism of my stories, dead rats being left on my counter by psychos) my Muse took an unexcused leave of absence. She's finally back to floating around my head after her hiatus so let's PRAY it's for good.

Want to help speed this story along? If you read it - FEED it!

It's like when Tinkerbell was dying and everyone who believed in fairies had to clap to save her - if you want to help with updates you need to review. Nothing gets my inspirations going like seeing that people are truly enjoying what they're reading.

Kisses to all my girls - I've missed you terribly and I'm thrilled to be back in the saddle again ;)