AN: Hello, Kats and Kittens! How're things? Well, I hope. Anyway, I certainly hope you like this next one. :)

Chapter Two: Night the First

"Mister Cain?"

The tin man was pulled into consciousness by an urgent pressure on his side followed by a huff and a wheeze. He groaned, opening his eyes slightly and hissing when they burned painfully.

"Glitch?" He mumbled, feeling something shift beneath him.

"Mister Cain, you're crushing me," came a disgruntled voice and another wheezing breath. Cain used what little strength he had to push himself up into a sitting position, grasping the figure beneath him as the other man sat up as well and took a much-needed breath.

"Thank you," Ambrose sighed with relief, aware that Cain's hand was still tightly clenched around his arm and his eyes were screwed shut. "It'll take just a moment for your eyes to readjust. That light that flashed just before we transported was-"

"What?" Cain interrupted harshly, pushing past the pain and squinting his eyes to glare at the inventor. "What do you mean 'transported'? Transported where?"

"Uh," the adviser faltered, wincing as the tin man's grip only tightened. "I-I'm afraid I don't know. It still . . . seems like the O.Z." Cain listened in the pause that followed o the ruffle of the man's clothing as he twisted around slightly. "There are two suns, I'm pretty sure, so we must be in . . . The other side doesn't have two suns, does it? No, I don't think so, not unless-"

Cain sighed, tired of the incoherent ramble already but happy to know that they were at least still in the O.Z. The tin man could get them back to the palace from practically anywhere in the Outer Zone.

"Glitch," he stopped the other from continuing, "let's just . . . stand up nice and slow, all right? Get our bearings so we know which way we're headed."

With some difficulty, the two managed to stand, Cain leaning on Ambrose a little more than he would have liked but his vision clearing more and more with every passing second. At last, when only a few dark spots danced in front of his eyes, he glanced around.

"Oh no," he moaned, turning in dismay.

"What? You know where we are?" Ambrose asked quietly, not liking the look on the other's face as the tin man pulled away from him.

"Unfortunately," Cain ground out, limping on a leg that had fallen asleep. "We're on the outskirts – dangerous territory." He shot an accusing glare at the inventor. "If your machine had spit us any further, we wouldn't be having this conversation."

Ambrose shuddered. He, like many others, had heard the stories when he was younger – the myths about the monsters that lived beyond the outskirts in the eternal darkness . . . the darkness that the witch had nearly brought to the O.Z. He wrapped his arms around himself as a chill ran through him.

"Don't be ridiculous, Mister Cain," he scolded half-heartedly, hoping his voice wasn't shaking as much as he thought it was. "Superstitious nonsense. Tales told around campfires to scare children."

Cain snorted, rubbing at his tingling leg. "Not all campfire stories are false, Glitch."

"Ambrose," the other man whispered without any real conviction. "My name is Ambrose . . . How far are we from the palace?"

Cain sighed, glancing up at the forest that was nearly blocking out the two suns. "I'd say it's a good week's trek, at least. I've never been this far without a horse, so I don't know for sure."

"A week?" Ambrose inquired feebly, the extended time with the other man worrying him more than the actual journey back to the palace.

"We'd best get moving." Cain glanced behind them fleetingly. "We want to be as far from that border as possible before the suns set."

The inventor nodded in agreement, sparing a quick look in the same direction before following the tin man through the dense woodland.

0 o 0 o 0

"Glitch, I don't think that's such a good idea."

Ambrose sighed, rolling his eyes as he continued to stalk toward a nearby apple orchard. He was not at all sure who it belonged to, but he could feel the magic radiating from it – a protective spell, no doubt, to keep thieves from sneaking off with any precious apples. Getting anything from the enchanted trees was going to take some serious smarts, and the inventor wasn't anything if not smart now that his marbles were in the right place.

"For the last time, Mister Cain," he said with annoyance, "my name is Ambrose. Is that so difficult to remember?"

"Only if it's too difficult to stop calling me 'Mister Cain,'" the tin man complained, shaking his head as Ambrose halted just outside the orchard grounds. "What are you doing?"

"Getting us some apples," the other replied matter-of-factly, placing his hands on his hips as the corners of his mouth turned downward in a contemplative frown.

Cain cocked an eyebrow. "How is it you plan on getting apples from an enchanted orchard?"

"All in good time, Sir," was the only answer. Ambrose turned on his heels, searching the ground with narrowed eyes. When he spotted the desired object, he reached down and snatched it, tossing it upwards a couple of times to get a good feel for it.

"A rock?" Cain asked incredulously. "You're getting us apples with a rock?"

Ambrose merely smirked. But this was no ordinary smirk. This was a smirk that Cain had seen dozens of times on their adventures with DG and Raw. This smirk was almost always dangerous and almost always a certainty of trouble. This smirk was an inner-channeling of Glitch himself. And Cain could almost swear that in the twilight of the two setting suns he was seeing his old friend standing there and defying regulations like it was just another day – just another adventure.

Ambrose turned, then, and hurled the rock into the orchard with all the grace and precision he had acquired in his years of service to the queen. The rock sailed – further than Cain himself might have been able to throw – and bounced off one of the nearest trees. The two men stood perfectly still, holding their breath. When nothing happened, Cain released the air in his lungs in an aggravated gust.

"Nice try," he shrugged, beginning to turn, but Ambrose stood his ground, cupping his hands over his mouth and beginning to shout into the orchard.

"Hey, ugly!" The tree in question's leaves seemed to bristle, and the entire thing tilted questioningly. "Yea, you, bark for brains! Whatcha got growing there? Crabapples?" The tree straightened, suddenly, looking almost taller then it had before. A few trees beside it began to shudder awake as well.

Cain watched the scene in awe. He'd seen very little real magic in his lifetime – other than that of DG and the mystic man, of course – but this was certainly not something he'd ever dreamed possible.

Ambrose turned to him with a pointed look. "Are you going to help me get dinner or just stand there and gawk?" Cain raised an eyebrow in curiosity, and the inventor rolled his eyes. "Those apples aren't going to throw themselves at us, Mister Cain."

The tin man scowled, stepping up next to the other and staring out over the shivering orchard.

"Hey!" He called, and the trees stiffened, seeming to turn in his direction. "What are ya? A bunch of wilting ferns? I've seen greener leaves on old, twisted grandmother oaks!"

Cain was startled when the first apple sailed only inches from the side of his head, taking a step back and watching the object bounce off the ground a couple of times before rolling to a stop.

"Very good, Mister Cain," Ambrose complimented with raised eyebrows and the semblance of a smile. The tin man would have growled had more apples not been launched toward them. He turned back to the trees, only to be hit square in the nose by a rather large, shiny apple.

"Oh, that one looks delicious!" The adviser commented, reaching for it and just barely missing an apple aimed straight at his own head. Cain held his nose for a minute, rubbing at it as his eyes watered uncontrollably.

"Son of a . . ." His vision cleared, and he looked out over the orchard, watching as disturbingly gnarled, hand-like branches plucked apples from behind leaves and lobbed them at the two men. Ambrose was catching quite a few, placing them in the make-shift cradle he'd made with his shirt by folding the bottom of it up towards his stomach. Cain removed his hat, catching a few apples and using it to hold them.

Ambrose let loose a hearty laugh, catching and dodging and generally using the grace and skill he exerted when fighting. He turned towards Cain, then, the smile on his face only growing wider.

"Having fun, Cain?" It was perhaps the first carefree phrase the tin man had heard from the adviser since having first encountered him with his newly-acquired brain, giving Cain hope that his friend was not quite as gone as he'd thought.

Suddenly, the blond man noticed an apple heading for the inventor's head at an alarming speed. Cain's eyes widened as he put a hand out and dropped his hat.

"Ambrose!" He said with concern, watching with horror as the apple got nearer and nearer. Cain winced at the smacking sound that echoed, his heart jumping into his throat as the queen's voice rang through his ears:

"I want you to look after him. He's vulnerable. If anything happens to him, his entire surgery could be in vain . . . I'm trusting you, Mister Cain. Please take care of my dear Ambrose."

The tin man blinked, pushing the memory away as he watched Ambrose bring his hand down from his temple, the apple clutched tightly in his fingers.

"Hmm," he said thoughtfully, turning the object around in his grasp. "I think we've collected enough, don't you, Mister Cain?"

Cain could only nod, looking down at his feet, where his hat lay. Only two apples had spilled from it, and he doubted very much that it mattered, seeing the large bulge in Ambrose's shirt-turned-apple-holder. They started off towards flatter ground, a few apples still whizzing past them or rolling by their feet.

By the time they reached an acceptable campsite to settle down for the night, it was almost too dark to see where they were going. Cain lit a fire as quickly as possible.

Ambrose eyed a rather juicy apple in the pile he'd laid in Cain's coat on the ground, reaching for it and bringing it to his lips. Just as he was about to take a bite, strong fingers wrapped around his wrist, pulling the object away from his mouth. A pair of icy-blue eyes watched him from beneath furrowed brows, the firelight licking shadows across the strong jawline and emphasizing the frown on the man's face. It took the adviser a moment to recover from the sight, and he swallowed hard, rolling his eyes and sighing.

"Afraid you won't get your share, Mister Cain?" He asked a little more rudely than he'd intended. He sucked in a sharp breath, ready to apologize, but Cain interrupted him.

"You sure it's safe to eat these?" The tin man inquired skeptically, eyeing the object in question. He still hadn't removed his fingers from around the other man's wrist, and the contact caused Ambrose to falter slightly. Cain, however, took this as a bad sign and released him, grunting as he stood and turned. Ambrose's brain started up again at the loss of contact, and he scowled as Cain walked around the fire to sit beneath a nearby tree – but not before looking at it warily, the inventor observed.

"They're perfectly fine," Ambrose argued, taking a large bit to prove his point. He smiled as the sweet apple crunched nicely between his teeth, juice flooding his mouth and spilling smoothly down his throat.

"Wow," he breathed in pleasant surprise, reaching down and grasping another apple before tossing it over the fire at Cain. The tin man caught it, looking between it and Ambrose several times before sighing and taking an experimental bite.

His eyebrows rose. "Wow," he repeated Ambrose's statement. "This is . . ."

"Really good," Ambrose finished for him, taking another bite. By the time Cain had taken his third bite, the adviser was already onto his second apple.

"How'd you know how to do that?" The tin man asked softly, his voice barely audible over the crackling of the fire. Ambrose swallowed loudly and raised his eyebrows in question. "I mean, I wouldn't take a queen's adviser for one to be stealing apples from enchanted orchards."

Ambrose smiled gently, looking down at the apple in his hand to find another decent bite. "Apple thievery runs in the family." He gave Cain a mischievous smirk and took another large bite, leaving the other man to wonder whether he was being serious or not.

Later when the two dozed contently by the waning fire, Cain turned to his companion and said rather reservedly, "Very clever, head case."

The adviser smiled in his sleepy state, licking the remaining sweetness from his lips. "Why thank you, Wyatt."

AN: Questions? Comments? Vague disregard for any or all words written and established in the mind of one who has no sanity?

Hope this one was okay... This is actually the first chapter I wrote for this story. It was going to stand as a one-shot, but I had the idea to keep it going... which meant I needed a first chapter to explain why the hell they were out in the middle of nowhere getting apples thrown at them... Okay, done rambling.

Later, Gators! Catch you on the flip side. :)