Title: There's No Place like Home
Disclaimer: Nope!
Thanks to SteeleSimz, WeBuiltThePyramids, FlavishiamXIII, and Loes-chan for the reviews!
2—Ding Dong the Witch Is Dead
"I can't honestly say I'm not surprised." Jane commented to Lisbon, as Grace swept forward from the display of rose and black smoke to stare at them. "I had expected Madeleine to burst forth from the impressive special effects, not Grace." Lisbon greeted Grace with the sharp tilt of her head, as Grace's sturdy black witches' hat bobbed back in response.—Even if Madeleine had burst forth, he chortled silently, I doubt I'd be able to take her seriously either.—
Grace shifted to glance at him. "Do you have a problem with me being the Wicked Witch of the West?"
"Not at all," Jane answered. "I just wondered why you, of all people I know, would be the Wicked Witch I'll have to…" He felt Lisbon elbow him, roughly and he glanced at her in surprise. "What?"
"You're on a journey. You're not supposed to go home in the very beginning." Lisbon responded in a hiss. "If you did go home, what lessons would you learn?"
He grinned at her, "I would learn the lesson that shortcuts are very effective, and that people should use them more often?"
"That was a rhetorical question, Jane; there will be no shortcuts here." He wanted to argue with her, but he quickly decided at her glare that he had better pick his battles wisely—who knows what else she can do with that pencil-wand of hers.—"Do you have any additional comments that you would like to make, before we continue on?"
"Why, yes I do!" Jane commented. "You changed my entire wardrobe, Lisbon; I feel that goes against my constitutional rights."
"Oh, shut up Jane." Grace threw. "You killed my sister."
"Technically," Jane interjected. "My couch killed your sister; I was in the wrong place at the wrong time." He shrugged at the irritated Grace, who continued to clench her broomstick tight to her chest. "I know Lisbon will point out the utter lack of importance in knowing who the Wicked Witch of the East was, but I felt I would ask you—considering you're her sister and all."
"I can't very well make accidents happen to a couch, so I'll have to come up with an excellent accident for you…" Grace ignored his questions—just like the real Grace, he amused himself.—and Lisbon turned to interrupt Grace from her accident rant.
"Aren't you forgetting the ruby red slippers?"
Jane quickly glanced down at his feet. "You're not putting those on me, Lisbon. Plaid is one thing." He sighed at the sight of his still very familiar brown and worn shoes on his feet. "Ruby red heels are a completely different story." Jane tilted his head back up to Grace, who held quite a temper at the disappearance of the ruby red slippers and her "sister's" legs under the couch.
"They're gone! Gone!" Grace shrieked, and Jane glanced at Lisbon—who also looked extremely uncomfortable with the display of emotion. Grace turned slowly to glance at them both, when her eyes went straight for his chest. "How could this be possible?" Grace moved her finger to point at his chest, and he glanced down to find that he had somehow managed to gain a bright ruby, red tie which dangled loosely upon his chest.
"Now, I know I'm on something." Jane muttered, as he fingered the soft red material in his hands.—Dorothy only tapped her heels together three times and muttered "there's no place like home", he remembered, how do I activate this tie?—"I guess I can rock a ruby tie, but it's not my style."
Grace slowly approached him and held out her hand. "Give me that back. You have absolutely no idea how to use it."
"I actually knew how to use the ruby red slippers," Jane pointed out. "Lisbon only changed them into a tie, so I couldn't leave without learning a life lesson." He scoffed. "I'm sure figuring out how to manipulate them won't be completely impossible." Lisbon elbowed him again. "You sure are enjoying that, aren't you?" Lisbon nodded. "I thought the Good Witch of the North was supposed to be a woman of non-violent core values and morals."
Lisbon ignored him. "You mustn't take that tie off, Jane." She advised, and he opened his mouth slightly to ask her why, when she pressed forward. "If you do take that tie off, I will arrest you and you'll never go home."
"I don't see why you find that funny, Lisbon." Jane pouted. "I miss my couch."
She gently laughed in response.
"Stay out of this, Lisbon." Grace snapped, and Lisbon raised her eyebrow in question.
"Excuse me, Grace?" Lisbon asked. "You have absolutely no power here…"
"Neither of you do." Jane pointed out. "You don't even own a pair of handcuffs here."
Both women ignored him. "…be gone, before somebody decides to drop their couch on you."
"Do you know how unlikely that is?" Jane asked.
"Fine." Grace agreed. "But, I will be back to get you and your pretty little dog, too! Mark my words."
Grace backed away from them both, before she completely disappeared into a cloud of smoke and Jane couldn't help but stare at Lisbon.
"That's not even my dog." Jane cried, while Lisbon turned to the Munchkins.
"It's all right. You all can get up now." The Munchkins slowly rose, before Lisbon turned back to Jane. "You've made quite an enemy out of her; the sooner you're out of Oz, the safer you'll be."
"If you'd just tell me how to work this tie," Jane responded. "I'd be a hundred times safer than if I actually went on this journey." Lisbon ignored him again.
"You'll need to see The Wizard of Oz, but no worries—he is good, if not a little frightening." Lisbon appeared in thought. "Did you bring a broomstick?"
Jane stared. "Do I look like I'm carrying a broomstick?"
"You'll have to walk then." Lisbon decided, dryly. "Have fun with that."
"If I have to take this journey; aren't you going to, at the very least, tell me how to get there?" Jane asked, and Lisbon sighed. "None of this brick looks yellow, and nobody is singing me a song heaped with directional cues."
Lisbon folded her arms. "You just follow the red brick road until you hit Emerald City."
"The red brick road?" Jane asked. "I thought the road was yellow."
"It was, once upon a time." Lisbon explained. "But, the Wicked Witch of the West thought red was a much better color." Jane said nothing, and she glanced down at the brick. "Well, you had best be off—remember, do not take off that tie. If you do, the Wicked Witch of the West will have you at her mercy." Lisbon slowly faded back into the pink bubble, and the Munchkins cheered after her.
Jane said nothing, as he started off on his journey—picnic basket and Cranberry by his side.
X.X.X
The fork in the road had somehow managed to brighten Jane's spirit, as he stopped to glance down at Cranberry, who he had yet been able to shake off.
"I would ask which way to go, but I know how this part of the movie goes." Jane muttered, and glanced around in the direction of the three paths. He suddenly stepped forward as Cranberry barked. "We'll go this way."
"You're making the wrong decision." Jane turned slightly toward the enclosed garden to stare at the perched scarecrow. "Most people think they should go straight, when really, they should go left." The scarecrow moved his hand to point in the direction of the left path, and Jane just really wanted to ignore him—but if Lisbon had been the Good Witch, and Grace had been the Bad Witch—he couldn't just leave the scarecrow to hang, especially if it was somebody he knew. "Jane, could you let me down?" Jane shrugged, and went to help the scarecrow down.
"Now, I'm sure you'll be quite fine on your own." Jane stated, as the scarecrow crashed to the ground in a heap of limbs and straw. "I've really got to get to the Wizard, so I can get home to Sacramento."
"You're going to visit a Wizard?" The scarecrow asked in awe, and Jane slowly turned back to stare at the scarecrow, who was stuffing himself back together. "Do you think if I came with you; he would grant me a br…?" The scarecrow, he quickly came to realize, was none other than Wayne Rigsby.
"Do none of you sing around here, anymore?" Jane asked, and Rigsby glanced at him.
"We're supposed to sing?"
"Well, yes." Jane answered. "You're supposed to tell me how you want a brain, through the use of music." Rigsby shook his head. "Then, I'm supposed to be persuaded enough to take you with me to the Emerald City."
Rigsby lifted himself from the ground, and stood over Jane. "I could sing, if you really wanted me too—but I would rather not."
"I'd rather do without the song also, really." Jane answered. "I just want to get back home, so I can have some tea." Rigsby nodded in understanding. "I suppose I should introduce you to Cranberry."
"Cranberry?" Rigsby asked.
"Cranberry is the dog I was given by the Good Witch of the North." Jane explained, as he pointed down to the small, dark dog. "She also decided to change my wardrobe, and send a Wicked Witch after me."
"Witch, huh?" Rigsby asked.—everybody is just ignoring that Lisbon started this entire mess, Jane thought.—"I'm not afraid of a witch. I'm not afraid of anything—except for a lighted match."
Jane shrugged—I can't blame him there.—as he started off in the direction where he believed Emerald City was located. Rigsby followed close behind him and Cranberry. "Suit yourself."