Title: There's No Place like Home
Disclaimer: Yeah, I don't think so.
Thanks to SergeantFuzzyBoots, vanrigsby, Loes-chan, My Tinkering Belle, Wldwmn, Frogster, SteeleSimz, and WeBuiltThePyramids for the reviews!
3—If I Only Had a Heart and Courage
"I'm hungry." Rigsby told Jane, as they continued their way down the red brick road and came upon a bunch of trees, which had sprouted enough apples to feed a small army. Jane glanced at his straw companion, and cocked his eyebrow in the response to him being "hungry".—I didn't think scarecrows could get hungry, Jane silently mused—"I think I'll get us some apples; red delicious apples are not named simply for their colors, you know?"
Jane shook his head, and watched from afar in amusement as Rigsby tiptoed to the pair of apple trees, where he went to grab one of the apples.
"Ouch!" Rigsby cried, as the branch of the tree smacked his straw arm away. (Somehow, the scarecrow didn't seem any worse for wear.) Rigsby dropped the apple onto the ground, and Jane stepped backwards—he didn't need to have any special talents to know that an apple storm was about to befall them all.
"What do you think you're doing?" Jane stared at the trees without blinking, and realized that both of the trees held an odd resemblance to the faces of Bertram and LaRoche. Neither of the influential men looked too happy about Rigsby plucking apples from their limbs, and Jane barely managed to mask his snort of laughter into a cough.
The kind of politics both men did was like the fruit off a poisonous tree; full of worms and diseases, so it really wasn't much of a surprise that they would both be disgruntled trees.
"I was hungry!" Rigsby defended himself. "I just wanted an apple…"
"Well, scarecrow!" Bertram-tree responded. "How would you feel if I picked something off you?"
Jane stepped forward. "Come on, Rigsby. We'll find you something else to eat." Rigsby nodded, but the pair of trees didn't even seem too thrilled about that idea.
"Are you implying something about us?" LaRouche-tree asked. Jane almost listened to the Lisbon-like voice in his head telling him to play nice, but what good did playing nice do to a bunch of earnest trees?
"Yes, I am!" Jane answered with a bright smile. "Your apples are…" He didn't get to finish the sentence, before the pair of angry politician trees threw apples at them. "Run, Rigsby! Run!" Rigsby didn't need to be told twice to run, as they both plus the dog took off from the trees to avoid from becoming a target when Jane tumbled into something, hard and made of tin.
"I think it's a man of tin." Rigsby told Jane. "Do you think anybody's in there?"
"I'm never getting home, am I?" Jane asked, as he glanced up at the blue sky and Rigsby held out the oil can to Jane.
"You can do the honors."
Jane wearily accepted the silver oil can with a wicked smile before he decided to just squirt the tin man everywhere. Normally, he would have taken his time and angered the individuals around him with his avoided carefulness—but he still had no idea what Lisbon would do, especially if he refused to do everything the long way.
The tin man moved a foot, and Rigsby cried in joy. Jane continued to squirt the oil.
"Maybe he'll sing for you, Jane." Rigsby pointed out, humorously. "I've never seen a tin man before."
"Yeah?" The tin man asked, after Jane had finally managed to hit his mouth with the rather small nozzle. "I've never seen a talking scarecrow either." Jane smiled brightly at the words from the tin man, especially as the man stepped out of his hiding space and stood next to Rigsby (who still towered over him slightly).
Jane smiled brightly. "I should have known it was going to be you, Cho."
"I've been rusted solid for ages." Cho gave. "Thanks for freeing me."
"It was all Rigsby." Jane explained, with his hand aimed at the scarecrow. "I would have never found you, if it weren't for his stomach."
"Jane found me." Rigsby continued, when Cho glanced over at him. "He's going to visit a Wizard."
"A Wizard?" Cho asked.
"He wants to get back to…" Rigsby trailed off and looked to Jane for help.
"Sacramento." Jane answered. "I'm not from around here."
Cho took one look at him. "I would say you aren't."
Jane scowled. "I didn't wake up wearing this, so you know."
"I bet you didn't."
Rigsby shook his head. "Would you like to visit the Wizard with us?" Cho glanced up at the sky.
"It's supposed to rain. I'll rust."
"We'll carry the oil can." Jane offered.
Cho nodded. "I have nothing else to do, so sure. Maybe the Wizard would give me a heart."
Jane glanced at him. "You realize you have a heart, right?"
"No, I don't." Cho hit his tin arm against his hollow chest, and nothing sounded besides a loud bang. "If I had a heart, you'd hear it."
"I…" Jane shook his head.—it's pointless to convince them, really—he then decided to switch subjects. "I want to say that we've traveled for what feels like forever, especially with all those corn fields…" Jane paused, as something cackled from behind him. He (along with Cho and Rigsby) slowly turned to find Grace perched on top of the old house's roof.
"Grace?" Rigsby asked, in surprise. "You're the Wicked Witch?"
"I had the same reaction." Jane told him. "But alas, our Grace Van Pelt is the Wicked Witch of the West." Nobody said anything for a minute, until Cho blinked up at Grace.
"That makes no sense." Cho answered.
"Why Grace?" Rigsby asked.
Grace turned back to stare at Jane, while she ignored the small conversation between the tin man and the scarecrow. "You call this long? I don't think you both know the definition of long."
"You have a broom." Jane replied. "I have feet; journeys are always much longer on feet." Grace rolled her eyes, before she focused back on the other half of the party.
"Helping Jane along are we, my fine gentlemen?" Grace asked.
Cho glanced up at Grace. "Somebody has too."
"Well, you should stay away from him." Grace gave. "Or I will…" she paused, and Jane glanced at her. "…stuff a mattress with you."
Rigsby frowned. "You wouldn't do that."
"Yes, I would!" Grace responded. "Don't bet against it."
Jane snorted. "You couldn't hurt a fly."
And in his earnest surprise, a fireball flew at all three of them; Rigsby dived out of the way, as did Cho. Jane merely grinned in delight. "Oh Grace! I understand why you and…" Another fireball flew at him.
It missed, luckily and Grace vanished without another word.
Rigsby spun on Jane. "You made Grace the Wicked Witch?" His small eyes narrowed, and Jane playfully pouted.
"I didn't wake up this morning and decide I was going to go on a journey, Rigsby." Jane grumbled. "I had no idea I was going to travel the Land of Oz with nothing more than you two, and a dog."
Cho glanced at Cranberry. "Why do you have a dog?"
"Lisbon."
The one word explained everything still, at least in his mind.
"I'm sure The Good Witch of the North had a reason for giving you a dog." Rigsby responded. "If she didn't, the dog wouldn't be here." Jane wanted to argue with the scarecrow, but he quickly realized that the longer they stood around—the longer it was until he could have his tea and his couch back. He shot the two a bright smile.
"Shall we continue down the red brick road?"
"We're not going to hold tight to each other, are we?" Rigsby asked, and Cho glanced at him. "I have nothing against it, but…"
"I'm fine without the touching." Cho gave. "Jane?"
"I could do with some singing."
Cho and Rigsby shared a quick glance, before both replied in unison. "No."
Jane said nothing, as the group of three plus dog continued forward.
The Oz Forest, Jane realized, looked like any other dark forest; brooding trees, creepy birds, and eyes that watched you everywhere. In honesty, he had thought about passing the entire forest up—but it was a short cut, and he just really wanted to see who the Cowardly Lion was. Nobody said anything as they started through the forest, but Jane paused before any of them were halfway through.
"Why'd we stop?" Rigsby asked.
"I just feel that somebody needs to say it." Jane gave, but both men gave him blank stares. "Lions and Tigers and Bears, oh my."
Cho stared. "I don't think you'll find any bears or tigers in here."
"You might find a few lions, but most of them aren't exactly…" Rigsby trailed off, as he glanced around. "I really don't like this forest."
"You're supposed to be brave, remember." Jane pointed out. "I'm the one who cowers in fright."
"You're not the heroine of this tale, Jane." Cho grumbled.
"I am the one with the girl name; so technically, I am the heroine of this tale." Jane concluded. "Which means, I think we all need to say it."
Rigsby shook his head. "It might attract wild animals."
"Lions don't eat straw anyway." Cho remarked, and Rigsby shrugged.
"I'd rather not become a litter box."
Something roared from the forest trees.
"What was that?" Rigsby asked.
"It sounded like a large cat." Cho answered.
"I told you," Jane repeated with a smile. "Lions and Tigers and…"
"Jane!" Something roared from the trees, and Cho glanced at him.
"Who did you anger this time?"
"No one!" Jane defended, before he paused. "Well, I did anger Lisbon. I've also angered Grace, but she's the Wicked Witch of this tale."—I can't believe I'm going along with this form of insanity, Jane thought—"I doubt Lisbon would be hiding in the trees." Jane stepped forward, when suddenly something burst forth from the trees with a loud roar of Jane—everybody jumped back in surprise. "I think it's a lion."
Cho snorted. "You think?"
Jane glanced at Cho. "You're supposed to be hiding."
"Lions don't eat tin." Cho offered in explanation. "I'm safe here." It was then, that the yellow-furred creature glanced up from its prowl and stared straight at Jane—the mass of fur and the brown mane made it nearly impossible to make out any facial distinctions, but Jane soon figured that the Cowardly Lion was none other than the CBI head honcho, Luther Wainwright.
And Wainwright, much like Lisbon didn't look amused to see him.
"I never would have figured you for the Cowardly Lion, Wainwright." Jane critiqued the annoyed man. "But, you are the Cowardly Lion—which means, we can continue on to Oz now." Jane stepped forward when Wainwright grabbed him.
"Where do you think you're going, Jane?" Wainwright asked.
"To the Wizard, of course." Jane brightly offered and at Wainwright's odd glance, he continued. "I'm willing to let you come with us, because I'm sure your lion-y coward skills will be put to the test…" Wainwright growled. "I'm also sure you three want to be rid of me."
Wainwright nodded. "The sooner the better."
Rigsby frowned. "You're not that bad, Jane. Except for the witch thing."
"Witch thing?" Wainwright asked.
"It's a long story." Cho answered.
"The Good Witch of the North sent the Wicked Witch of the West after him." Rigsby explained, and Wainwright nodded. "We're going to see the Wizard, so I can get a brain…"
"…you already have that." Jane interjected.
Rigsby ignored him. "The tin man wants a heart."
"…you already have that also; living without a heart is impossible." Jane interrupted again. "But I can already guess our lion wants courage."
Wainwright blinked. "Actually, I just want you to leave."
"Fair enough." Jane accepted with a bright smile. "Should we leave now, so we can finish this journey before tea time?" Everybody nodded in acceptance, and they continued on without a song—to Jane's dismay.