Disclaimer: I don't own Tinman, even though I really really wish that Glitch was mine

Reviews are greatly appreciated, and constructive criticism is appeciated even more.

A young girl emerged from a bedroom, looking around to make sure no one saw her exit. Relieved to find that she was alone, she slunk down a corridor, her light footsteps creating no noise on the tile floor. Constantly glancing around the hallway, she picked up speed and almost broke into a run. But the sound of rapidly approaching footsteps caused her to stop, fear rooting her to the floor.

The footsteps became louder and louder until she couldn't stand it anymore. She snapped out of her fear-induced position and bolted behind a large potted plant. She disappeared from view just in time, for immediately afterward, a young man turned a corner and strode down the hallway, his long coat gently waving behind him. She watched as the man continued down the corridor and then stopped in front of a door. Coincidentally, it was the same door that the girl had only just emerged from.

He entered the bedroom only to find that the child was no longer sleeping on the bed. In fact, it appeared as though she was no longer even in the room. "Just great," he muttered. He put a hand to his forehead, taking in a deep breath. This was no time to panic. Strange children run loose around the palace everyday, right? Why wouldn't they? I mean, it's completely natural.

Leaving the empty room, he saw a small figure round a corner. He hurried after it, but did not run, for there really was no reason to. Well, at least there was no reason. But that quickly changed. When he rounded the corner and saw a thirteen-annual-old girl jogging down the hallway, he acted on impulse and shouted, "Stop!" The child looked back at him, fear evident in her hazel eyes, and then broke into a sprint.

"It just can't be easy." He ran after the child, whose thin legs carried her down the corridor at a surprising speed. When she reached a rather steep, spiraling staircase, she almost stopped. The man's nearing footfalls were what spurred her down the descent. She descended rapidly, flying down two steps at a time. She just wanted to get away from the man, and these stairs were making her dizzy.

Her pursuer was not enjoying this chase anymore than she was. He had previously told the two children of the home to never run up or down the staircases; if either of them saw him pursuing this child in such a manner, they'd berate him to no end for his hypocrisy.

Once she reached the landing, she bolted down an adjoining corridor, not noticing that the main entrance was at the end of the hallway that she had just left. The young man did not follow, for he knew that that corridor curved and eventually joined with the entrance hall again. He, therefore, simply strode over to where the hallways connected, but took care to stay behind a wall, and waited. Sure enough, he soon heard quick footfalls clicking against the floor.

When the child came into view, he immediately reached out and grabbed her arm, his hand completely circling the thin limb. The girl shrieked in terror and dropped to her knees. She was tired; she knew that struggling would do no good. Instead she cried.

"Please, please don't hit me! I'm sorry-I…I didn't mean to do anything wrong!" She closed her eyes shut tight and braced herself for a cuff.

He regarded the blubbering child with interest. When she had been brought there by her mother, she'd been wrapped in a blanket, so he had never gotten a good look at her. And the woman had taken her child up to a bedroom by herself so as to be alone when she said goodbye. Her mother stated that the child had passed out from excitement, for the girl was to live in this place of sovereigns in return for her services of housekeeping. In other words, she was to be a maid serving a family that he himself served. This was agreed upon when the mother convinced the head of the household that this child (well, young woman) was a hard worker who was easy to manage and would require absolutely no pay.

Now was the first time that he could really see what she looked like, and he was not pleased with the picture before him. She wore a brown dress, torn in several places, covered in stains of every sort. Her light brown hair hung in dirty, oily strands. Several bruises contrasted against the pale complexion of her face and arms. A long scar ran across her forehead and there appeared to be caked blood around her nostrils. An abused child. No wonder she thought that he would hurt her.

When no blow fell across her face, the child looked up at the man, her hazel eyes still dripping liquid crystals. "W-where's my m-mother?"

The question puzzled him. Why was she asking where her mother was? Unless…perhaps this was not the same girl whose mother had dropped her off several hours ago.

"Is your name Lynette?"

"Y-yes," she said, sniffling, "that's my name."

It was the same girl. But then why would she ask for her mother? Surely she knew that her mother had brought her to this domicile. No, of course she didn't know. He now highly doubted that the girl had simply passed out from excitement. He bent down until he was eye level with her and sniffed. The child was still breathing deeply due to her crying, and a faint odor lingered on her breath: venastryl. Venastryl powder was a powerful substance that would rend the consumer unconscious within seconds, usually presenting some uncomfortable side-effects upon waking.

He immediately understood everything. Lynette's mother must have given her some powder (whether or not she was aware of this, he could not be sure) and presented her unconscious figure to the queen, using the blanket to hide the child's marks of abuse, with the excuse that she had merely passed out. The girl most likely didn't even know where she was at the moment. No doubt she would have protested against being sent there if she had been able to, and that was why her mother drugged her unconscious. It was sad, really.

As she looked at him, she could see something in his dark brown eyes as he looked her up and down. She knew that look all too well. Whenever people saw her filthy, splotchy face and her ragged clothes caked with dirt, they always looked at her with that same expression. She hated it. She really didn't know what to call it, but she was still quite tired of it. She swayed slightly; her head was pounding for some reason. Not to mention, she had thrown up in that bedroom. Whatever she had eaten for breakfast that morning, for she couldn't remember what it was, must not have agreed with her too well.

He stared at the child with pity. She was trembling now, and he realized that his unwavering stare must have been making her nervous. He enclosed his hand around her wasted wrist, but she immediately pulled away. "No," she shook her head, "where am I?" Her eyes were flooded with fear once more. Where did this man wish to take her?

He sighed. No, this was most definitely not going to be easy. "You are in the palace of their majesties, the king and queen of the O.Z." The girl gasped at his words, and her eyes grew wide with shock.

"Oh, Sir, you-you have to believe me-I…I don't know how I got here. Oh, please, please don't be mad. I didn't mean to do anything!" Her words dripped with desperation, her eyes pleading with him. Then a horrified expression crossed her face. "If Mother finds out that I left, she'll kill me! She told me so a while ago." She grasped his arm. "Oh, I beg you, Sir, please don't send me home. I don't want her to hit me again!" She began to sob again, pressing her face against his coat sleeve.

He was unsure of what to do. If it had been DG crying against him, he would've immediately scooped her up into his arms and comforted her until she was laughing in his embrace. But this was not the princess, and she was also ten years older than DG. He was only able to awkwardly put his arm around the girl as she continued to cry.

'Don't worry. You won't be sent home." Not only did he oppose the thought of returning her to an abusive home. He doubted that her mother would be easy to find, knowing well that she would most likely try to disappear after disposing of the girl.

Her tears immediately ceased to fall, and she pulled away from him, looking into his eyes for signs of deceit. "Why not?"

"Because," he paused, contemplating the idea of lying to her, but knew that she had the right to learn the truth, "your mother brought you here to live…and work. This is your new home."

The gleam that entered her eyes, was it more tears? He hoped not. To his dismay, small crystals fell from her eyes in the affirmative, but these ones were different. His mind was plunged in confusion when he realized that they were laced with…happiness? The girl began to laugh, a smile gracing her features. This change in her demeanor greatly surprised him, for he had not been expecting such a reaction in the least. Her laughter continued; it was soft, very childish. It caused a smile to tug at the corners of his mouth. He thought this picture to be very peculiar, like a flicker of light trying to break free from a cloak of darkness.

He retrieved a handkerchief from a pocket on the inside of his coat and handed it to her. She stopped laughing and looked at him, cocking her head to side, unsure of what it was for. "Please, dry your eyes." The child began to dab at her tearstained face. "And wipe your nose as well." She simply nodded her head and removed the snot and dried blood from her nose. When she finished, she returned it to him, and for a moment he wondered what he should do with the dirty cloth. Being a man of cleanliness, he resolved to simply hold it by a corner. He looked at her face; well, it was an improvement. "Much better," he said, smiling.

"What's your name?"

"Ambrose," he stated.

"Ambrose…" She tested the name; it rolled nicely off her tongue. "Is this really my new home?"

He nodded. "Yes, unless you'd rather be turned loose to roam the O.Z. by yourself." Oh, what a horrible thought that was. He didn't even want to imagine one so young at heart wandering around the O.Z. without a clue in the world as to where she was going. He felt an odd sort of relief as she shook her head in disapproval of the idea.

"No, I think I will like it here, but only if you live here too." She smiled, cocking her head to one side in thought. She found that she very much liked this man. He looked nice in the least, with dark brown eyes and short, tightly curled black hair. His face was rather pale, though, but hers was too. He had a clean, proper air about him, he even smelled clean. That was a funny thought. She'd never met anyone before who smelled clean.

He stood and said, "Come along, the queen must be notified that you are awake." He let out a subdued chuckle. "That was why I had gone to find you in the first place, to see if you were awake yet. I didn't anticipate a chase around the palace." He gestured for her to follow him and began to walk down the corridor. Lynette quickly stood and trailed close behind him.

"Ambrose?"

"Yes?" He looked back at her.

"What does "anticipate" mean?" He only laughed.

She was a rather charming girl.