Disclaimer: I do not own Tin Man or its characters.
All I Want for Christmas
It was nearing Christmas again in the O.Z. The tradition of giving gifts and singing carols was a fairly new one, introduced by Ahamo during his first year as king. It was his favorite holiday and he felt everyone, on Earth and in the Outer Zone should celebrate it.
The Royal Court had moved back up to the Northern Palace for the season. The palace had been cleaned and outrageously decorated after its fifteen annuals of neglect. There was a tree in every room, mistletoe in every doorway, and wreaths and garlands were hung all about. Everyone of the palace; the queen and king, the princesses, the servants, were running about busy with the preparations of the coming holiday and feast.
Most everyone was busy that is.
Wyatt Cain was one of the few people who were not busy in the palace. Everything of his was taken care of; his duties as head Tin Man in Central City were being taken care of by his son while he was away, most of the gifts he had prepared were already wrapped and there was nothing he could help with. And thus, frankly, he was bored.
And so the Tin Man found himself wandering down what was now a very familiar hallway. He walked without thinking much of where he was going. He didn't need to, he had been this way so often in the past few days that his feet knew exactly where they were going. And Cain would have kept on like this, if not for an explosion and smoke coming from the door that was his destination.
Immediately he broke into a run and swung open the door, forced to step back when he was assaulted by dark gray smoke. "Glitch! You in there?" he called into the room.
"Yep, right here, Cain." A slumped, coughing figure stumbled out of the smoke, grabbing onto the doorframe for support. "And it's Ambrose, remember?" The scientist smiled, his face and front rather charred.
"Right." There was no way Cain would ever remember his friend's new (rather, old) name. "Are you alright? What happened here?" he asked. Ambrose looked all right and, other than being a little black, he didn't seem seriously hurt.
"Oh, I'm fine." The advisor's grin widened in seeing the poorly masked concern on his friend's face. "One of my inventions just blew up in my face," he scoffed, "Literally. I told Her Majesty that isn't wasn't a good idea to put a tree in my lab. The darn thing's a fire hazard."
Cain smirked back. "Anyone with half a brain would know that," he joked.
Ambrose pursed his lips, trying to hide his amusement. "Ha ha, Cain, very funny. Oh! But now that you're here, you can help me clean up!"
"Uh, actually I-" But before the Tin Man could finish his protest, the advisor grabbed his arm and cut him off.
"You still owe me one, remember?"
Oh, right. That. "Fine," Cain sighed and allowed himself be dragged into the room. "But after this, consider my debt paid."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It took the two a full two hours to clean the lab. Bottles had been broken, half-finished inventions had been blown off shelves, and sketches were strewn about the floor. Not to mention the scorch mark left on the table when the invention (whatever it was) had blown up. The scorch mark that Ambrose would not let Cain stop scrubbing until all of it was gone. Who knew the man could be such a slave diver when he had his entire brain?
Finally, when the lab was cleaned to Ambrose's liking, Cain leaned against the wall, sliding down until he was sitting on the floor. "So, Cain," Ambrose began as he sat down next to the Tin Man. "What is it you want for Christmas?"
The blond man shrugged. "Nothing."
The advisor ran his hand through his still curly, messy hair (he decided he liked it better this way), rolling his eyes slightly. "Come on, there must be something." He looked at the other man pointedly.
Cain only shrugged again. "There's nothing I need right now."
"But, Cain!" Ambrose cried exasperatedly. "It's not about what youneed. Right now it's about what you want."
"Well, I don't think there's anything I want either," the Tin Man countered, standing up from the floor. "I need to go check on the guards. I'll see you later, Gli- Ambrose."
The scientist frowned as his friend left, still not rising from the floor. Why was the Tin Man so hard to get through to?
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"He's still being stubborn, isn't he?"
Ambrose glanced behind him although he knew very well who it was. "I just don't know what do to about him, DG. The man's skull is so thick, I wouldn't be surprised if he actually was made of tin."
"Maybe he just needs an extra push?" the princess suggested.
"But, how?"
"Well, I don't know. Can't you come up with something, oh brilliant advisor?" DG curtsied mockingly.
"Oh, and a lot of help you are, great and wonderful princess," Ambrose joked back.
The young woman placed a hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "I'm sure you'll find something to give Cain for Christmas. And I'm sure he'll love it."
The scientist sighed, leaning against the balcony overlooking the frozen lake. "Well, he's sure not making it easy for me."
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
"Hey, DG."
"Yeah, Cain?"
"Could… could you help me with something?" The Tin Man asked hesitantly.
"Sure." She motioned for him to follow her and they began to walk. "What is it?"
"I… I don't know what to get Glitch for Christmas." Cain finally admitted.
"You mean Ambrose?"
"Yeah, Ambrose." He would never get used to that name. "So, any ideas?"
"Well," DG contemplated, looking up at the magical lights strung through the halls of the palace. "He likes to dance."
Cain gave her a pointed look. "Yeah, but what am I supposed to do with that? Get him dancing shoes?"
The princess shook her head. "No. He already has enough of those."
"Then what?"
DG shrugged. "Just do whatever you think he'll appreciate most."
"But what's that?" The man urged, getting impatient.
"Oh, I think you can think of something." Before Cain could say anything in response, DG continued. "And, now, if you don't mind, I have to go talk to my mom. Good luck with that present." And so she walked away, leaving the Tin Man standing in the hallway, a look of realization on his face.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
Finally, it was the long awaited Christmas Eve. The people of the Northern Palace were relaxing at last, the Christmas preparations were done and all the gifts were wrapped. Well, almost everyone was relaxing that is.
Ambrose was not relaxed. Ambrose was concerned. In fact, he was more than concerned. Ambrose was close to freaking out. It was Christmas Eve and he still didn't have a present for Cain.
He had approached the Tin Man on more than one occasion after the laboratory explosion, but every time the answer was the same. "I don't need any material things" was what the man always said and it bothered Ambrose to no end.
And thus, Christmas Eve found the inventor pacing in his lab, contemplating what to get his best friend. He didn't want material things? What was that supposed to mean? And what, then, was Ambrose supposed to get him? Granted, he knew what he would like to do for [to Cain for Christmas, but he didn't think the Tin Man would appreciate it.
Because, you see, Ambrose had harbored what he was certain were unreciprocated feelings towards his friend ever since he had saved the man from hypothermia. But what could be done about it? The inventor did not want to drive Cain away by telling him, so the feelings were kept to himself. Though, he had some strange feeling that somehow, DG knew. Not that he was about to ask. The girl knew a lot more than people gave her credit for.
But, anyway, back to business. Ambrose had already gone to DG for guidance, but she hadn't been much help. He chuckled, finding it ironic that he, the Royal Advisor, had gone to get advice from the one he was supposed to be advising. And he couldn't very well ask Cain again, because he'd just say the same thing that he always said.
Ambrose sighed, slumping on a stool and running a hand through his scraggly hair. Maybe he would have to tell Cain he didn't get him anything. The advisor perked up. Yes, that's what he would do. He would tell the Tin Man that it was his own fault he didn't get a present because he was being so difficult. That since he gave Ambrose such a hard time, he didn't even deserve a present. Yes, this idea was perfect. He immediately jumped up, knocking the stool over in the process and ran out of the room to find the Tin Man.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
It was getting late and Ambrose still hadn't found Cain. He had checked in all the usual places, the courtyard, the library, his room, anywhere the advisor could think of. Not only that, but the Tin Man hadn't shown up to dinner. The advisor found it very strange indeed.
After dinner, he finally thought to ask someone on his friend's whereabouts.
"DG? Have you seen Cain?"
"Cain?" The princess thought a moment. "Oh, right! He told me to tell you to meet him in the ballroom after dinner."
"Really? The ballroom? Well, that's strange." After a moment, he added, "You know, for someone who was able to recall hidden childhood memories, you're not very good at remembering things."
"Oh, like you're any better," DG retorted, but Ambrose was already rushing down the hall towards the ballroom.
-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-.-
The ballroom was dark when Ambrose opened the door, save for a single spotlight that was shining on a well-dressed man in the middle of the room. Wait, was that-?
All the lights in the ballroom suddenly turned on and music began to play, though Ambrose couldn't tell where it came from. Not that he gave the music much thought, because standing in the middle of the room was none other than Cain.
The Tin Man bowed and smirked up at his friend, extending a hand. "You wanna dance?"
Ambrose smiled back and took the offered hand. "Only if you lead."
And so, they danced. Faster and slower, they spun and stepped in time to the music. They waltzed, tangoed and even danced a salsa. Neither of them talked, they just danced, enraptured by the other's presence.
"So," Ambrose began, finally breaking the silence as Cain lowered him into a dip, "Did you ever think of what you wanted for Christmas?"
"I thought it was obvious." The music was ending and a new song started up, but neither of them seemed to notice. No, instead of starting a new dance, the Tin Man pulled the advisor back up to his feet and into a kiss.
Ambrose all but melted. If Cain hadn't been holding him, he probably would have fallen over. From what he could remember, it was unlike any kiss he had received in the past. This was by far the best and, of course, it was Cain he was kissing. Cain, the apparently not heartless Tin Man.His Tin Man.
Cain pulled away, too soon for the advisor's liking, and stared into his eyes. "All I've wanted for Christmas is-"
"Is me?" Ambrose finished for him, eyes sparkling. "I never knew you were so corny, Cain."
The Tin Man smirked. "Shut it, headcase." And before the other man could retort, Cain sealed his lips with another kiss.
Fin