Title: Pebbles Polished, Diamonds Dimmed

Author: strangelittleswirl

Pairing: Cain/DG
Rating: Overall? Probably R, but each chapter will be a bit different.
This Chapter: PG, minor cursing, like really minor.
Summary: DG sets out for the college years, and a secret she's been keeping from a certain Tin Man may come back to haunt her.

DG looked around, nervously. Half the night had gone by and there had not been a single sign of her being followed. Either the boys were getting better, or she was.

Martha came back over, sliding into the seat next to DG. "You are good, honey!"

DG looked up from nursing her beer-just one tonight-confused. "What do you mean?"

The girl cast a martyred glance towards the ceiling. "I mean," she said, twisting DG's head to face the bar. "There is a guy over at the bar asking about you, and you aren't even wearing anything remotely attractive. Meanwhile," and at this she gestured at her front. "I'm in my best Boob Shirt and can't get any. It's sad, really."

DG squinted, trying to make out the figure at the bar. "Think I should?"

One of the other girls, Tomoko, raised her glass. "Damn straight we do!"

"Well then," the petite brunette said, sliding out of the booth, all the while knowing that this was fairly stupid. "Wish me luck."

Getting through the crowd was a bit difficult, but DG finally managed it. She had promised herself the other day she was going to try to get along with it, since what she deeply, secretly wanted was in no way possible.

With one last nervous tuck of hair behind her ear, she approached the man stooped over the counter. She reached out a hand and tapped the broad-shouldered person.

He swivelled around on his stool, and DG stepped back, gaping.

"Wha-why are you here, Cain?" Even in the dark, it only took her an instant to discern it was him.

"Apparently, you cannot be left with just anyone to watch over you. Nice job there, walking over to a complete stranger in a dark place where no one will see that you are missing."

DG tried to protest, but really there was no excuse. She waited for him to continue.

He slipped off of the bar stool with a tired sigh, and put a hand on her upper arm. Even with her jacket on, his fingers reached entirely around her upper bicep.

"Come on," he said firmly, "we're leaving."

The van, with Doc behind the wheel, was waiting in the parking lot, and DG could see the disappointment on his face as they approached. She ducked her head as a feelings of guilt and immaturity washed over her, coating her and settling in like the fine mist currently making its way down. She pulled herself up and across the seat.

"Hi, Doc," she said, lamely.

He didn't answer. DG bit back the tears.

She'd screwed up, and big time. Assuredly, they were on there way back to the O.Z., and long hours spent doing nothing, and she'd go mad until they found a dignitary, who would probably be pink and portly and diaphoretic, to marry her off to. And then she'd be alone and mad.

The princess felt her heart beat a little quicker. She had to get out.

But Cain was smart. He had put her in the seat farthest from the sliding door, and seemed to be trying to take up as much space as possible. DG looked over at him. Something was different- perhaps he had lost weight while he had been gone- because he seemed more wiry than the last time she had seen him.

But now was not the time. This was the time to plan a way to make a run for it. The minute it took them to cross from the van to the door after they parked was her only chance.

Doc put the car in park, and DG swallowed. Cain slid the door open, and got out with a little less grace than she would expect for him to have. He stepped out of the way, hand outstretched automatically to help her out.

She took a few extra seconds to get out, making sure that her feet were evenly beneath her as she put a hand on Cain's shoulder as if she was about to awkwardly maneuver herself out of the car. This calmed him, as it meant she was obviously not going to try anything stupid.

Perhaps Wyatt Cain did not know her very well, she thought wryly.

DG sprang.

Because 'sprang' was the only word for her track meet-worthy leap that landed her in the grass of the front yard, and from there she took off across the vast expanse of manicured green with long strides.

The brunette had made it a significant number of yards before she became aware of the Tin Man pursuing her. It had been so stupid of her to skip gym class to smoke with the auto shop boys under the bleachers. Her lungs burned.

"DG!" came a gruff voice from behind her.

"No!" she screamed as the arms locked around her waist and she was propelled forward. Cain had tackled her. Actually freakin' tackled her.

She was wheezing before she even had more of the breath knocked out of her from the force of hitting the ground. There was an attempt at rolling onto her back to kick him off, but it wasn't working. She struggled against him. There was no way she was going back. None.

She felt and heard the footsteps coming, and she saw the bouncing beams of flashlights across the yard.

"Who the hell is that?" came a nasal voice, followed by a sneeze.

"Get him off of her!" came another.

Wyatt was yanked off of her by the back of his shirt, and DG was drawn up by the burly arms of Grumpy. Dopey was tripping his way towards them.

"Boys!" Doc was crying, but they were too busy trying to identify the would-be assailant.

"I'm a Tin Man, Wyatt Cain," he was trying to explain, and Hugo snorted, looking at the men.

"Right," he said, sarcastically. "Because you're old enough to be a Tin Man. Entry age is 22, genius. And you don't look much older than that."

The brightness of the light from the flashlight blinded Cain, and he winced. DG leaned forward, gaping.

"What the hell happened to you?" she asked, eyes wide.

The younger, but certainly no less severe looking Cain glared.