So close. So close. The idea in his head would soon be here, in real life. Just a few more nuts and bolts and it would be ready. It was a miraculous idea, something that would benefit the entire O.Z. This would be undoubtedly his greatest invention. It would be called the-

"Ambrose?"

The intruding voice interrupted his thought. In a sudden flash of annoyance and anger, he threw his wrench down. The moment of near completion was ruined. What ever this person wanted it had better be worth his time.

"What?" he said, letting his current emotional state seep through his voice. The speaker winced at his tone, but slowly stepped into the cluttered mess of a room. They set a tray down in a some what clear spot.

Ambrose slowly turned to the speaker, realizing far too late who it was. Yolmitaea, the speaker, stood away from him, nervously twisting her hands. A mixture of worry and shock danced across her fine features. His anger quickly subsided at the thought, 'I hurt her.'

"I'm sorry I interrupted, friend, but you didn't come to any meals today. I was… worried. I fear for your health when you get an idea. And I haven't seen you alone for more than a few seconds in weeks."

Ambrose rose and crossed the room to hug her. "I apologize. I do get too caught up, don't I?"

He was the only one who laughed. A frown tugged at his lips. He pulled her chin up from his chest, and was shocked at what he found. She was thin, skin and bones. Her clothes simply hung on her. Her hair fell limply around her face. Storm cloud eyes were dull and surrounded by dark circles. Worry clutched at Ambrose's stomach.

"Yolmitaea… What's wrong?"

"It's the princesses… Something is wrong. Azkadellia is no longer the girl I remember… I fear the prophecy is coming true," Yolmitaea whispered, shivering.

"Shush, my dear friend. Prophecies are just words. People make them true. The princesses know nothing of it. Thus they can choose to make it untrue."

She said nothing, instead burying her head in his chest. He held her closer, wanting so much just to have her happy and healthy once more. His heart swelled with care and love- more than friendly love, the real kind of love. Regret overtook him once more as he realized how horrible he had been to his oldest friend the past few weeks. He resolved to make it up to her.

So he kissed her, tenderly, carefully, and much to her surprise. He had brazenly crossed the line of friendship, and she responded in turn, throwing her arms around his neck and kissing him back. They silently told each other, 'I love you. I always have.'

Glitch awoke from the dream with a strange feeling in his chest. He had never quite experienced it before. It was love, he supposed, for that woman, Yolmitaea. He wondered what happened to her when the Sorceress took over. 'Dead,' he thought, 'or a head case.' He felt sad for a moment, until he noticed Penthia walking in with a large stack of waffles.

"Good morning, Glitch," she chirped, placing the tray of food in front of him. "You fell asleep while the queen was healing. I didn't want to wake you so I had you moved in here."

"Oh. How is Queen Ozma?"

"Much better. She should be back to her regular duties by this afternoon. Eat, you're skin and bones."

Glitch happily obliged, tucking into his pancakes with gusto. Penthia puttered around the room, cleaning, organizing and unpacking until he was finished with his breakfast. She took the tray from him and informed him where the bathroom was. When she left the room, Glitch hopped to the bathroom to take a long needed bath.

Glitch was comfortably in his bath for some time. In fact, he had forgotten six times that he should have gotten out a half hour ago. He was finally about to get out when he heard the main door the healer's suite open.

"Healer Penthia," spoke Queen Ozma's voice. Glitch slid down into the bath, slightly embarrassed for some reason.

"My Queen. Please sit. How are you feeling?" Penthia asked. He heard rustling around.

"I am feeling quite well. Have you seen my advisor around?"

"Oh yes. He spent the night. Poor thing fell asleep. Rather than have him try to wander back to his rooms, I let him stay. Tea?"

"Thank you, dear." There was clinking of china. "I have some questions about your methods to heal Ambrose."

Ambrose. They were talking about him. Glitch didn't particularly like being called Ambrose. Not after seventeen annuals of being called Glitch.

"I have no methods, yet, only theories about possible methods."

"Well, what are those theories?"

"I have heard stories about a clan called Flatheads. Their heads were too flat so they had to carry around their brains in pockets. However, a great deal of magic restored their heads to a normal shape and their brains put where they should be. Perhaps your library would have books on this?"

Flathead? Was he a flathead? Well, perhaps he should get dressed and find out.

"I have heard stories about that clan. You shall find what you need in the Royal Library… Healer Penthia?"

"Yes, Queen Ozma?"

"Please do be careful with Ambrose. Not only because he was my most trusted advisor, but also because he is my dearest friend, and my daughter's dearest friend."

Glitch paused in his hurried dressing. It always felt good to be loved. He finished up buttoning the white shirt, tucked it in, and threw on the vest undone. He combed out his curls (which had returned after several good baths and DG attacking them with all sorts of brushes and products) and stepped out into the living room.

"My Queen," he said with a flourished bow. He heard stifled laughter in return.

"You missed her by a minute, Glitch," DG laughed, hugging her friend. Glitch, confused but happy at the sight of DG, returned the hug. "I think I found your old lab last night. The Sorceress put some wicked spells on it but Az and I think we've worked most of them out."

"That's great!" Glitch said. "Maybe I'll remember something!"

"I know. Let's go!" DG exclaimed pulling him through the door with out giving the bemused healer a proper thank you.

PLEASE R&R