A/N: Oops, I did it again. Like/Dislike? I'm thinking of continuing these as a series of connected one-shots, I'd love your input lovely readers, and I'd LOVE prompts and what not. What do YOU want?

Disclaimer: So not mine.

Day the First

DG limped away from her second fighting lesson, hunched over like a little old lady, clutching the small of her back and struggling not to whimper as her pulled hamstring voice its protest loudly. She struggled to look dignified as she shuffled back to her suite, making little noises of pain every time some new, unheard from before part of her anatomy twinged or spasmed. Having previously thought she was in somewhat decent shape, she now realized she was so far out of shape that she might as well be a rhombus. As Glitch guided her through her stretches and then the warm-up, DG had been feeling in fine form, only a little less stretchy than her instructor seemingly expected her to be. When they had moved on to learning how to fall properly, how to maintain guard, how to move her feet, DG had found herself getting impatient and wanting to move on to the fun stuff, like flying kicks and back flips. She wanted to be a ninja-princess, at heart.

The style of fighting Glitch was teaching her was something he thought was more geared to her size and abilities, and was sneaky, fast and effective, he had told her. He was teaching her pressure points, and how to use them to disarm her opponents and bring them down before any actual fighting took place.

"Doll," he had said. "If you want to fight, you have to learn to make the first hit count, make the first punch the last one. Because Ozma help us if your opponent gets the chance to hit you back."

A little nonplussed with his (possibly very accurate) assessment of her ability to actually trade punches with someone who would no doubt be bigger, stronger and meaner than she was, DG had thrown herself into his lesson with vigour. She concentrated on her footwork, on making herself a moving target. She made sure to keep her guard up and not give Glitch an opening to give her a mock tap on the chin whenever she gave him an opening.

And now, oh God, now all she wanted was the hottest bath anyone had ever taken just shy of broiling. One hour at 450 and voila! Tender, fall off the bone Princess.

The hardest part of taking fighting lessons with Glitch, other than the strained muscles and general ouchies when she misjudged a move or fell wrong, was that they had to be secret. Her mother would not take kindly to the idea of her learning hand-to-hand combat, just like she would be abhorred to know that Cain had taught her how to shoot at bottles in the woods in the summer.

DG had always been of the mind that words were better than bullets, but when it came down to it, she was a walking trouble magnet, and she wanted to know how to defend herself if necessary, instead of relying on her friends or the guard to rescue her. She didn't want to play the role of damsel in distress anymore. Thus, she had brokered a deal with Glitch for fighting lessons, and had thrown herself whole-heartedly into the tedious lessons on magic with tutor, learning to control her power.

But now, as she hobbled and winced, shuffled and grimaced her way down the hall, she was beginning to think she had made a tactical error. Glitch could be a task-master when he put half his mind to it, and now she was paying for it. Making it to her suite, she unlocked the door and made a beeline for the bathroom, drawing a full tub of steaming hot water and sliding cautiously into it, noting that it made her skin flush rosy almost immediately from the heat. She sighed and willed clenched muscles to relax, gingerly stretching the ones that were pulled or strained. DG stayed in the tub until it began to cool before she got out.

While the tub helped some, DG had a fitful night's sleep, nearly tearing up whenever her lower back ached or her hamstring twanged like an out of tune harp. She was in pure agony, and the worst part was she had to sneak herself down to the old barracks the next morning to repeat the entire torturous process all over again. What she wouldn't give for a massage right now. Full body. With oil. And rough, calloused fingers digging into every aching muscle, gliding down, slick with oil, to her thighs and then-

Dangerous territory DG, you know where those thoughts lead to.

But it was pointless, almost all of her thoughts at some point led her to the same place. It didn't matter if she was puzzling through the logistics of magical nodes, or memorizing the names of foreign envoys, somehow each thought was a thread in some giant spider web inside her mind, and right at the center of that web was Wyatt Cain. Her tin man.

DG groaned and flopped onto her side, then instantly regretted the move as her entire back flared with pain. She absently tried to give herself a one-handed, awkward massage, digging into her lower back with her thumb as she puzzled the mystery that was Cain. It had been three months since the Summer House, when the Royal Family, her friends, and the retinue had vacationed in Finaqua. Three month since DG had stumbled onto a very naked Cain in the lake, and three months since Cain had touched her in ways that even now made her whole body tingle in reaction, just at the memory. It had also been three months since Cain had mentioned their impromptu tryst, mostly because soon after the heat wave broke, they had returned to the Palace proper and Cain had gone back to Central City, back to his job hunting down the few remaining longcoats, and back to his own apartment in the city.

It wasn't as if Cain had completely dismissed her after their- rendezvous?- it was just that there had been few private moments for them to discuss it. It was like some romance novel worthy secret affair, only DG was pretty sure that in those novels, the heroine probably actually got laid. The lack of opportunity for the two to talk, and the fact that Cain had immediately returned to work as soon as they got back from Finaqua had her stomach twisted with a horrible, creeping sort of doubt. Like maybe the whole thing had been a one-off, some kind of fling, and Cain really didn't feel that way about her. Or maybe she had done something wrong, had not been what he expected in a lover, and he had been turned off. It was enough to be a serious kick to her self-esteem, and the lingering doubts kept her from being her normal, tactless, bold self and just marching right up to the tin man and demanding he declare his feelings for her. Instead, she made due with fragments of heated memories and a few mementos of the trip. In the trunk at the foot of her bed, buried under quilts and placed amongst her most cherished possessions (letters from her nuture units, who had been repaired after the witch had been exorcised, her clothes from the Otherside, an old fashioned tintype photo of her family from before she was hidden away in Kansas, the doll she had played with when she was little, a small painting Ahamo and she had worked on together as a bonding ritual, and countless little scraps of memory and time) were her sketches of Cain. Her 'Cain period' had been a wild ride, and she found herself digging up the sketches frequently to trace over the long, lean muscles of the tin man, feeling naughty while she did so.

Knowing now that Cain had been aware of her presence the whole time she had hid herself away in the woods, sketching him frantically, trying to capture the essence and loveliness of the man who could ignite her with a look, made her blush still. And the fact that he was aware that she had been drawing him, in dishabille, and therefore was aware that she had her own special copy of Playgirl featuring nothing but a tan and toned tin man, was even more horrifying. But she couldn't force herself to get rid of the evidence of her obsession. What if she never got to see the sight again? DG wanted these memories, wanted proof.

Finally sleep overtook DG, and she fell into a night of heated and confusing dreams.

Day the Second

"There are several different types of pressure points, doll. There are the ones for pain, blood pressure, places you can break if you hit just right, like the floating ribs, hyper-extension points, concussion and energy points. We're going to learn all of them. I think," Glitch had told her, and then he had mapped out on an old surgeon's dummy all of the different points using pink stickers, which had made DG gleeful.

Now the dummy was hanging from the rafters from a rope tied around its waist, and DG was ducking and circling, following barks from a disturbingly disciplined Glitch as he had her circle in to slam the heel of her palm into a nose, or a closed-fist punch to the occipital ridge at the base of her dummy's- err opponent's-skull.

After at least an hour of this, with several breaks so DG could catch her breath and shake her head clear of the "Watch your dancing, doll!" calls she often got, Glitch had DG do wind sprints to pick up her cardio. They finished off with some fancy leg lifts, trying to get DG more flexible, and then a long bout of stretching, which had DG's already aching body screaming in agony.

When finally Glitch dismissed her, DG actually got teary with relief, gave the surprised man a kiss on the cheek and hobbled out of the old barracks. While she was trudging back, holding her lower back and trying not to breathe too hard lest she set her chest muscles off again, she came upon a most welcome visitor making his way in through out of the garden doors. Forgetting all of her pain for a moment, she raced over to the tin man, smoking a white cheroot while he leaned up against the brick wall. She collided into his chest, snuggling into his waiting arms, which had opened the minute he spotted her dead run.

"Cain! Hi! You're smoking!" She said by way of greeting, still trying to catch her breath.

"Hi kid, I am, you're sweaty," he answered, hugging her tighter none the less.

"I'll answer your question if you answer mine," DG offered, disturbed that she liked the old stogie smell that mixed in with his ever present smell of leather, soft musk, sun-warmed skin and a woodsy undertone.

"There was a question in there somewhere?" Cain teased, and gave her a squeeze that made her sore back muscles protest loudly and DG gave a loud gasp and went rigid in Cain's arms. "Darlin'? What's wrong? Are you hurt?"

DG only nodded, fighting back tears as her whole back began to spasm. Good thing he didn't squeeze my ass, this hurts.

Relaxing his hold on her, and dropping his cheroot to the ground, Cain's fingers slid down her back slowly, probing gently. Every time she tensed, he moved on to a new spot. Finally he grew impatient with her shirt and his hands slipped under the hem of the loose blouse to run warm fingers over her lower back. "Kid, you're so worked up, your knots have knots on 'em."

DG was too busy concentrating on his warm fingers on her cool skin and the goosebumps that were left in their wake to do more than make a faint noise of agreement. "I'm learning how to fight, I guess I'm in terrible shape."f

"You're learnin' to what? From who?" Cain asked, his voice going low with some undirected warning.

"Glitch."

Suddenly the tin man began to chuckle, his body vibrating beneath her fingers and against her cheek buried in his chest. "What's so funny about that?" She asked, a little offended, but unsure of who to be offended on behalf of.

"Well it explains why all the palace staff thinks you and the headcase are havin' a tryst," Cain informed her with a bark of laughter. "You don't know the things that went through my head when the gardener told me you were having a torrid affair with the Royal Advisor."

DG tried to hold onto her offended airs, but soon enough she broke down and began to laugh along with Cain, imagining it. "Yes, it's forbidden, but we could not resist. We run off to the old barracks each morning at the crack of dawn to make taboo love, and we cry over the unfairness of our Shakespearean tragedy, that we cannot declare our feelings to the world," DG cried passionately.

Cain chuckled again and somehow his fingers worked their way into her hair. "Alright, enough of the play actin', I don't want to have to picture you going at it with Glitch. That's enough fodder for nightmares for years."

DG nodded, then winced as even that small movement made her shoulders ache. "So why were you smoking?"

"My boy got engaged," he offered by way of explanation, his blue eyes lighting up with real joy and happiness. "Found himself a pretty young thing who runs patrols down by the red light district in Central City. She's tough as nails, and she'll do him good."

"Jeb's getting married? Oh Cain, that's wonderful news! I'm sorry I made you put out your cigar," she declared happily, and leaned up to give him a congratulatory kiss on the cheek.

It was only intended to be a platonic kiss, something shared among friends, but somehow his cheek turned and her lips slid right on down to his and suddenly there was nothing platonic about it. His mouth was hot and greedy against hers, and when she panted, he took that as an invitation and slid his tongue in to dance with hers. Kissing Cain was wonderful, fabulous, knee-shaking stuff. It made her whole body want to melt into a gooey puddle of bliss, or ignite into a blaze of pure arousal, both at the same time. He moaned against her mouth and pulled her closer to him, and DG was more than happy to comply.

When they broke for air, Cain murmured against her cheek. "Let's put an end to those rumours, shall we?"

DG gave a breathy laugh and kissed a line down his jaw. "Right here?"

"Preferably in front of the gardener," Cain clarified.

He tugged her even closer, molding her body to his, but when his hand tugged at the small of her back DG made a noise that was definitely not one of pleasure and gripped at his coat lapels. "Ow!"

Cain was quick to make amends. "I'm sorry, darlin', I forgot about your back."

DG was mournful, as well as in screaming agony. There was no way this was going to turn into the reunion she had planned for with her body yelping every time Cain laid hands on her. "I think we have to leave the chambermaids with their torrid tales of Glitch and I at least another day, I think my muscles are mutinying. Arr."

Cain, to his credit, did not sigh or make any sign he was disappointed, only ran his fingers lightly down her arms. "Well, I'm here for a while anyways, no sense in rushing. C'mon, I'll walk you to the Healer's so you can get yourself worked on."

DG shook her head gingerly, wary of setting of new bouts of pain. "No, I'm not going to the Healer for some sore muscles. I'll just have a hot bath."

"Kid, this is more than sore muscles, you nearly screamed when I touched you," Cain censured, guiding her toward the door.

"I'll be fine, Cain," DG warned, trying to walk straight instead of hunched over like she really wanted to. Pride demanded that she not show how much she was indeed hurting.

Cain sighed and shook his head. "You are stubborn as the day is long, kid."

"It's one of my more charming qualities, I think."

Together they walked, Cain with his arm looped lightly around DG's waist like he was afraid she was going to fall over, toward DG's suite. DG wondered when she was going to get the courage to ask Cain why he had all but dropped off the face of the planet after Finaqua, but feared the answer. Finally they made it to her suite, Cain taking note of her pace and following it, even though his normal pace was something much faster. At her door, things got uncomfortable as Cain hovered, looking awkward, and DG tapped a little rhythm on the doorknob with her key, wondering if there was any moment more opportune than this to ask him the questions she'd dealt with each waking moment since he'd left.

"Well kid, I guess-" Cain began before she interrupted him the best way she knew how. DG slammed her lips over his and was surprised to hear herself growl against his mouth.

"You were supposed to stick around after," she murmured angrily against his lips. "You weren't supposed to just disappear and leave me wondering if I was just some experiment."

"What?" Cain breathed, his tongue tracing the bow of her lips.

DG pulled back, suddenly incensed and jammed her key in the lock and twisted it fiercely. She took immense satisfaction on slamming the door in his face. She rested her aching back against the wood and listened as Cain swore on the other side. "And congratulations on the engagement!" She yelled through the wood.

"I didn't know you wanted me to stick around!" He called through the door, and the handle jiggled before she slapped the lock down just in time to keep him from opening the door.

DG rolled her eyes and dragged herself off to the bathroom while Cain went off on a confused tirade behind her locked door. Somehow, this time, a hot tub did nothing for her. Probably because she was madder than hell and was so tense she was just making things worse. By the time she exited the bathroom, all noise had ceased beyond the door and she was pretty sure Cain had left.

Great DG, you sure turned that into a steaming pile of something. If you thought you couldn't drive Cain any further away, you just drove him out of the O.Z. with that temper tantrum.

And, indeed, DG didn't see Cain for the rest of the day.

Day the Third

This time, their lesson had to be cut short as DG was in so much agony, and stiffer than roadkill, that she could barely manage standing straight and upright, no less attack a moving target.

"Princess, go see the Healer," Glitch had ordered. "You can't dance with knots in the laces of your dancing shoes."

While DG had mentally worked over that cryptic piece of analogy, she staggered like a drunk person through the garden paths to the side entrance once more, noting sadly that her favourite tin man was not lounging by the door, waiting for her. How she made it up to her room with her whole body twinging and yelping and generally not having it was a mystery to her. But when she made it to her hallway, a familiar presence was hovering outside her door, holding a bouquet of blue forget me nots and an apologetic look.

"How'd you know those were my favourites?" DG asked him, holding a hand out to receive the gift.

"I asked the gardener, he's my source," Cain replied with a twist of his lips. "He was a little surprised when I told him who I was shoppin' flowers for."

"Great, now he thinks I'm a hussy," DG said wryly, bringing the bouquet up to inhale their pleasant musk. "Aren't you all dressed up. Got a hot date?"

Cain quirked an eyebrow as he decoded her Otherside speak, and she took the moment to study him. He was wearing a light blue button up shirt, with the sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and black slacks with glossy black shoes. He looked delicious, and DG was pretty sure she was already halfway to forgiving him, knowing how much he hated to dress up.

"If a hot date means courtin', then yes. I'm courtin' you," Cain murmured slowly, and swept in close to plant a chaste kiss on her cheek. "I'm also here to apologize. I shouldn't have up and disappeared on you, but I just thought I was bein' stupid to think I was anywhere near the top of your list of suitors and it would just end painful for me if I stuck around and waited to watch you galavantin' with someone who wasn't me."

DG felt her heart warm a little and she returned his kiss with a little more fervour before she pulled back. "I have no 'suitors', and if I did, none of them could contend with you, Mr. Cain."

Cain's face brightened noticeably, and his blue eyes lightened even more. "It's Wyatt," he reminded her huskily.

DG giggled and then winced and grabbed at her lower back. "I feel like someone's doing road construction on my spine."

"Ah, then part two of my apology is in my pocket," Cain announced. "I knew you'd be too stubborn to visit the healer."

"Are you kidding? That woman scares me more than the witch did. She'd probably break my finger to take my mind off my back pain. And I really want to make an inappropriate joke about what's in your pocket now."

Cain waited patiently, but DG just shook her head. "Trust me, you wouldn't get it, or you would and that would be worse."

The tin man dug around in his trouser pocket and finally pulled out a stumpy blue vial that fit in his fist. "This is Viewer oil. It's for muscle aches, and it contains a small amount of the magic that Viewer's use to heal."

DG actually got emotional to the point of holding back tears. "Are you offering me a back rub?"

"That was the plan," Cain answered, a little disturbed by her waterworks at the mention of a massage. "But if you don't want me to..."

"Oh God, I want, I want!" DG cried, and hurriedly unlocked her door and nearly dragged Cain in through it. She led them straight to the bedroom and gingerly sat on her bed.

"You're gonna need to remove some clothin' darlin'. This stuff is messy at the best of times," Cain informed her.

Most days, DG would be shy at the thought of removing her clothes in front of Wyatt Cain. Even if one hot day in August, she'd given him the full monty. Today was not most days. She was in so much pain that if one of the stipulations of this massage involved doing a strip tease, she would have done it with bells on. With much wincing, DG divested herself of all of her clothing, not even bothering to cover herself up or act modest, and she crawled onto the bed, flopping face down in the covers and trying to lay in a way that didn't make any particular part of her anatomy hurt worse than the others.

She felt Cain move to sit on the bed as the mattress depressed and after a moment of nothing, she craned her head around to see what he was doing. Cain was working the little vial between his palms. "Whatcha doin'?" She asked, the position of her face in the mattress muffling her words slightly.

"Warming the oil, you don't want this cold," he explained, and then uncorked the vial.

DG shifted so that her face was once again solidly connected with the plush mattress and then the first drizzle of warm oil ran down her spine and she made a faintly surprised noise at the heat. Cain used his still dry hands to move her long curls to the side and then he laid his hands on her. Even just the combined warmth of his capable hands and the oil was enough to make DG moan, but when he started to massage, gingerly working the knots in her back with his palms and fingers, DG became convinced he had magic fingers. When he kneaded a particularly nasty knot in her lower back, DG bit her lip and waited for it to stop hurting before it relaxed. Soon, she was reduced to little more than sensation, blissful and content as Cain soothed her aching body by touch alone.

When his fingers ghosted over her spine, she whimpered. When his palms slid over the swell of her ass, she shivered delightedly. When he drizzled a line of oil down the backs of her thighs, she went white hot with lust. He diligently worked out the knots in her legs before his touch went gentle again and he ran his blunt fingernails and made patterns in the oil on her thighs. DG literally purred when he scrapped the inside of her thigh with his thumbs, and Cain made a faint noise of arousal himself. Without warning him, DG flipped herself over, uncaring whether she was messing her bed coverlet with the oil, only knowing she was no longer sore, and had moved onto something else entirely.

"Other side?" She asked coyly, looking at him from underneath her lashes.

"Ozma, kid. Do you know what you're doing to me?" Cain muttered darkly, his pupils blown wide and his hands twitching with the urge to touch her.

"Shut up and touch me, Wyatt," DG ordered, wriggling her hips provocatively.

Cain made a noise that sounded much like he was swallowing his tongue and then his oil-slicked fingers slid over the curve of her hip. He let his fingers dance over her belly and dipped a finger in her navel, making her squirm. He traced a love letter over her ribs, brushing the undersides of her breasts. Finally DG ran out of patience and she grabbed his wrists and tugged his hands up to her breasts. When he cupped them in his hands, DG arched her back unconsciously and then waited for the pain to flare up. When it didn't, she looked at Cain wide-eyed.

"It doesn't hurt anymore!" She declared with amazement.

"Then I'm assumin' my apology is accepted?" Cain asked throatily.

"Oh, God yes."

Cain's eyes went simultaneously dark and heated as he met her gaze and he deliberately held it as he leaned forward to flick her right nipple, which instantly went taut and made her gasp with wicked delight. He ran his fingers in ever decreasing circles around her left nipple before he drew a blunt nail over it and DG made a noise she was pretty sure only dogs could hear. He lavished attention on her breasts, keeping her gaze as he teased her, and when he bent to run the very tip of his tongue around each taut nipple. Without thought, DG cupped his head, tugging at his short hair to keep him in place. The sensation of his low, husky chuckle vibrating against her sensitive breasts made her quiver, and noticing her reaction he blew a hot breath against her skin and hummed when he took her right nipple in his mouth. She whimpered and mewed, both twisting away from and arching into his tricky mouth.

"Wyatt," she moaned, not quite sure what words she intended to come after her witty segue.

Cain crawled up her body until she was pinned between his arms and pressed his mouth to hers, and her returning kiss was hot and needy. She was delighted to note that his breath was coming heavy and laboured, so she wasn't the only one getting hot and heavy here. Breaking the kiss, DG reached out a hand to fist it in the front of Cain's dress shirt, tugging at the silky blue material impatiently. "Too much clothing," she whined.

He managed a laugh and that quirky smile he seemed to save only for her and shrugged. "What're you gonna do about it, kid?"

DG growled playfully and attacked the buttons on his shirt, managing to undo most of them save for one tricky one in the very middle, which she considered using her teeth on before he batted her hands away and managed to pop the button open. Admiring the expanse of toned, lightly hairy chest, DG took a moment to savour the sight before she leaned up to slide the shirt off his shoulders, letting Cain deal with pulling his arms out of the sleeves. When he was partially undressed, DG let her fingers roam across bare skin from his collar bone down to his flat stomach, stopping here and there at interesting landmarks, like the light birthmark on his ribcage, a patch of skin lighter than the rest of him, or to tangle her fingers in his chest hair, or to run her thumb along the ridge of hip visible above his pants. She noted the places that had him groaning, and the places where he shivered and made a choked laughing noise where he was ticklish (as blackmail material for later).

DG mapped out Cain's torso with her fingers, until she thought she could close her eyes and pinpoint each scar, each mark, each muscle. She leaned up to press an open mouthed kiss to the scar on his bicep, where he had taken a bullet the night of the eclipse, and ran her tongue over it as if to soothe old hurts. Cain sighed and the minute she lifted her head he tangled his hands in her curls and pulled her to his chest, her breasts crushed against his hot skin making something uncurl deep in her belly, and he kissed her insensible. When she finally had to pull back to catch her breath, Cain ran his hands down her sides and gripped her hips, hoisting her up in a move that made her yelp in surprise before he readjusted the pair of them so that she was straddling his thighs.

He continued their kiss where it had left off, biting and sucking at her lower lip until her eyes drifted closed. The minute her eyes were off his a wandering hand swept along her inner thigh and slicked across her core, and her eyes shot open with a cry as Cain gave her a cocky smirk, lifting his slick fingers.

"Someone's enjoyin' herself," Cain teased.

DG wasn't sure she liked this new teasing, cocky, bold Cain. She decided two could play that game, and leaned in close to run her tongue along the shell of his ear, following it with a puff of hot breath that made him shudder. "I'm wet, Cain, and it's all for you."

She felt Cain shift between her thighs, and suddenly he was pressing his very present erection against her, and he growled audibly. "Ozma, kid!"

DG smiled against Cain's throat, and on impulse she leaned in to nip and suck at his throat, which had the tin man bucking underneath her. She leaned back to admire her handiwork.

I just gave Wyatt Cain a hickey, she thought with a giggle.

"This ain't funny," Cain warned hoarsely, and with that he pinned her hips and gave a very deliberate thrust of his hips, having lined them up perfectly and making DG's eyes go wide.

Uhn.

"Not so funny, no," DG breathed, realizing the natural progression of their playing, which had her melting at her very center with a combination of heat and a slight anxiety. She was going to screw Cain. Her best friend. The man she maybe, possibly, probably loved.

Cain seemed to realize the direction of her thoughts and his hands came up to cup her face, and he tugged until their blue eyes met and held. "We can stop this right now, darlin'. I would never hold it against you."

DG's heart shattered at the solemnity of Cain's statement, as well as the very strong affection he was regarding her with. She mirrored his position and gripped his chin with her own smaller hands and took a deep breath to center herself. "Make love to me, Wyatt."

He regarded her seriously for a minute, but the darkness of his pupils was spreading, and she almost looked away from the intensity in his eyes, but didn't. Cain seemed to have a thing with eye-contact.

"I can do that," he muttered hoarsely, swallowing thickly and helping her off his lap so he could stand and divest himself of the last piece of clothing that kept him from her watchful eyes. She was tickled pink to note that Cain wasn't wearing underwear, and she wondered if he always went commando before her brain registered the impossibly beautiful sight of Cain, fully naked. Her drawings hadn't done him justice, he was better than charcoal on a page, he was all long lines and taut muscles, and he was perfect in her eyes.

He let her admire him for a moment, unselfconscious in his skin, and then she raised a hand to beckon him to her bed. Cain crawled over to her, draping himself over her, and briefly letting them revel in the feeling of skin on skin, not moving. His steely blue eyes just gazed into hers, before he leaned over to press a hot kiss to her throat. DG spread her thighs for him, and he centered himself between them, moving one hand from where he had pinned her sides between them to run his hand down her thigh and pull it up to tuck it against his hip. Then with a swivel of his hips he was pressed against her, and DG's heart stuttered in her chest at the sensation. He paused there, just running his fingers along her thigh, before DG finally bucked her hips up with impatience and made a small noise.

"Wyatt, please," she begged unashamedly.

Cain groaned and began to sink into her, inch by torturous inch until DG was sure she was going to shatter and break with the sensory overload. Finally he was fully seated in her, and he rested his forehead against hers while they both took shaky, uneven breaths.

"Gonna have to go slow," he murmured. "It's been awhile since I pleasured a lady."

DG nearly laughed. "Good thing I'm no lady."

Cain groaned and shifted his hips, making her gasp at the shudder it set off deep within her, as if punishing her. "Don't say that."

DG breathed an apology and experimentally moved her own hips, feeling that same shudder within, forcing another moan out of the tin man. Finally Cain seemed to have caught on to her need for more, and he withdrew almost completely, leaving her aching and empty before he thrust forward, canting his hips at just the right angle to hit that sweet spot inside her that had her gripping his hips and biting her tongue.

"Do that again," DG hissed, digging her fingernails into his hips as if to guide him.

Cain gave a dry laugh and pulled back only to slam into her again, this time even deeper. As he picked up his pace, DG began to move her hips in an unconscious rhythm to match his, lifting her hips to meet his thrusts and revelling in the sound of skin hitting slick skin, of the pants and moans and uneven breaths. At one point Cain halted in his rhythm, almost making her scream with frustration as he reached up and behind her and pulled a pillow from the top of the bed. He encouraged her to raise her hips and stuffed it under her in a way that canted her hips up toward him. Then Cain lifted one of her legs and hooked it over his shoulder before he began to love her again. At first he went deep and slow, his thrusts making her entire body clench and release in a delicious way that made her feel like something inside her was building to a beautiful crescendo. When she tentatively clenched her inner muscles around him, Cain uttered a dark oath and suddenly he was slamming into her frantically. The fast, hard rhythm made that crescendo building in her with a speed and intensity that frightened her, and she nearly begged Cain to stop, afraid she would break apart with the strength of her orgasm.

It was obvious that Cain was nearing his finish when his breathing became choppy and he buried his face in the crook of her neck, his cadence becoming irregular and erratic. She was almost thankful that he would finish before she had to experience the climax that was surely going to kill her, when he reached between them and crushed his thumb to her clit, drawing rough circles on it. The sensation was enough to throw her over the edge and DG screamed, bright and piercing, as she was crushed under the weight of her orgasm. Cain followed her almost immediately, burying himself in her and murmuring her name like a prayer at her throat.

He managed not to collapse on top of her, but managed to rest some of his weight on one trembling arm. She commended him on retaining some semblance of coherency and sense, because right now, DG couldn't remember her own name, much less how to operate individual body parts.

"Uhn," DG said eloquently.

"Agreed," Cain said contentedly and moved to roll off of her. DG found herself locking her limbs around him to keep him in place. He complied easily enough.

"I think we found the cure for everything that ails you," DG found herself saying. "We'll call it the Cain cure. Of course the downside is I'll have to share you, and of course you'll have to take the occasionally ninety year old lady with cataracts for a ride, but I think it's really in service to the O.Z."

"I broke you for sure this time."

"We could charge a nominal fee," DG continued, undeterred.

"How about I just cure what ails you?"

"Repeatedly?"

"As many time as it takes, darlin'," Cain acquiesced with a snort.

"'Cause I think I have a leg cramp coming on..."

Day the Fourth

DG woke up, naked and playing the little spoon to Wyatt's big spoon. Her tin man was still sleeping, but one part of his anatomy was very much awake, and poking her in the back.

She skipped fighting lessons that morning. She thought Glitch would understand. She was sore, after all.