Disclaimer: Who says I don't own Tin Man? For all you know I could be one of its original creators trying to make up for the fact that the miniseries was woefully short...of course, if you believe that, I've got a bridge to sell you...

Author Note: And here be irrefutable proof that I am a masochist, though I like to think of it as an aspiring writer's self-given exercise in seeing stories from different viewpoints and getting into different heads, and not at all what it is: virtual slavedom to a muse that just won't stop musing. Ever (I hope). I am promising myself, however, that this is my last look at this particular part of the Gulch Verse timeline. And since Quality Control made this mistake when she kept making me rewrite this over and over (and over and over), I'll just mention that this story isn't about Azkadellia, it's about her guards, and while they may spend some time musing on the eldest princess (and Old Gulchy), this is more of a day in the lives of those that guard the former Sorceress. And not just her literal guards either, as will be evident from my first choice of narrator, who's stubborn refusal to cooperate only made me write this chapter SIX FREAKING TIMES. Had the oneshot-that-shall-not-be-named made me write it more than the three times it did, I would have shot it in the head and moved on with life, unfortunately my Tin Man muse is much more stubborn than the other one and this particular character is inconveniently bulletproof – he is not proof, however, to me standing over him with a mental textbook of psychology and the merest thought of what I might think to do with Pavlov. All I'm saying is that he'd better behave himself in future, I don't take frustration well – as the internet has now learned and I am officially back online (about time, too, can't believe pop is the cheapest thing to drink at the coffee shop, no wonder the continent is getting overweight).

PS Rules are much like those of TFTO and 'Tic Tok' – humour/seriousness level depends on the situation and who is telling the story at the moment, case in point...

...

Wyatt Cain's hand fiddled idly with the butt of his gun as he stared at the speaking advisor in an abstract sort of manner. It wasn't that the Tin Man wasn't paying attention per say – he knew exactly what was going on in his surroundings – he just had other things to concern himself with than the idiotic ramblings of a fellow trying to give opinions on a war he had no firsthand knowledge of. Out of the corner of his eye, Cain caught sight of Princess Azkadellia casting a longing glance at the Council Room doors. Again.

Interesting.

After a minute the eldest princess turned her attention determinedly back to the meeting in session. Cain flicked a glance over to the youngest princess, searched all the sightlines surrounding her, checked DG again, scanned every line of sight towards Azkadellia, and then verified DG's location. Satisfied of the Crown Princess' continued health and safety, the Tin Man turned his attention to the eldest princess once more.

Princess Azkadellia's gaze came to rest on the Council Room doors with an almost...wistful expression. A moment later, so did DG's.

Across the room, the advisor's blathering faltered abruptly as the Tin Man's hand settled firmly on the revolver's grip. Cain's eyebrow's twitched together a fraction and he forced himself to turn away, his eyes locking onto the two members of the Crown Princess' protection detail currently standing active duty. Both men stiffened immediately, as if somehow trying to stand straighter. Cain wasn't entirely sure that was possible, but at least it showed they were alert. He regarded them for a few minutes, waiting to see if they'd make the mistake of relaxing. The Tin Man wasn't, technically, a part of the youngest princess' protection detail, or even in the chain of their command – DG wouldn't allow it, refusing point blank to allow her...friend – Cain mentally chewed on the word unhappily – to be put in the position where he'd have to stop bullets for her. As if he wouldn't do that anyhow. Didn't matter though, anyone that needed to knew who was really in charge of DG's safety, the last person to make an issue of technicalities being still laid up in the infirmary and all. The guards didn't relax, they tried to stand straighter still and darted searching glances around the room.

Cain shifted his gaze to the resistance fighter standing in the far corner, watching the eldest princess attentively. The man had the slightest smirk on his face, as if he was finding something amusing. This would have disturbed the Tin Man had he not already discovered in the time since recruiting the soldier to Azkadellia's temporary guard that Dawkins was always finding something amusing. Laughing warriors were like that, and the effect of that smirk on top of a 6'5'' solid frame that screamed hardened soldier could be quite appropriately threatening – when the man wasn't spoiling the effect by grinning like a little boy who'd manage to steal all the cookies. Like he was doing now, as he slyly shifted his gaze to the youngest princess, then to the Tin Man, and back again. Cain thrummed his fingers lightly on the butt of his gun while reminding himself as to the man's value as an able and willing guard to the eldest princess. Dawkins turned his attention back to his charge.

Sliding a glance over both princesses, the Tin Man focused momentarily on the advisor's ongoing speech only to discover that the lord had managed to phrase his report on the latest casualties in the continuing struggle with the remaining Longcoats as a – very – thinly concealed barb at Princess Azkadellia. Cain's hand tightened around the grip of his revolver, DG gasped inaudibly and pivoted in her chair, reaching out a hand to her sister...who had missed the whole thing because she was staring at the door again. The Tin Man's lips quirked ever so slightly as he began seriously considering an idea he'd had earlier that afternoon.

An Othersider would have no reason to harm the eldest princess.

Cain had not been put in charge of Princess Azkadellia's protection detail anymore than he was DG's, but concerned as he was for the youngest princess' welfare, and knowing her as he did, the Tin Man had had to spread the blanket of his protection fairly wide, covering as many of the holes in the Royal Family's defences as he could. He was not the best solution for the problem that was the eldest princess' security, merely the only one the O.Z. seemed willing to provide. And no one knew better than Cain, as he screened potential guard after potential guard, how lucky they'd been to have made it this far without losing anyone. A would-be assassin had once asked, as he gasped and cringed around the bullet in his gut, how a Hero of the Eclipse could defend the Sorceress. Cain hadn't answered; he'd been too damn busy dealing with the aftermath of what had been too damned close a call. He'd have thought the answer was obvious anyhow: he was the only person in the O.Z. he could trust to see to the safety of DG's sister. And he could only hope that when the day came that his every effort wasn't enough to hold the hounds of vengeance at bay, that he would be the one to pay the price.

But an Othersider would have no reason to do the eldest princess harm.

Both the princesses' gazes strayed towards the doors this time, the doors beyond which the accidental stowaway in Princess DG's travel storm, when she'd used the Otherside as a temporary retreat, sat with bewildered patience, waiting for the Royal Family to, in all likelihood, send him home. The Othersider who is the only reason this battle with the Longcoats was any different than any of the others; the policeman whose training might, just might be enough that he could be able help the Tin Man keep the Royal Family intact long enough for them to put the Realm back together; DG's 'Menace', who she trusted and, little though she showed it, missed, though it made Cain's jaw twitch as to exactly how, and how much. The man who knew nothing of the O.Z. and probably had a life he'd like to get back to...

The Tin Man turned the idea over in his mind as he rose to give his report on the battle, weighing the pros and the cons, keeping an eye on the eldest princess...who recognized his rising as a signal that the meeting would end soon, and fixed her eyes on the door with an expression of the kind painful hope Cain knew all too well. It was mirrored in DG's face, a half mischievous, half pleading smile lighting her eyes as she watched her sister take an interest in something outside of her family or the concerns of the Realm for the first time since the Eclipse. Far be it from him, the Tin Man thought with a long look at the youngest princess, to deprive anyone of their light in the darkness.

Cain made his decision.

"Now," Wyatt Cain said, "about our reluctant slipper..."