A.N.: Okay, first Wizard of Oz fic, it was prompted by my school's production. Um, I don't own the characters, so please don't kill me for this. Reviews a very much appreciated, though flamers will be delivered directly to the Wicked Witch of the West to be dealt with. I'm serious.


The old woman sat rocking gently on the old fashioned wood porch staring out at the browning autumn fields of wheat as they danced in the breeze. Her bright blue eyes, hidden beneath deep wrinkles born of hard times and greatest joys, twinkled in the light of a long forgotten memory. A storm was coming. She could feel it in her bones.

"Mom," a man's voice called out from inside the house, "Mom, where are you?"

Dorothy Gale looked up from her view, looking back towards the old screen door. It took a moment before the form of her son Hickory Zeke Hunk Wilson appeared behind it. The middle-aged man immediately gave his mother a worried look, opening the door to hurry outside.

"Mom!" he exclaimed, rushing to her side, "What are you doing out here?"

Dorothy smiled coyly. Hickory looked so much like his father. Tall and broad in build, he had dusty blond hair that had begun to thin. Just like his father, he felt a deep connection to the land and family. As he'd grown older, he'd grown away from the need for fantasy and now, unfortunately, sneered at them. He was a practical man. Sadly, the only thing he seemed to have recieved from his mother were a pair of deep blue eyes.

Patting his cheek, Dorothy replied, "Just thinking, sweety. Storm's comin'."

Hickory's eyebrow raised.

"Now, Mom," he began.

"Oh, I know you don't believe me," said Dorothy. She removed her hand as her expression fell slightly., "Just like your father. But I tell you, I can feel it in these old bones."

Hickory sighed. Standing up, he glanced out at the wide fields. Overhead the swirling gray of thunder-clouds slowly rolled toward the house. Glancing back at his mother, he saw her staring out at them with a faraway look.

"Come on, Mom," he said, suddenly, "If the storm's coming, I don't want you out in it."

Dorothy looked up at him and gradually stood up. Despite the fifty years that had passed, she held herself like she had when she was a child of twelve bravely facing Ms. Gulch. She could still remember the older woman's steel black eyes follow her every time she and Toto passed by her house. Though it had taken her a while, she had finally followed Hunk's advice and traveled a different way. Soon after, Ms. Gulch had disappeared, leaving nothing but a broken open cast behind.

Hickory gently guided his mother into the houses small living room. An ancient tv stood in the corner with a modern vcr atop of it. The room was full of other modern gadgets, but somehow the items didn't take away from the old home feel of the place. Letting his mother take a seat in one of the old chairs, Hickory turned and stalked down the hallway. Eventually stopping at a plain wood door he knocked loudly. From inside, he could hear the sound of someone shuffling around and the creak of old floor boards. Finally, the door opened revealing a teenage girl with brown hair, a pleasant face, and dark green eyes.

"Emily," said Hickory annoyed, "Weren't you suppose to be watching your Nana?"

The girl gave him an odd look. She wore lose fitting, plaid pajama pants and a black teetop over them. Her ears were covered by black headphones which she pulled off.

"What?" she said, and Hickory could hear the music pounding in them.

"You were suppose to be watching your Nana,"Hickory repeated, "She's too old to be left by herself."

Emily fixed her dad with an impatient look and leaned over to look in the hall. She could just see her grandmother relaxing in the recliner. Leaning back, she crossed her arms over her chest.

"You don't seem to be doing much watching," she replied sarcastically.

A flash of anger crossed Hickory's eyes.

"Don't give me mouth, girl," he warned, raising a finger, "Now go watch your grandmother before I put a hurtin' on you."

Emily rolled her eyes at the comment. Stalking past him, she walked down the hallway into the living room and took a seat next to Dorothy. Taking up the flipper she turned on the tv. Hickory sighed again. Ever since his wife's death, Emily had changed severely. The fifteen year old girl had taken to having an attitude with everyone in authority including her father. The poor man had no idea what to do with her and it hadn't helped him that his mother had begun to live more in her realm of fantasies. Shaking his head, he continued down the hall to his room/office. At least he knew he could take refuge in the problems of the real world.