Disclaimer: I was behind the times for getting in on the ownership of Tin Man...not that I have the money to anyhow.

Author's Note: Just a little ficlet my muse shoved into my brain while the majority of it was being dazzled by new books. My mind is now officially a war zone: muse wants to write and brain-brain wants to read. Muse needs brain-brain to turn pictures into words and brain-brain needs muse to turn words into pictures. And I have practically no impulse control. I am doomed. Eheheheh.


The Viewer behind the desk was looking decidedly harassed. Not surprising really, the waiting room was crawling with the injured, the ill, and those who thought they were ill. She barely glanced at the young man who walked through the door with quiet but purposeful steps. Rifling through the stacks of parchment, the Viewer gave a huff of frustration as she failed to find the form she was looking for. She could swear she'd Seen it there.

"Excuse me," a polite voice interrupted her search, "I'm here to pick up my wife."

Glancing up sharply, the Viewer swayed slightly then looked at the young man in incredulous astonishment. "Aren't you a bit early?" she demanded.

"Eh? No, no," he muttered with a quick check of his pocket watch, "I was told to pick her up at one."

Scandalized, the Viewer gaped at him. "You can't be serious. I've never heard of such a thing, you must be mistaken."

"Don't believe so, my instructions were quite clear," the young man replied, tugging on his hat.

About to give him a piece of her mind regarding his instructions, the Viewer was distracted by the chiming of the door. Looking up in dismay, she noted no less than five new patients entering. "Fine, fine," she huffed distractedly, "just give me a minute and I'll get her." Bustling off, she reappeared moments later and thrust a silk wrapped bundle into his arms. "This is outrageous," she muttered all the while, "what is the realm coming to."

"Eh, but..." the recipient protested, but the Viewer moved away too fast and was soon lost from view.

Young Wyatt Cain stared at the bundle in his arms with utter bewilderment. It giggled and squirmed, had big blue eyes and was no more than a year old; the rookie tin man and husband was fairly certain it was far too early for people to be handing him babies. "What am I supposed to do with you, kid?" he asked the infant.

He was not left long in contemplation as there was a sudden shriek of alarm and the tin man was forced to dance neatly aside as a small form came barrelling out of a nearby passageway. "Lilo! Lilo!" cried the little girl that had nearly taken Cain's knees out from under him, "Deeg gone, Deeg gone! Help, help!"

"Here, kid," the young tin man called, hoping he had a solution to his baby problem. Unfortunately, before he got any further he was interrupted by the pounding of booted feet as half a dozen royal guards burst into the room after the child.

"Your Highness, what is the matter?" the apparent leader demanded.

"Deeg gone, Deeg gone," the small child wailed back, "I's 'sposed to watch'er and I's got 'tracted."

"Er," Cain attempted to interject.

"We must find her at once! Search the building," the guard leader commanded, "the exits must be...You there!" he bellowed, catching sight of the young tin man, "Release the princess at once!"

"Release the what?" the bewildered Cain exclaimed.

"You heard me," the guard insisted, drawing his gun, "release the princess at once."

"Hey!" the Tin Man growled in outrage, turning his body protectively about the infant, "watch where you point that around a baby! This is all a misunderstanding."

"Oh really..."

"Lilo!" the eldest princess shrieked again, and then she threw herself forward into the Viewer that had just raced into the room.

"No need guns, no need guns," Lilo panted desperately, "Mistake, all a mistake. Young Viewer needs training. Good with words, bad with time. Young tin man will give Lilo princess now."

"Only if you promise not to hand her over to everyone who walks in the door," Cain grumbled as he returned the infant, who had taken the entire commotion calmly enough only to object strongly to the change in caretakers. "And what do you mean..." he began over the baby princess' cries.

"Wyatt!" a joyous voice interrupted and the tin man, having finally gotten his hands free, suddenly found them full of young woman. "We're going to have a baby," his wife informed him jubilantly, "can you imagine?"

Having only just managed to rid himself of a baby, Cain found he could. Of course, his kid wasn't going to be a princess so it shouldn't be a problem, princesses appeared to be trouble. Smiling with sincere happiness, the young husband murmured, "That's wonderful Adora."

It wasn't until much later that the young tin man returned to his half finished thought: what had the Viewer meant, bad with time?