Shadow: Here I go again, starting yet another fic when I should be working on my older ones. (-grins-) So sue me (though I'd appreciate if you didn't); this fic has been lurking in my notebooks for a good year and a half and needs out. Please, take the time to read the babble below before you move onto the story – it contains some important(ish) stuff.

Warnings: This is shonen-ai/yaoi, which means boyxboy. If you don't like it, don't read – 'kay? I refuse to be held to blame because someone is unable to click the handily located back-button on-screen. Seriously, you can't miss it. It's a big, blue arrow on most PCs that I know of.

Also – this fic has…slightly gory moments. Or mentions things which some people may find disturbing. So, you've all been warned.

Summary: Stuck escorting the son of a visiting CEO around New York City Seto Kaiba is –not- a happy police captain, and the teen he's guarding keeps interrupting his murder investigation. The fact they hate each other doesn't help, and those odd killer monsters chasing after them both aren't really being all that constructive either… [YYxSK

Notes: Obviously, this is an AU. It's set in New York City, America (if I don't make that obvious enough). Uh…also be aware o' the fact I had to research nigh everything about this fic heavily, as in no way, shape or form am I either vaguely American, or a member of the police force. (grins) A large thankyou to Hikari Daeron for all her help as usual – without which this story wouldn't even be possible. All mistakes are my own.

Disclaimer: I own neither Yu-Gi-Oh! – for the universe I have set this in - or any version of Alice in Wonderland – for the fic and chapter title. Both belong to their respective creators, Kazuki Takahashi and Lewis Carroll.

Translations:

Miw-sher (Egyptian)Kitten

Hai (Japanese)Yes

Otou-sama/ Otou-san (Japanese)Father

Gomen Nasii (Japanese)I'm very sorry


Down the Rabbit Hole

Chapter 1: Meeting Alice

"Mommy…"

"C'mon sweetheart, we're almost home."

Feet, tripping over from tiredness, one small hand covering a yawn, the other clutching tightly to his mother's hand. "Mama…there's a…"

His mother smiled, red hair swinging over her face. "Are you tired, miw-sher? It's well past your bedtime."

"I'm not-" Another yawn, "tired."

"Uh-huh…" A laugh. "I think somebody needs a rest after running around all day. Did you have fun at Hiro's?"

"Aa…" A sleepy nod. "Hiro's mom had muffins."

Another laugh, his mother stopping suddenly and bending down. "Tell you what miw-sher, do you want a piggyback home? Daddy'll be wondering where we are."

A bright smile, a small body about to scramble onto the woman's back-

"Mommy…"

"What is it sweetheart?"

Hesitance, a small hand unconsciously tightening on his mother's shoulder.

"Where did all the light go?"

"Whatever do you m-"

The woman's words stopped, her eyes widening. Mist slowly seeped towards them, slow, rolling clouds of purple-black, a chilling cold touching their skin, soaking into their blood. A wailing, the sound of heavy, sluggish footsteps approaching. A groaning, grunting….

Hands tightened further, a small body pressing against the woman's side.

"Mommy." Fear. "Mama, mom…what is it?"

The footsteps came closer.

His voice rose slightly, anxiety pitching it at a shriller note. "Mommy?"

"Yami-"

"YAMI!"

Yami started awake, jerking upright and smacking into the food tray attached to the seat in front, knocking his half-full can of Pepsi flying and soaking both himself and his book lying next to it in flat cola.

Ah… Ruby eyes widened in dismay, a slim hand picking the now rather soggy paperback edition of Shakespeare's The Tempest out of the brown liquid it was swimming in, dangling it between thumb and forefinger.

An almost mournful note in his voice. "So much for great literature…"

A tch from the seat beside him. "Yami, will you stop fooling around? You're almost twenty for God's sake; try acting with a little maturity!"

Yami obediently ducked his head to the man in the chair next to him, stifling the wince as the movement caused his now soggy shirt to finally make contact with his skin, the seatbelt sticking rather uncomfortably to the material. "Hai, otou-sama. Gomen nasii."

"Ah…it's alright." Hatori Mouto regarded his son with a mixture of exasperation and sympathy. "I'm sorry about startling you, but I'd been trying to wake you for some time." He nodded a head at the window on his son's other side. "We're about to land."

"We are?" Tempest and Pepsi were forgotten immediately, Yami eagerly peering out the cabin porthole…and drew back, frowning. "It's raining."

Hatori laughed. "It's been raining for a good half hour."

"Still…" Yami put his tray back in the upright position, pulling a face as he saw the extent of damage to his shirt, "I hope it ends soon; this is my first ever trip to America." An almost-pout at his father. "I want it to be perfect."

A raised eyebrow, Hatori's smile indulgent. "I'm sure it will be."


As days went, Seto Kaiba was having a pretty good one. His alarm had been working that morning, his uniform exactly where he'd left it the night before (as opposed to scattered around the general vicinity of his bedroom even though he was sure he'd arranged it so it was all stuck together). The sun was shining (finally, it had been raining for two days straight, and only ended sometime that day after dawn), the birds were twittering their usual feather-brained good mornings as he went past Central Park, and he was on his way to his favourite café for his daily breakfast of steaming hot coffee (black) and pain au chocolatYes, it was a pretty good day…which, due to the natural course of things, Murphy's Law and just plain bad karma, was about to be thoroughly screwed up.

Or at least severely rained upon.

'…yet again Arthur Watkins, Police Commissioner of the New York City Police Department, has refused to comment. Speculation abounds on the nature of the deaths, as police have consistently refuted all questions asked of them and declared the case confidential. Even following Watkins' declaration last month that the incidents are all unrelated many remain doubtful, and the secrecy of the police is only heightening suspicion.'

Kaiba scowled. Yes, karma was right on time that morning, this time via radio. The annoying broadcast floated down from some window in the apartments surrounding the park. A few people in the brunet's path quickly stepped out of his way, unwilling to cross the scary-looking police captain. And still the radio continued to blare:

'An inside source claims at least three captains have declined charge of the case, unwilling to face the responsibility such a spate of deaths has brought. With this news -"

The channel was changed abruptly, and a cheery jingle advertising New York muffins ('they're hot to trot - that's what!') came on instead. Kaiba scowled some more, and lengthened his pace. He really needed that coffee now…


The scent of lemon disinfectant was still in the air from cleaning the night before when Kaiba pushed open the door to the station with his free hand, draining the last dregs of his drink with the other before chucking the polystyrene cup into a handily situated bin just inside the entrance. The officer on duty recognised him from his perch behind the station front desk, nodding a greeting to his superior before quickly averting his gaze again – Seto Kaiba was never usually in the greatest of moods at the best of times, least of all first thing in the morning; so it was safest to keep one's head down at all times in the brunet's company to avoid one's head being bitten off. The man's team were the rare exception to the rule – but they made up for that by being on the receiving end of Kaiba's sharp tongue so oft. Ordinary mortals were simply advised to keep the hell out of the way.

Kaiba moved through the station's – noticeably empty - hallways to his office. It was really too early for any of his direct underlings to be in, and so he had some time to himself (which was rather a relief, judging by the sanity of most of them).

Kaiba's private office, by all standards, was quite a nice one. As an Captain he, of course, had one to himself, with a larger room outside devoted to the various captains he got to er-well to be blunt – order around on a day-to-day basis (they all had to share one room divided up by boards into cubicles). Kaiba's office was separated from the main room by a wall half plaster, half glass, and the glass had optional blinds that could be drawn across it to hide the inside from outside's snooping eyes. The walls of the office were cream, and the floor was thin carpet of a denim blue. The furniture was plain wood, carefully polished, and the various pieces of stationary arranged on the room's desk were neat and orderly. Very few personal items decorated the room – a white dragon paperweight sat on the left of Kaiba's desk (it was a running joke in the station that some days the dragon's temper and Kaiba's were one and the same), while a framed photograph of two boys stood on the right – one of whom was clearly Kaiba himself as a young boy. A plain vase stood on top of his filing cabinet, filled with appleblossom and scarlet lilies – and that was it. The room spoke very little about its occupant – either Seto Kaiba was an exceedingly dull man, or a very private one.

The office's blinds were shut that morning so Kaiba opened them – including the one on the window that showed the world outside the building. Morning sunlight streamed through into the room instantly, golden and bright, slanting through the gaps between the buildings opposite the street and filling the office with light.

It…wasn't such a bad day. Sure, the radio had brought up the unwelcome reminder of the unsolved attacks plaguing the city and the police department – unsolved crime equalled grief from superiors, and those superiors in turn received much more of said grief from those higher up in the ethers of the state who were growing 'increasingly concerned for public safety'. In reality, most of the overpaid, blustering hypocrites were concerned with covering up their own behinds – they had to be seen doing something, or else they could well be out of a job (and New York city's elected did not want to be losing their nice little pay checks anytime soon, thankyou very much). But…it was still a nice day, and there hadn't been an attack for a fortnight (an attack they'd heard about, some of Kaiba's internal pessimism quickly pointed out). This was good, as it gave his team and him – the poor unfortunates who had taken on the case, though thankfully they'd managed to keep that knowledge out of the paparazzo's clutches insofar - some more time to attempt to solve the other attacks, without having to worry about a new set. (It was also bad, the internal pessimism piped up again, as they had no leads whatsoever from any of the first incidents and, horrible as it was to admit it, they'd most likely need another corpse in the hopes to gain some sort of information or evidence.)

Something…something was really wrong in New York. A run of killings had been occurring across the city, the likes no-one was accustomed to. Sure, New York had more than its fair share of crime, but these attacks were brutal. There had been at least twenty incidents the police knew of concerning both sole victims and groups, and not a single person had survived. The bodies…some of the bodies had been mutilated beyond all recognition, forensics having to use dental records as a method of identifying the corpses. Chunks of flesh had been ripped away by what looked like teeth on some; others had been cleaved straight in two. One poor woman had had her stomach torn open, while a young man –

They were still looking for his body neck-down.

These attacks were gruesome and unprecedented – even New York hadn't seen anything like them before, on this scale. And yet…all the killings had nothing to link them, save the fact they all occurred within a few weeks of each other. It was too much to be a coincidence – yet they could find no evidence!

Kaiba punched his fist into the wall, suddenly angry. It was his job to stop these kinds of things from happening, to protect the innocent citizens of New York and still… He felt useless. The body count kept rising and his team kept turning up nothing time and time again…!

This couldn't go on.


"Wow…" Yami was used to living the high life. He'd been brought up the son of the man who was the head of one of Japan's largest gaming corporations, and was quite used to being surrounded by luxury. But…but this…! "Otou-sama…" The teen dropped his bag in the hallway of the suite he'd be staying in while he and his father were in America, "otou-sama, just how much did you pay for this place?!"

Hatori Mouto glanced around the suite, a little confused. "You don't like it?"

"'Like' it?" Yami was still completely taken aback. "I love it!! We actually own this place? I mean…wow."

Hatori smiled. The suite in question – well, it was more of a condo, to be exact - was one of the few at the Plaza Hotel – the Edwardian suite – in New York. He'd bought it a few years back mostly to impress, but he'd found it came in useful for his many trips to America. While he wasn't using it he rented it out to some of his richer friends.

The Edwardian suite contained a living room, a bedroom, a large bathroom, a medium-sized toilet (rather snootily referred to as the powder-room), and a Butler's Pantry. The condo's lighting and heating were controlled by an electronic touch-screen system as well as switches, and the very same system linked the suite to every part of the Hotel including the Butler, room service, cleaning and various other sources. It was a beautiful, elegant place, with a stunning view of the Plaza grounds when one glanced out of the window.

All in all, it was more than adequate enough to be a home for Yami for a few months.

Hatori himself would be merely staying in a room during the time he was in the city – he had business elsewhere in the States to attend to, and would be spending time overnight in other cities. There was no need for him to rent a flat for the simple fact it would be empty most of the time as he'd be away. Yami, on the other hand, was staying put in New York City for the whole visit, and so was being given all the extra space.

"Just don't trash the place." Hatori's smile grew as his nineteen year-old (soon to be twenty) son shot him an indignant look. "It's pointless pouting about it – you and Yugi did manage to completely ruin the downstairs lounge but two years ago during one of your parties."

"Hey, that had absolutely nothing to do with-"

"And you managed to tear apart your bedroom that one time when your significant other at that period…ah…'stayed over'."

Yami flushed red, and quickly shut up.

His father laughed. "Just try to keep damage to a minimum, alright? …Now, the mayor of New York is quite keen to please both you and I while we are here-"

"He wants you to invest in local business?"

"Of course." Hatori nodded. "Anyway, due to our status, he's offered us both security and an escort during our stay-"

Crimson eyes widened, Yami suddenly having a good idea of what his father was going to say. "Otou-san, you didn't-!"

"I'm not letting you wander about this city completely alone, Yami."

"'Tou-san, I'm twenty next month, that's-"

"-Not even the legal drinking age here in America." Hatori crossed his arms, overriding his son's protests. "You are underage Yami, and the son of a wealthy – and quite notable, if I do say so myself – businessman. You're the heir to quite a bit of money… I am not letting you jeopardise your own safety by wandering around an unknown country without an escort."

"Father-!"

"Yami, either you graciously accept the escort the mayor is offering to you, or I leave half the security team we brought with us to guard you, and follow you at all times."

Yami frowned, disliking immensely the choices offered to him. His father was the only one who ever managed to completely, and effectively, control him, and it rankled every time the man pulled – in Yami's eyes – such a dirty trick on him.

The teen sighed. There really wasn't all that much choice to start with – he hated his father's security, and most of them didn't like him all too much either. After giving them the slip one too many times in his younger days they'd learned to grow wise to his tricks, and now whenever Yami was being guarded by them he found himself completely unable to get away without being caught. Also, they fussed over everything he did, and treated him like a five year-old. So…

"…Who's the escort?"


"Er-Captain?" A dark-eyed, dark-haired head stuck itself round the door of Kaiba's office, looking suitably apologetic for interrupting a superior officer hard at work.

"What is it, Kingston?" Kaiba dropped the case file he'd been flicking through with a sigh, raising his gaze to meet that of one of his direct underlings. Adam Kingston was an intelligent, serious officer and Kaiba respected him; for Adam to interrupt him must mean something was up – and it had to at least be a little more than that glutton Wheeler stealing all the tea-break donuts for the nth time.

Kingston pushed the door open "Captain, Inspector Allenham's here to see you in person."

"Then by all means, show him in." Kingston nodded and left the office, coming back again a few seconds later with a taller, older officer. Kaiba stood to greet his superior (Kingston quickly left the office). "Inspector Allenham, sir. To what do I owe this honour?"

"Captain." Allenham's smile was friendly as he strolled into the room. "Ah…do you mind if I take a seat?"

"Not at all, sir -" Allenham had set himself down in the chair on the other side of the desk and motioned Kaiba to do the same, so the brunet complied. "May I inquire as to the nature of your visit? I very much doubt this is a social call."

"Ah, straight down to business. It's one of the things I most admire about you Captain – but again, I digress." The Inspector nodded, leaning forward in his chair. "You may or may not have heard, but a Chief Executive officer for a high-tech gaming corporation is visiting New York for a few months. The…Mouto Corporation, I believe?"

"I've heard of them." Kaiba's reply was blunt, his blue eyes guarded.

"I don't doubt it Captain, not with your background." Allenham coughed, continuing. "The man has brought with him his son for the trip and, naturally, the mayor has extended a warm and welcoming hand to the two of them."

"His Honour is most kind." Sarcasm rang in Kaiba's voice. "May this welcoming hand have any inclination towards Mouto Corporations' pockets?"

His superior cracked a grin. "Quite possibly. Anyway, as I said – Mr. Hatori Mouto – Mouto Corporation's CEO – has brought his eldest son with him on his trip. The boy is going to be staying in New York City while his father attends to business here and in local cities and states, and of course will need suitable protection. The mayor has offered to provide this protection in an effort to enamour Mr. Mouto to the city's good intentions. The boy requires only a simple escort, one or two guardians and-"

"Oh no." Kaiba suddenly knew where the conversation was leading, "Sir." He thoughtfully tacked on the end. "Inspector, with all due respect: I'm a cop, not a babysitter."

His superior smiled, but his expression was tight. "The teen needs accompaniment, detective. He has hostage-potential; his father is the CEO of the Mouto Corporation, and I'm sure you don't even need the expertise of your background for you to know how well-off that company is at the moment. I'm loathe to send the grunts to look after him, and besides, to do so would be a direct snub to Mr. Mouto. The mayor wants Mouto corporation's money in Captain, and I'm not going to be the one explaining to him why the company president high-tailed it out of town. This is politics – there's little I can do about it."

"Sir, I'm busy with the events out here. I really don't think-"

"There's no-one else I'd trust with this close enough, Kaiba and the boy needs a representative of the police force with him. I have arranged for you to be introduced to Mr. Mouto and his son next Monday; the mayor is throwing a party. Bring an officer with you for company, if you must - I will be there to further brief you, and introduce you to your charge."

Kaiba sighed. "Understood."

His lieutenant smiled. "And Kaiba?"

"Yes sir?"

"Be nice."


Captain Seto Kaiba of the New York City Police Department was undeniably, and irrefutably, bored. Out of his mind, if you wished to be exact.

This party…Kaiba wrinkled his nose in distaste. The 'high-life' as many called it, had never appealed to him, nor affected him in the same way as countless others seemed to be affected. A giant room filled to the brim with elegant, bejewelled guests did not inspire him, and the thousands of tedious political conversations filling the air did anything but keep him enthralled.

This was New York City's elite, and splendour was on display all around to make sure no-one forgot that. Kaiba had successfully survived the evening so far by making small-talk with the innumerable ladies that seemed to find the 'young attractive captain' like a large collection of homing devices, but still. He couldn't take much more of this. Parties like this were one of the reasons he'd abandoned this sort of life in the first place…

Detective Kingston, at his side, merely looked amused at his superior's discomfort. "It will all be over soon, sir. Just imagine you're in a happy place inside your head."

Kaiba raised an eyebrow at him.

The black-haired young man smiled, shrugging. "It works for Joey. He claims he has a mountain of jelly donuts there covered in sprinkles."

"Just why does it not surprise me that Wheeler could come up with such an idio-"

"Good evening, Captain; Detective." Somehow, while the two had been talking, Inspector Allenham had appeared from the crowd, effectively dispelling all the clinging girls that had gathered around the policemen. "Could I introduce to you the President of Mouto Corporation, Mr. Hatori Mouto?"

Kaiba stiffened, suddenly formal. "Mr. Mouto. It's a pleasure to meet you." He extended a hand to the Japanese businessman. "I have heard so much about your company."

"This would be Captain Kaiba, Mr. Mouto," (Allenham was still making introductions,) "the primary escort for your son. He is the youngest Captain on the force by a good many years, was top of the Academy in many areas and – well, we here at the NYPD are all very proud of him. Beside him we have Detective Kingston, another loyal and notable officer."

"It is an honour to meet you Captain; Detective." Mr. Mouto smiled pleasantly at both men, and they (rather forcedly in the case of one lanky brunet) back at him. "I am glad to know my son will be in safe hands here; he is quite precious to me."

"Our children always are." Allenham nodded knowledgeably. "Myself, I have two daughters and a son, and though the two girls are young ladies now, I still worry. It's always reassuring to know they're in safe hands…" The Inspector coughed, drawing himself back to the subject at hand. "The good Captain here will escort your son wherever he wishes to go in New York, Mr. Mouto – within reason of course. I must inform you Captain Kaiba is quite at a liberty to refuse to allow your son to venture into certain areas – for his own safety, of course – should the Captain feel it is necessary for such a restriction."

"That is perfectly acceptable." A nod from the CEO. "I suppose I should now introduce my son and your charge for the next few months Captain Kaiba, shouldn't I?"

"That would be -" Allenham halted mid-sentence.

From seemingly nowhere Hatori Mouto pulled a…unique-looking youth, the man's lips twitching slightly in the beginnings of a smile as the Inspector, Kaiba and Kingston all tried so very hard not to gawk.

Hatori nodded benignly at the trio. "This is my son – Yami Mouto."

Yami, to put it mildly, was a bit of a surprise. The teen was dressed agreeably enough; in a crimson shirt and black dress pants, a gold pendant hanging around the youth's neck and resting upon his shirt; but…well…wow. 'Yami' looked to be about seventeen, and he was one handsome teenager. Hatori Mouto's son had golden skin from time spent so long under the sun, soft tan glowing with health. He was slim, frame lithe and catlike; clothes clinging in all the right places to subtle muscles. Yami's hair spiked up in glorious mix of ruby, ebony and gold, bangs the colour of ripened wheat framing his sharp face. Deep eyes of an exotic crimson studied the world, scarlet depths outlined with coal-dark eyeliner.

The Inspector recovered his voice first. "Mr. Mouto." He held out a hand to Yami. "It is a pleasure to meet you."

An elegant eyebrow raised towards his hairline, but Yami's words were perfectly polite. "And I, you…Inspector Allenham – wasn't it?"

A tight smile. "…You are quite attentive, Mr. Mouto."

Yami's father nodded. "My son is an exceptionally gifted youth, Inspector. Hardly anything gets past him. Yami is nothing if he is not astute."

"Admirable." Another forced smile. "Young Mr. Mouto…may I introduce Captain Seto Kaiba and Detective Kingston? The Captain will be the one escorting you during your stay here."

Cool, unreadable ruby eyes turned on Kaiba, a slow appraisal staring in their dark orbs as the detective unflinchingly met his gaze. "Captain…" The youth extended a hand, "it is an honour to meet you." He smiled – catlike once more. "You look exceedingly young for your position…I must commend you on…exceptional skills."

Kaiba bristled. "They are quite adequate enough, I assure you."

"I don't doubt it." The reply was glib. "Though…your name rings a bell, Captain. 'Kaiba'… are you of the Kaiba Corporation fame?"

"I possess no association with KaibaCorp; the name is merely a coincidence." Kaiba's own reply was brittle.

Allenham coughed, sensing the good captain's seemingly docile temperance was being put under great strain. "Yami – may I call you that?" (A brief nod.) "Yami, forgive me for asking, but how old are you?"

"I turn twenty on the seventh of the next month."

Kingston nearly spat out the mouthful of champagne he'd swiped from a passing waiter's tray. "You're how old?!"

Amused crimson eyes turned on him. "Deducing from the fact I turn twenty on my next birthday, it would be safe to assume I am nineteen, Detective."

"I – you – I mean, yes of course -"

"You're babbling, Detective."

"Yes – you're quite right and -" Kingston faltered. "I'm just going to shut up now."

"That would be constructive."

As Kingston blushed, Kaiba felt his irritation with Yami Mouto rise another notch. Adam hardly ever flushed – this…boy was making one of his finest officers look like a bumbling idiot –

"You must forgive the detective." Kaiba placed a sweetly insincere smile on his face. "It was so terribly hard to deduce your age at first – I believe we took you for being fifteen?"

Yami's eyes narrowed, and Allenham let out a low hiss.

"Kaiba!"

The youngest of their group looked at him in a placating manner. "Inspector, please do not reprove the good Captain. Kaiba should not be condemned for human behaviour – I believe, after all, it is natural for one to be jealous of someone both younger and smarter than them?"

"'Jealous'!" Kaiba looked indignant. "Why you-"

"Captain Kaiba." Allenham forced firmness into his voice, cutting off the younger man.

"Yami!" Hatori scolded his son.

Kingston had by then recovered from his blush, and tried very hard not to laugh. He hid his amusement though, when the stern gazes of both his superiors latched on him disapprovingly. "Er-" The detective tried to come up with something that would ensure the four other members of their small group didn't lunge at each other's – and his as well if he was unlucky – throats. Inspiration struck when another waiter passed by with a tray full of the traditional small snacks. Smiling, Kingston lifted this from the startled man's hands, and offered it to the glaring quartet around him.

"Would anyone care for some refreshments?"


Shadow: Feedback would be greatly appreciated, thanks. And….now I'd best go start writing stuff up for next month. (grins)