Intro

The Cheshire Cat regarded his new surroundings calmly. He recognized all the pieces of Wonderland as easily as he recognised the face that grinned up at him from a pond, and for that he was grateful, but its familiarity paled in the face of all the angular greyness of London. Was there nothing that flowed into anything there? Not as far as he could tell. That would take exploring after all, and the Cat was not one for exploring of his own volition. Besides, he could learn plenty of things about this strange coupling of worlds just by staying put.

So he watched and he learned. As he watched, several of Alice's kind passed by, and he couldn't help but feel unimpressed with them. Their very forms seemed like a contradiction to him, for whilst the males were large and dressed quite drably, the females were smaller and dressed brightly by comparison. It was the Cat's experience that such differences between the sexes of a species usually fell along a different line. If a creature was bright it was often bigger or more powerful than its counterpart which was often dull and smaller to hide more easily. Neither form fell to a specific sex of course, as the males of spiders and the males of birds could attest to that, but as he watched pass in groups of twos and threes and fours, he came to doubt it had much to do with anything important. In fact, they all came off as frail and perhaps a little stupid.

"Though I am quite intelligent and Alice quite a warrior. I doubt that it's at all fair to compare them to creatures like us," he mumbled to himself.

The passers-by seemed not to notice him as he spoke. Nor did they seem to see him either. Perhaps the rules of each world conflicted in such a way that the inhabitants of each world couldn't interact with the others? A depressing prospect, for Unicorn would have been out of his mind with disbelief that more creatures like Alice did exist and that he was unable to talk to them or show them that he too existed. The creatures disappeared down the street, none the wiser of their new surroundings. Surely if they saw it, they wouldn't be so... blasé about it.

Ah, but it should be so obvious.

Alice came up from a stone tunnel a little ways away, every bit as curious of this new world as the Cat felt, but of course more apt to throw what caution she posessed to the wayside. He leapt off his outsized dice and took up an even gait beside her, flashing her an especially wide grin as he did.

"This is your doing?" he said.

"Why do I get the feeling that's not so much a question as it is an accusation?" She dusted off her dress in an attempt to appear nonchalant, but it was always difficult for her to hide her emotions. The Cat of all creatures knew that better than anyone, perhaps even her, so he saw through it easily.

"You shouldn't be so proud of yourself, silly girl. You don't know the ramifications of combining your world with Wonderland nor of what the Dollmaker's defeat means by the new laws. Your kind seem unaffected by your perception. Unlike myself, of course."

"I suppose, but when have I ever been aware of all but the most primal laws of any given world?" she asked.

"You do have a point."

Alice gave him a cross look then. "And Cat?"

"Yes?"

"Don't you dare presume that Wonderland is any less my world than the other, you understand?"

The Cat's smile faltered slightly. "My, my. Found our claws have we?"

"Wonderland is more a home than London ever was. You should know that."

"Very well." He flicked his tail and took a seat where he stood. "Ah, speaking of perception..."

Alice wasn't listening however. She had taken to investigating a large gnarled tree that had grown into the face of a coal-black building, which buckled and groaned under the weight of it. The roots dug into the many slim windows, wormed into the weaker crevices of the brick face, and spilled onto the street where many of the cobblestones had been displaced in the roots' search for earth. But the building didn't take the tree's abuse lying down. Where the roots disappeared into its brick, they had been scoured raw and greenish-yellow sap dripped honey-like down the sides of the building. It was an interesting battle to witness.

"Alice, listen to me."

"I'm sorry. I just can't take it in quickly enough!"

"And this is a side of you I missed dearly, but perhaps you should aware of how your perception can get you in hot water with your kind."

She straightened up so quickly that she might have had cold water poured down her dress. Luckily, more of her kind hadn't made another appearance yet, though that was only as far as they could see; someone could be watching her oddness from one of the windows high above.

"That's right. They can't possibly see all this-nor you."

The Cat nodded. "I don't think it would be wise to be conversing so openly with me-or any of the native Wonderlandians-either. No matter how bothersome or self-important they are. That's perhaps the surefire way of landing yourself a one-way ticket back to Rutledge."

Alice bit her lip and nodded, her acid green eyes feeling out her surroundings in such a way that made the Cat wonder if she had always known how to be so cautious. He loathed using such an underhanded tactic, but it seemed to work and could mean the difference between life and another dip in the vat of hell.

Quite suddenly she marched off in the direction of a slim space between a dull grey house and another tree-bearing structure. The Cat followed some distance behind, watching closely. As thin as she was, Alice barely fit inside and the gloom swallowed all but her white apron and the glint of her eyes. He opened his mouth to ask what she thought she was doing, but it became apparent almost immediately.

She started climbing, using the walls to suspend herself as she crept upwards, little by little.

With a chuckle, the Cat disappeared in wisps of orange and reappeared on the roof of the grey house.

"I'm quite surprised, Alice. Can't you just find a way to jump up to me instead of... this?"

Alice grunted at him and shot him a look from out of the dark.

"Oh... can't jump in your world can you? Pity. You were always so graceful when you were floating."

It continued in such a fashion for some long minutes. Alice shimmied up the buildings with increasing frustration and the Cat groaned about her new physical limitations and how she looked so vulnerable working up such a sweat. He was sure she'd be at his throat the instant she caught her breath, but he did so enjoy teasing her. Even as she struggled to mount the roof proper-in a most unbecoming fashion for Wonderland's hero-he lamented her old ability to dissolve and reassemble in a cloud of butterflies in the most wistful tone he could muster, crowding her as he did. It had been so long after all. Might as well start making up for lost time and lost mirth.

"Damn Cat..." she muttered now that few, if any, creatures could overhear. She lay sprawled out in the shade of the tree, positively exhausted. "I didn't think that would be so difficult."

"Nor I. I'm not sure I like the new laws that you've been bound by."

"They're far from new to me, but they're just harder to bear now what with all this... this..."

"Freedom?" he ventured. "Good humor? Inner strength?"

"All of them, Cat, all of them. I feel as if a boulder has been thrown off my shoulders." Her fingers dipped into the pocket of her apron and wrapped around something heavy within.

"Well, perhaps with some practice, mounting buildings and the odd metaphorical mountain won't be so draining. You may be incapable of the feats you performed in Wonderland-"

"Cat!"

"-but clearly you're not without a single hope."

She blinked up at him through her sweat with a nearly unreadable look on her face. "Despite all the ways you frustrate me, I think you may be my dearest friend," she said.

"Oh?" Though he managed his outward demeanor perfectly, inwardly he couldn't help be be touched by her admission. No one had ever said such a thing to him before. Which wasn't a surprise in itself, for he was the most aloof Wonderlandian he knew of, save for the Caterpillar, but that giant bug counted for nothing since he disappeared up his mountain. He knew it without her saying it, and yet hearing it felt quite... nice.

"Yes," she said and nothing more. Instead she put her arms behind her head and shut her eyes, humming a song he recognized from long ago, but he couldn't recall the words.

Full of fondness for her, he lay next to her, intending to take a long cat nap after all the excitement of the day. "Perhaps you will be my dearest friend if I should ever get my fur back. I do miss it you know."

She only laughed and scratched between his ears in response.

And with the unspoken promise of an exploration of the new Londerland when they awoke hanging between them, they slipped into their own dreams, light and untroubled.