Summary: 21 year old Alice returns from the trade routes of china, having found love and a new side of herself. When she is called upon once more to save Wonderland, however, she doesnt anticipate that her lover will follow her down the rabbit hole and throw himself into the mystery of the Underland. But hearts are fickle, and the stakes are raised higher than ever as the two crash throught the White Queen's Kingdom, only to find that they are upside down and inside out, buried deep in the intrigues of Wonderland.

I own nothing; Alice belongs to Lewis Caroll and also partly to Tim Burton.

-Prologue-

It was Alice's twenty-first summer when she returned again to England. Looking serenely over the bow of the ship, she watched the port and its crowds loom steadily larger in her sight. Her face, having retained its openness and natural curiosity, was now slightly longer, slightly more tan, and proudly bearing a thin scar down her jawline from her right ear to almost the tip of her chin. Her eyes, once a child's sky blue, now surveyed the incoming filth of London in a steely gaze that betrayed nothing but obvious reluctance to be home. Two years in the male-dominated ports of china had taught her, and taught her well the importance of keeping her head in any situation which, in the dark, bustling alleys and crowds of china's ports, could quickly turn from diplomatic to all-out brawl. Beneath Alice's skirts there was always a small revolver, four-chamber, useful for when things got out of hand. She fingered its silhouette under the fabric. Briefly, she thought of taking the ship hostage, and commanding its captain to sail them immediately back to china. The prospect of meeting her mother, her sister and her leech of a husband, and all her dear, dear, air-headed friends was dreary, and really quite dismal. She sighed.

"Weary, Miss Kingsley?"

Alice turned. A fleeting smile crossed her face. She would never get enough of seeing his ruffled hair in the sea breeze, his cool eyes within which danced fiery laughter, his strong hands and lean muscles that he used so well. His suit and necktie were a warm grey; his shirt crisp and white. It was one of the few days he made an effort to look presentable, elegant. Usually, he could pass off as a high-class gentleman with little to no effort at all. Of course when he did try, he was all but irresistible.

"Hardly, Mister Liddell."

He took her hand, slowly raised it to his lips and kissed the palm. "Then why do you wear such a desolate face?"

She smiled truly now, eyes lighting up. "Once you meet Hamish, you'll understand. And don't forget the introduction to mother. What a bundle of fun that's going to be."

"Why, Miss Kingsley," A crooked grin, "If I didn't know you better, I'd say you're frightened. Oh, and this is the ex-betrothed-to-be Hamish? The one with indigestion?"

She scowled, "I'm not frightened. I'm apprehensive. They haven't seen me in two years, more or less. We communicated by monthly telegram. And I... have changed." She looked out to sea. "I have changed a lot. Mother won't like it. Margaret will be shocked."

He touched her shoulder. "Let's concentrate on the positives, shall we?" A chuckle. "You can now face your friends and relatives with your new Chinese mind-tricks."

She laughed to the grey sky, "To tell the truth, I'm... looking forward to flabberghasting my relations. Stir up their lives a bit. Maybe one day I'll tell them about the possible impossible things that I've seen in the orient."

"Docking!"

A cry pierced their joking mood. The sailors, bustling past them disturbed their quiet moment. Alice grew sombre again. Deep inside, she felt like she would rather face another Jabberwocky than set foot back on English soil. Smiling, he took her hand and squeezed it tightly in his own. He whispered softly in her ear. Alice steadied herself and looked down at the pebbles of London.