Disclaimer: I do not own American McGee's Alice, or any of the associated media and characters, that belongs to American McGee and Electronic Arts. Nor do I own Doctor Who or its characters, which belong to BBC.

It's been a few years since I wrote the first story, but I hope it pleases those who read it!

Alice Liddell

Madame Vastra

Jenny Flint

A DREAM OF FANGS AND FLOWERS

by Megamafan16

Chapter 1: A New Beginning

London, 1886, where things only looked good on the surface...and even then, only if one looked in the right place.

It was a place of repression, both internal and external. Whenever the pea soup fog clears, the respectable people expected to see none of the realities of their wondrous city. London was the heart of the great British Empire, and the manners of its people and cities should reflect that.

Mr. Toby Russell of Russell's Books applies that principle to his store, because he's in a respectable part of London. And only respectable people have the opportunity to read his books. Alice learned this through observation.

But Alice's powers of observation are limited, or she would have expected his reaction to her. One morning as she walked up to the store, just like any other day, to work at the counter, it happened. Instead of letting her in as usual, Mr. Russell barred her entrance. His eyes were narrowed, and his arms were crossed; everything about his body language pushed Alice away.

"What seems to be the problem, Mr. Russell?" she asked,

His expression narrowed even further. "Seems?" he asked indignantly, "You really don't know?"

"No, actuallly. I have done nothing wrong, and-"

"I'd call stealing from my shop wrong!" he exclaimed, rudely interrupting her. The sheer volume of his outburst forced Alice to step back a few feet, almost crashing into someone who just happened to be walking by.

Alice felt eyes start to wander in her direction, and she realized she was having a conversation she didn't want anyone to hear. "Mr. Russell, I fear we are making a scene. Perhaps we could discuss this somewhere..."

"Not an option. I'm not letting you near any of my books again. Sixteen times one's gone missing, and six times they didn't return. That's six times too many! You didn't think I wouldn't find out, did you?"

"Mr. Russell, I'm sure if you knew where they were, you wouldn't be so indignant about their loss."

"Oh but I do. You're giving them to the cheap harlots at the Pawned Queen!"

Alice was shocked to hear him exclaim that phrase with such disdain. "So I could read to them! Giving them the skills at reading and writing that will allow them to escape their horrid profession, and find opportunities for survival other than self-degradation!" she exclaimed defensively. She was passionate about this topic, and it made her temporarily forget that she was drawing a small crowd.

She did notice quickly, but this only caused her to lower her gaze slightly and decrease her volume, as she continued: "These women owe so much to those books. I couldn't persuade them to part with them even if I wanted to."

For a split-second, Alice thought she saw Toby's countenance softening. But by the time she perceived it, it was gone: "That's some sob story, Alice, but I'm not a charitable person. Charity don't mix with business, especially with whores involved! Besides, stealing in the name of charity is still stealing!"

Alice's heart started beating faster. "Please, sir. With the Contagious Diseases Act being repealed soon, their profession's becoming illegal. They need somewhere else to turn, and they have none."

"I don't want to hear it. You're too nice to send to prison," he said, causing Alice to sigh in relief; "but you're not welcome in my shop again, not as a worker nor as a buyer."

Both sides paused, and they noticed the crowd starting to disperse. They had their fill of drama.. "I suppose this is where we part ways then?"

When he nodded in the affirmative, Alice stepped forward, and extended her hand "Farewell, Mr. Russell. You were a fair employer, and that's more than I expected."

"...Thanks," said Mr. Russell with a half-hearted handshake. "Now, off you go."

Alice turned around, and walked down the street to be lost in the crowd. And Mr. Russell considered his hand, having been shaken by a woman so familiar with the lowest of the low, in spite of her apparently respectable dress.

He felt so unclean. In fact, he could have sworn his hand felt somewhat drier upon releasing Alice's hand...

…...

…...

Oh Toby, there you go again. You kicked out your most diligent employee for associating with whores. Oh well, got to keep up appearances, eh? You've worked your whole life to get where you are now. And look where it got you.

You're not making as much money as you thought you would, even by selling these ten a penny novels to the snooty, unappreciative upper crust of society.

Don't get me wrong, they're much better than the poor. By God, you hate the poor, don't you? Because that's where you come from: the lowest of the low. Your father was a criminal, and your mother whored herself out for pittances.

It wasn't hard work that got you apprenticed to that printer, but luck. Chance. And that luck hasn't got you to the ranks of the gentlemen where you truly long to be. And why shouldn't you? You're as cultured, as refined, as stuck-up as any of them, you deserve to join them. But only if luck turns in your favor like it did back then.

You would kill for a chance like that again, would you? Good, because it will pass you by unless you seize it. And I can help you.

Accept me, Toby Russell. I am your strength.

…...

…...

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As calm as she seemed on the outside, Alice Liddell was trying her best not to shout at herself. How could she have been so foolish? Why didn't she buy the books instead of steal them? Then she could have helped those prostitutes even more, and for longer.

She got lucky, and she aimed to take full advantage of that luck. That encounter with the Weeping Angel left her in contact with Charles Dodgson and his friends, individuals willing to help her reintegrate into society. And thanks to her experience of adventuring with the Doctor, she was willing to accept their help.

They got her some new clothes, more indicative of her growing up and being an adult. She now wore dresses that all but reached the ground, like most ladies did. It even had a bustle to enhance her backside, despite its going against her practical nature. She also wore longer sleeves and gloves, the two of which covered her forearms entirely. Adding a bonnet to her ensemble, as well as shawls for the colder days, completed her new grown-up ensemble.

Her education was finished, thanks to Dodgson's literary knowledge plus the best tutors his meager earnings could spare the coins for. She had a comfortable home at his estate for a while, before finally moving to a small flat near the river. They even helped her find gainful employment.

Looking after herself was hard without enough money to hire a servant, but she wouldn't have one even if she had the money. After all, memories of being Dr. Bumby's servant were relatively fresh in her mind, despite it being almost ten years since his death. It did give her a reason to keep around her old apron from long ago – amazing how it could still be useful, and for its intended purpose no less.

Employment presented another challenge altogether: she just couldn't hold a job for long. Whether it was a backstage helper at an opera house, a maid to some brutish aristocrat she forgot the name of, or even bookseller under Mr. Russell, some problem would always arise and force her back into the frenetic doldrums of unemployment. The challenge had become to make enough money to last her between jobs.

"This time seems a little more difficult," she said to herself, "given that I spent much of my time and money helping Nan's girls."

"Misfortune, and now compassion, conspire to keep you in misery. But you always have us, don't you?"

The voice cut through her self-absorbed reverie and frightened her slightly. She was so sure that, back at her small flat, she was alone with her thoughts...

...but a glance at the source of the voice revealed she was indeed alone with her thoughts. And her thoughts had transformed her one-room dwelling into a vast, dense jungle, filled with tall trees, glowing mushrooms and falling leaves and...

"Cheshire puss. You're late, even for the cryptic advice you usually give me."

"Was I? I only know as much as you do, Alice. If you don't know how someone will react, how can I warn you?" purred the Cheshire Cat with his namesake grin.

"That's the problem. I should have known. It was so obvious, with the self-important manner he strutted about his store. His keen attention to detail."

"And yet you assumed he would approve of your helping the prostitutes with his wares. Would you consider that an improvement?Long ago, you assumed the worst of everyone, even the Doctor at first. Now you assume the best."

Alice groaned. "Give me some useful advice, Cat, or begone!"

"But I do so enjoy our discussions. After all, you can only hear me when your mind has been unsettled. But if your desire is to resettle it, perhaps I might suggest a visit to the Dodo?"

"Which one, the ones recovering from being enslaved by the Hatter and his friends, or the one who runs the meaningless Caucus-races? No, those won't help me in the slightest. I want to know where to go from here."

"Well I believe I put it best some time ago in this manner: as knowing where you're going is preferable to being lost, ASK." said the Cat, before fading away as he so often did. Once again Alice was forced by habit to groan at him, for being so helpful and unhelpful all at the same time.

"He certainly looks better than he used to," she remarked to herself sometime after his departure, "back when I was mad and lonely. There is some more meat on his bones; I wonder if that's why he stays around much less often, as there's more reason a predator might want him? Oh, but there I go, making sense of nonsense like I'm a child again. I'd better find something useful to make of this excursion to Wonderland, or else he and I both shall be much worse off for it!"

And so she set off into the jungle, holding up her skirt with fasteners Wonderland usually gave her. She once again thanked her imagination for the awfully convenient addition, especially considering the weight she would otherwise be either dragging through marshland or hefting with her hands.

That was another change Wonderland had undergone since her situation improved. In addition to the Cheshire Cat looking less bony, the Gryphons growing big and strong, and the Dodos getting their feathers back, Alice looks a lot less like she was stuck in her childhood. She now wore an outfit similar to the grown-up dresses she wore in the waking world, the only differences being the lack of a bonnet, the symbols on her dress' pockets and her familiar omega necklace.

Her outfit was, of course, completely unsuited for fighting. Luckily for her, there were no battles to be fought anymore. Within her mind, the manias and phobias that used to threaten her life have been reduced to mere annoyances, barely capable of insulting her much less hurting her. Wonderland reflected the changes quite nicely: The White Queen now held more power than the Red, and the presence of her soldiers was met with love rather than fear. There were disagreements here and there, but that's where Alice came in: the voice of reason in the unreasonable world.

Essentially, with Alice playing that part, Wonderland had returned to being the paradise of her youthful years, rather than the hell of those years spent alternating between madness and poverty. That said, back then it still frustrated her, and it still did as she soon found out:

"Hurry, Alice! There's no time to waste!" exclaimed the White Rabbit as he bounded across the path. Out of habit, Alice turned to follow him through a thin passageway between the trees...

...and once through, she discovered a clearing with a large amount of creatures, lining up before a finely-dressed Dodo.

"Wonderland still confuses me. I specifically say I can't find any usefulness in the Dodo, and I find myself before him nonetheless!" Alice exclaimed. "Oh well, I guess one can never truly know their own thoughts."

"The clock's ticking down, Alice. Your money's running out." said the jittering White Rabbit. "We need a decision and we need it quickly!"

Alice sighed in frustration and resignation. Just then, the Dodo started speaking, or rather shouting as he threw leaves, paper shreds and small bits of wood into the crowd.

"Step right up! Take your pick! In the great and wonderful Caucus-races, it doesn't matter if you win or lose, for everyone wins and everyone loses! What matters here is participation! All you have to do is take a card, to say what you run for!"

This drew Alice's attention to the debris the Dodo was throwing. She stepped forward to get a closer look, and found each little piece had crude writing on it. One leaf she examined, before handing it off to a lizard, read Governess.

Another read Cook, another Secretary to feminine political activist (which went to the White Rabbit, who said "combine passion with payment!"), another read Cleaner, another read Sock factory worker.

"These are all possibilities for employment," she mused aloud, "that I appear to be considering. And I don't appear to be considering them in any productive manner."

"I'm fully aware of that possibility," said the Dodo, taking notice of Alice. "So may I suggest you run for it?"

He then handed an incredulous Alice a piece of wood with Decision maker written on it. "My own thoughts are mocking me!" she groaned.

Whether or not the Dodo heard that, he didn't give any hint. Instead, he announced to all the participants: "If every feather, fin and claw has a card, then we're ready to begin! We race around the edge of the table until something happens!"

"And where would this 'table' be? I'm not really dressed for running, so its best I stay away."

"Oh, but everything's on the table!"

The Dodo's statement confused Alice for a second...until a massive pig scratched at the forest floor in anticipation of the race, pushing the dirt aside to reveal wood underneath! They really were on a table, Alice realized, a giant one covered in forest!

Alice didn't even have a chance to complain about the ever-confusing nature of Wonderland before the White Rabbit grabbed her wrist and dragged her along, towards the edge of a cliff (table-edge, Alice reminded herself) overlooking an abyss swirling with a color that resembled her flat's walls. There, several other animals were already waiting (or already running – Caucus-races started whenever and ended whenever). Without another word, he scurried off.

This left Alice without an idea of what to do next. So she decided to talk to herself: "I told them I can't run in this dress, and still they're forcing me to run. Here I thought I was finally getting this side of me under control...but if I'm losing control now, then why? Was I ever in control in the first place? And if-"

"AAAH! SERPENT!"

The sudden exclamation interrupted Alice's soliloquy, nearly causing her to fall off the cliff. She turned around with a jerk to see that one of the contestants in the Caucus-race, a pigeon, had stopped in its tracks and was staring at her.

As she looked in confusion, the pigeon nervously backed away and again exclaimed "SERPENT!"

"Serpent? Where?" Alice asked, looking around her feet. Finding none, she looked back at the pigeon...

...to find it now had company: a much larger, more brilliantly-colored pigeon.

"Is this the serpent who's threatened you, my love?"

"Yes. It wants our eggs, I'm sure of it!"

It was then Alice realized that they were talking about her. She tried to say: "Wait, I'm not a serpent," but never got the chance. The larger pigeon flapped its wings and rushed at her, pecking her with a beak the size of her hand and beating her with wings almost as big as she was.

Scraps of cloth and drops of blood flew everywhere as the pigeon continued its relentless assault. Alice struggled in vain to push it away. She quickly gave up, and turned to run...

...where the pigeon's claws threw her over the side of the cliff! Alice screamed as she tumbled down into a dark, deep void that increasingly grew brown. Alice shut her eyes and braced for a collision – any kind of collision, not knowing whether to fear falling for eternity or being flattened against something hard.

With a resounding crack, she landed on one of her chairs, snapping it in two.

She was back in her apartment, there was no vegetation in sight, and she had no injury of any kind save the bruises from flinging herself at her furniture.

She had to sit a moment to recover her breath (on her bed, as she'd just broken her chair) and process what had just happened within her mind.

"Why did those pigeons think I was a serpent?" she asked herself, among other questions. But in the end, she decided to leave those questions unanswered.

"Staying here with no one but my thoughts will get nothing accomplished. I need to start looking for a job right now."

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

"Oh, Toby! You're home at last. I was beginning to worry; you know unsavory types abound on the streets lately. Did you get rid of that thief Alice, like you said you would?"

Mrs. Russel's greeting went completely unheeded by her husband, who moved into the house with a focused step, and a singe overriding purpose. He didn't even remove his outer clothes, as he was accustomed to doing when he re-entered his house.

As she was busy with writing a letter to a friend, she paid no notice. But when several minutes went by without a single affectionate gesture, she started to get worried. So she wandered throughout the house to find him – if something was the matter, she should be a dutiful wife and brighten his day.

That was what a lifetime of being raised in this life has taught her – duty. She doesn't care about what those reformers say women should want. According to them, she's little more than a glorified servant, but what they don't understand is that's all a woman should ever want to be – subservient to man. Besides, sharing all those tender moments with Toby make it all worth her while.

She heard some slight sounds coming from their dressing-room, so that's where she looked. What she saw there shook that dutiful foundation of hers to her core.

Toby was holding a large sack, and was throwing all of the jewels and valuables he had given her over the years into it. She gasped out loud, but his stony face didn't turn towards her at all.

She attempted to draw his attention by asking "Toby, what on earth are you doing?" but it was of no use. It was as though he were in a trance, unable to see or hear her.

"Is the store in trouble? Do you have some debts that need paying? Please, if there's something wrong then let me help you," she said again. Still no response.

But then, after he had cleaned out the valuables like a common burglar, he finally turned towards her; understandable, as she was standing in the only exit from the room. What he did next, however, was shocking beyond all measure:

He ripped her necklace off, stuffed it into his bag, then slammed her face against the wall multiple times.

She fell to the ground, her face a bloody mess, too stunned to protest as her loving husband forcefully removed the rings from her fingers.

Was this the man who promised her a comfortable and pleasant life? Was this the man who pleaded with her father for the privilege of marrying her? Was this the man who swore to stay with her in sickness and health, till Death do they part? She could not believe it so, so she asked once more: "What has gotten into you? This isn't like you!"

Finally, he offered a word of explanation:

"I'm torching everything and starting over. Moving on to find a better life. I've already discharged the servant. Now I'm discharging you, you harpy."

She remembered little more, as she chose that moment to faint.

"""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""""

Paternoster Row seems like any other street in London at first. But at the address with the number 13 on that street, there lives a very peculiar woman. She is a servant of another woman, one of greater peculiarity still. It's telling about a person when the least peculiar thing about her was her skin – tough like leather, and green in colour.

Many years ago, those living on the street objected to the woman setting up residence on their street. She silenced their criticisms with an animal hiss, and several venomous insults. For a while, this woman never went anywhere without her mysterious 'Doctor' present to instruct her on proper human behavior. As such, rumors persisted even after the woman learned to control her behavior, and started wearing a veil to limit unwanted discussion about her disfigurement.

But as vicious as some of the rumors get, none of them are close to capturing the truth about Madame Vastra. In truth, she is not even human, but a member of the ancient species Homo Reptilia. She was born more than 65 million years before any human, but went to sleep along with the rest of her people when a large planetoid seemed to hurtle towards her home planet, promising catastrophe. She would awake to find that the planetoid had settled into orbit and become a moon, Humans had replaced the so-called Silurians as the dominant species, and some of those humans had accidentally killed all of her friends and family expanding their underground transportation networks. She had declared a one-woman war of vengeance against humanity, but didn't get very far before she was persuaded to abandon her crusade by the Doctor.

After some convincing, she decided to live out the remainder of her days among the filthy apes, and in peace with them. This was a long process. She was noted by her neighbors to have calmed her anti-human rhetoric the most after employing a maid named Jenny Flint, leading to scandalous accusations...all of which were summarily ignored by the authorities.

This was because Vastra had made herself indispensable to the policemen of London as the 'veiled detective'. After several aborted career paths, such as a sideshow attraction in the theatre of Henry Gordon Jago, Vastra found her true calling in private investigation. She had a keen eye for detail, along with a wealth of knowledge from a civilization far more advanced than England in Victoria's reign. This has resulted in her, and Jenny on occasion, solving crimes and conspiracies that left the police stumped.

As such the cry of "Madame, there's a bobby at the door!" became a common phrase heard within Vastra's household, usually followed by a curt "Send them in, Jenny."

On one occasion, upon being seated opposite from her in the greenhouse-like sitting room, with several strange and exotic plants, the conversation between Vastra and the police turned to the subject of Toby Russel.

"Around 2 hours ago," the policeman described, "a fire broke out in Mr. Russel's book store on High Street, burning most of the contents. Fortunately the fire was contained before it spread to the other buildings. We would have left this to our own resources had one detail eluded us: Minutes before I was sent to you, A servant in Mr. Russel's household told us that, uh...two-and-a-half hours ago, her master had brutally attacked his wife, and left with whatever valuables he could carry. He then left saying he would be 'torching everything and starting over'."

"And you want my assistance in identifying and tracking down the culprit? To minimize the danger that said culprit poses to society?"

"Yes, Mr. Russel has proven to be extremely dangerous, and we need him found as soon as possible."

"I'm not speaking of Russel."

The policeman narrowed his eyes in confusion. "Excuse me?"

"When I speak of the culprit, I do not refer to Mr. Russel. What evidence you have does point to Mr. Russel being the burglar, beater, and arsonist, but he might not be the true culprit even if that's the case."

"I'm afraid I do not follow your logic, Miss Vastra."

"That is unnecessary. What is necessary is that you ask the following question of the witnesses to Mr. Russel's erratic behavior:"

She leaned forward for emphasis, then asked: "Has Mr. Russel recently been in contact with a woman known as Alice?"

Thanks to those old fans who loved the first one so much and are willing to give this sequel a chance!

After all, I intend for this to be a little different than The Angel of Madness. There will be a slower buildup, more intrigue than outright action...and maybe even a little romance?