Not sure if I need a disclaimer; I think the books are public domain these days, but it's not like I'm making any money off this anyway.

I haven't actually finished the game yet, but this has stuck firmly in my head and I thought, 'What the hell, bang it out!'

Alice's Diary, Jan 4 1876:

Three years out of that ghastly hole of an asylum! Hurrah!

Aunt Susan's being her usual helpful self, warning me off that young man I met at whichever dull affair we were at yesterday. So what if Jeremy Greenslade's a notorious rake? I find that edge of danger most alluring... and besides, he was at least as bored as I was, and made me laugh. As anybody who knows me ought to know, that takes some doing.

Anyhow, I shall be spending the evening out of the house. Dear old Aunt Susan, if you could see me tonight!

She walked through the city with the cool, self-assured poise of one who knows well that of all the terrors of the night, none are greater than herself. The show had been amusing enough, and the bar to which she was headed held the promise of a few quiet drinks and maybe a hand of cards. She played a fine hand of poker.

She became aware of the three men shortly before they became aware of her, though she carried on as if oblivious. They approached in what they probably thought was a stealthy fashion. "Now, what brings a well-heeled young lady such as yerself to a part of town such as this?" their leader enquired in a gin-sodden voice.

"I was looking for a good time. Now, if you don't mind, I'm meeting somebody at the Horse and Groom."

"Not so fast, missy," said one of the others, grinning crookedly. "We're lookin' for a good time too. And there ain't many better lookin' than you!"

"Oh, do bugger off!"

"Feisty little tart, ain't yer?" They advanced, brandishing a selection of weapons.

Alice merely laughed, and opened her bag. "Care to cut cards?" she enquired coolly. They paused, a literally fatal error.

They weren't exactly Wonderland-grade, but anybody seeing the remains of the old dartboard in her room would have hesitated to laugh at the idea of peeling apart the layers of a pack of playing cards and inserting half a dozen razor blades in each. The ringleader was struck just above his eyebrow, severing an artery. Another took a card to the throat with similarly messy results. The survivor gave the odds some very brief thought and legged it.

"That was depressingly easy," Alice grumbled, retrieving her cards with care. She hadn't even been able to use the Vorpal Blade, the only souvenir she'd been able to wangle out of the Cheshire Cat. Ah, well.

She entered the bar, getting some appraising looks from the newer clients. The regulars had learned very quickly and in no particular order that Alice A: was not a prostitute, B: took exception to uninvited advances and C: possessed a mean right hook.

"Evening, Miss Liddell," a familiar voice said from a nearby table. Alice turned, and her surprise melted into a smile of genuine warmth, rare for her at the best of times.

"Jeremy!"

He was tall, though a little less so than her. His fine sandy hair invited a woman to run her hand through it, and his features had a youthful innocence that made young ladies simper. "Not a dry gusset in the house," Alice had remarked somewhat sourly when first sighting him. But he was genuinely witty and treated her as a complete equal, an attribute that Alice prized. "Care to join us?" he asked. "Come, sit down and meet some friends of mine. Edward, Thomas, this is the charming young lady I met at that dreary Hunt Ball in Sussex the other day."

"I've been accused of many things," Alice replied with mock-hauteur, "but never charm!"

"You do yourself a disservice," Jeremy laughed. "Care to join us in a friendly hand of whist? If you're new to the game I'll gladly teach you, though it seems a touch unlikely if your reputation is even half-true; the poker players hereabouts call you the She-Wolf!"

"Is that a complement?"

"Depends on how much money you've taken them for lately!"

Alice laughed. "Well, I'm something of a dab hand with cards when I'm of a mind to be. Please, deal me in." The messily expiring footpads a few dozen yards away could have testified to that.

They dealt her in, before having their notecases summarily depleted by Alice's skilled handling of her cards. Edward pocketed his deck and moved to another table after fifteen minutes, Thomas following soon after. Jeremy merely laughed. "Never very gracious losers, those two, especially after four pink gins apiece."

"You on the other hand were the perfect model of gentlemanliness in defeat. Is that a word? Never mind. Perhaps I should buy them a round by way of consolation?"

"I doubt they'd take it in the spirit in which it purports to be intended," Jeremy replied. "Another glass of wine?"

"Why not?"

It was midnight when Alice climbed carefully in through her window, and hastily stripped off the sheer, figure-hugging dress she kept at the back of her wardrobe. She curled up under her eiderdown, smiling slightly as she recalled the banter between herself and Jeremy. "I shall get to know him better," she resolved. "If I really must marry somebody... what the devil am I thinking? I've met him exactly twice!"

"He does possess that certain something, though, doesn't he?" a sultry voice remarked from the shadows. "A young man of hidden depths, I feel."

Alice treated the Cheshire Cat to a glare of which the Red Queen would have been proud. "The day I take guidance from you regarding affairs of the heart is the day I'll take holy orders, old friend! Speaking of which, Dinah has increased dramatically in girth these last few days. Know anything about that?" Dinah the Younger had been a foundling, taken in against Aunt Susan's better judgement. Her getting in the family way by the likes of this specimen would have reinforced Aunt Susan's position no end.

"Now now, Alice, a true gentleman does not kiss and tell."

"I might have known! If you've given her some ghastly feline clap I'll have your fleabitten hide for a hearthrug, you letcherous bastard!"

"Ah! Your words cut deeper than your blade!" He moved into view, and Alice was pleased to note that he had regained most of his former sleekness but none of his girth. The grin faded dramatically. "Alice, I came here for a purpose. Dark forces gather upon the horizon, and soon you may be called upon to fight to preserve all that you helped build. Trust your skills, your wits and your weapons, and also your heart. As that neurotic magician's prop Rabbit would undoubtedly point out, time grows short. You were the saviour of Wonderland, and you must soon become it's guardian!"

"Forewarned is forearmed, old puss. Thank you."

"You are quite welcome. But if you call me 'old puss' once more I shall spray in your wardrobe!" He faded out, grin last.

Jeremy Greenslade scanned the alleyway with great care, gripping his cane until his knuckles whitened. Where the hell was that carriage?

There were at least eight of them in the shadows, he knew perfectly well. One or two he could have handled; the pearl-handled revolver in his coat pocket would have seen off most assailants. A group of eight men was another affair, especially if they had firearms of their own. He gripped the slightly foppish cane he affected, readying himself.

"Spare some change, guv'nor?" somebody behind him said with menace. Jeremy whirled, twisting the pommel of his cane and withdrawing a wickedly sharp blade. Swordsticks are often thought impractical and faintly ridiculous, but this one had enough weight and edge to fare well in serious combat. Jeremy had seen to that. The startled footpad raised his cosh, but the tip of the blade was under his chin before he could strike.

"Throw away that cosh and start backing away or I'll kill you where you stand. Your friends back there couldn't reach me in time. Even a bullet would have too far to travel. Maybe that concerns them, maybe it doesn't, but it certainly makes no difference to your predicament. Now, on the count of three we'll both start walking backwards..."

A revolver crashed, striking sparks from the cobbles. "Oh, bugger," Jeremy concluded.

There was a whirring noise, and somebody screamed. Jeremy took advantage of the distraction to sheath his blade and draw his revolver instead. Fully a dozen shots were fired, panicky snaphots that hit nothing but a streetlight, which exploded. "Run!" a familiar voice instructed. Jeremy was disinclined to argue. Alice had two revolvers of her own, snub-nosed .455s. Jeremy felt his long-barreled .38 to be downright effeminate by comparison. "The police are going to ask some very awkward questions if we're still here when they turn up," she warned. "Come on, I know a shortcut." Slightly bemused, he complied. They ducked down an alley as several enraged would-be robbers thundered past in hot pursuit. In flagrant disregard of dramatic convention, one of the brighter ones doubled back. Alice spun, hurling a card. The man went down.

"My God. You really are a dab hand with a pack of cards, Alice," Jeremy remarked, once he'd remembered to close his mouth.

They ended up crouching on the roof of an abandoned grain warehouse, huddled beneath Jeremy's overcoat as the rain sheeted down. "Where did you learn that little card trick of yours, then?" Jeremy asked.

Alice thought long and hard before answering. "It's a bit of a long story," she began.

"Well, I've got no pressing engagements."

"Alright, here goes."

It took nearly two hours. Jeremy stayed mainly silent, though he asked for the odd clarification. "It's amazing," he concluded. "Too amazing to be untrue. You really are a very complicated girl, Alice Liddell."

"You really have understatement down to a fine art, my dear fellow. So, shall we make for our beds, or carry on enjoying ourselves?" He laughed.

"I know a pleasant little tavern not far from my lodgings. But won't your aunt be worried?" Alice didn't miss the implications, and didn't altogether dislike them either.

"She's taking a cure in Bath. Lead on, ladykiller."

It was midnight when they left, leaning on one another and giggling tipsily. "So," Alice said, slurring her words only slightly, "I suppose that now you've got me drunk you plan to sling my helpless form over your shoulder and have your wicked way with me in the privacy of your lodgings."

"You don't sound especially alarmed at the prospect. In fact, given that I'm at least thirty percent more intoxicated than you, I have a sneaking suspicion that you were plotting something similar against myself." Jeremy grinned. "I find that prospect very far from alarming."

"Well, the thought did cross my mind," she admitted dryly. "After all, there must be something you have that most young men don't. Or at least not as much!" They both roared with laughter.

"Myself, I think that technique, patience and finesse are the most important element. And I like to think I have all three in reasonable supply."

"Well, perhaps I'll let you demonstrate one day," Alice said with a bewitching little smile. "But for now, I'll content myself with the merest sample..." She leant across and gently kissed him. Jeremy responded, wrapping an arm around her waist and pulling her towards him. Alice threw her own arms around him and clung to him as hard as she could, fireworks exploding all through her body and every nerve screaming that a kiss could never be enough for even an hour.

When they parted, it was from lack of breath; they were both gasping as if they had narrowly escaped drowning. "Alice," Jeremy said quietly. His eyes said all that needed to be said. He'd felt it too. This notorious rake had been as deeply affected by Alice's first kiss as she had. Her mind found room amongst emotions she could never have catalogued or articulated in a hundred years for a little pride in that.

"To hell with the merest sample," she said briskly, and kissed him again.