Disclaimer: American McGee and EA owns the Alice games, and BBC owns Doctor Who.

Chapter 3: Friends and Enemies

The White Queen clapped her hands and exclaimed, "Knight! To us!"

Alice turned towards the distant clopping of hooves and ringing of bells, and saw a brilliant white horse galloping towards her, carrying an armored humanoid figure wearing a horsehead helmet, and carrying a lance and shield. Bouncing against the horse's sides were a sword, a mace, a flyswatter, a shovel, a poker, some brushes, and some bellows.

Alice took multiple steps backwards and to the side, in anticipation of what was coming.

Sure enough, when the horse abruptly stopped, the bell on its forehead jingled intensely...and the rider was catapulted forward, and he landed helmet-first on the paved stone.

"Oh dear, not this again." moaned the White Queen.

"Why so surprised?" asked Alice. "He did it all the time!"

"Yes, but he told us he'd found a way to stop it from happening."

"That's right, Your Majesty!" said the muffled voice of the White Knight as he pulled himself up, took off his helmet, and stood at attention before his monarch. "I attached a harness to myself for that very reason! See, it's right there on my waist! It's my own invention, you know!"

The White Queen looked at the Knight's waist, and sure enough there was an elaborate belt with rings in it. "Why wasn't it connected to your saddle?"

"I was supposed to connect it to my saddle? Maybe that's why it didn't work!" the White Knight exclaimed in shock and embarrassment.

Meanwhile, Alice was struck by how normal the White Knight's face looked, with his light hair and thin moustache, and his relative lack of exaggerated features compared to the rest of Wonderland. Cheshire Cat had his smile, White Rabbit had his ears, the Mad Hatter had his nose, even the White Queen had her thick, woolly hairdo, but the White Knight had virtually nothing distinctive. Which, admittedly, was distinctive in its own way.

"Oh, never mind," said the White Queen, snapping Alice out of her reverie. "Alice wants to go to the hall of recollections, and you are to guide her there."

"Right away, Your Majesty!" the White Knight said with a bow. He then walked towards his horse, and Alice followed suit...

...but when she put her hand on the horse, and nothing happened, she asked: "Aren't you going to lift me up? It's a little hard to climb in this dress."

"Oh we're not traveling by horse. I've got something a little faster: These!"

The White Knight raised his arms, which were holding a pair of bellows with the words SQUEEZE ME written on them in fancy lettering. "It's my own invention! You point the nozzle away from your destination, and-WHOOOOAAAAAGH!"

Suddenly, the White Knight launched himself up into the air! He hung in the air for several seconds, to the point where the White Queen hand to send up a woolly rope to bring him back down. He landed with a thud, and Alice rushed over to him. "Oh my goodness! Are you all right?"

"Rrr...yes," groaned the White Knight, "But I think these are a little too sensitive to use right now." He held up his bellows, which were smashed in the fall.

"...Perhaps the horse would be a better idea?"

"...Perhaps."

…...,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,,...

Alice rode sidesaddle behind the White Knight as they trotted throughout the castle. They crossed narrow bridges over wide brooks, as well as wide bridges over narrow brooks. They rode beside walls and on them, and even trotted up some trees into the canopy. They occasionally had to stop when the White Knight inevitably fell off his saddle, but overall they kept a good pace all the way to their destination.

The Hall of Recollection was a great, marble recreation of her departed father's library, and yet it was filled with nothing at all flammable. The air was cool and damp. There was no fire in the fireplace, but beautiful plants where luminescent insects gathered. Where once there were chemicals and photographs, there were now glass ornaments and glass slides. Where once there were paper books, there were volumes of pure silver. And within these ornaments, slides, and volumes were layer upon layer of memories, painstakingly collected by Alice herself and organized by the White Queen's servants.

Leaving the horse outside, Alice and the White Knight entered and started to look around. The White Knight asked "So, what are you looking for, exactly?"

"I'm in need of assistance in finding a new situation. Is there someone who helped me in the past who could help me now?"

"Helpful persons? That's on the top shelf, I believe. Luckily, I have just the invention for the task." said the White Knight as he brandished his lance.

"How will that help?" Alice asked. In response, the White Knight fiddled with the tip, affixing what looked like a bayonet.

"Now, not only is this lance twice as deadly, but I can hook it onto the rings the caretaker affixed to the books, so I can lift them from the top shelf without using a ladder!"

Surprised at the ingenious concept, Alice looked at the top shelf...but then she asked: "What rings?"

"...What?" said the White Knight as he looked up, and also noticed the lack of rings. Once again, his face blushed in embarrassment, but this time it was tinged with a hint of frustration. "He promised me he'd put them on! I need to go have a word with him. In the meantime, there's a ladder over there."

So, the White Knight left Alice, to find the caretaker of the Hall of Recollections, while Alice awkwardly climbed up to the top shelf, and glanced over the golden lettering of the silvery volumes.

At last, she found her goal, a small volume labeled 'Helpful Persons'. As she pulled it off the shelf and returned to the floor, she noticed it was organized by alphabetically-arranged sections. Upon opening it, she found herself in the 'D' section.

The very first page she found herself on was labeled 'Dr... Who?' at which she giggled. "I never did learn his true name. He kept secrets from everyone, even himself, and yet he saved my life, and taught me how to trust others despite their flaws. He did horrible things in the name of stopping the Cybermen, and the Daleks, and the Weeping Angels. But he makes sure every action he takes served a greater good than himself. Of course, he's off somewhere in the past...or the future, perhaps; whichever it is, I can't ask him."

And so she flipped through the book, in reverse. So she came across names like Dr. Wilson, Dr. George, Dr. Bumby, Dodgson-

Wait, Dr. Bumby?

…..

She backtracked to a silvery page she passed over, and gazed in horror at the name of Dr. Angus Bumby, proprietor of Houndsditch Home for Wayward Youth. Accompanying the text were images of his glittering glasses, and the Venus key he stole from Lizzie's room and used as a hypnotic pendant.

She was aghast, and could only ask "...Why?" Nothing Bumby did had ever been to help her, but to help himself. He helped himself to Lizzie even when she refused his advances. He helped himself to the lamp he used to start the fire. He helped himself to those orphaned children, erasing their memories so they'd have no objection to becoming slaves for London's depraved. And he helped himself to her mind, becoming the destroyer and corrupter known as the Dollmaker, who would have turned her into a mindless, senseless 'doll' had she not recovered her memories in time.

"Why is he in here? Why would I ever consider him a helper after everything he's done? This is wrong, so unbelievably wrong...and yet, this is from my memories, my thoughts! What's wrong with my memories? What's wrong with my thoughts? What's wrong with Wonderland? What's wrong-"

"AAH! THE SERPENT!"

The sudden outburst snapped Alice out of her introspective inquiry, and she looked up to see the White Knight had returned, with a large Pigeon next to him.

"Serpent? Where?" asked the White Knight as he brandished his weapons. He and Alice were both shocked when the Pigeon's wing pointed towards Alice.

"No, you're wrong!" exclaimed Alice. "I'm not a serpent! I'm Alice!"

"LIAR!" the Pigeon shouted, and it fluffed up its feathers, growing to three times Alice's size. "You are one who will destroy our children! You are the one who will destroy everything! Die, serpent! DIE!"

Alice turned and ran, stumbling over her long dress, as the Pigeon lunged for her. Once again it beat her with its wings, and scratched at her with its claws. This time it went a little further: it grabbed her right arm in its beak, trying to rip it off. Only by grabbing a glass memory and smashing it across the bird's face was she able to break free.

The memory was of a riot that took place outside a women's suffrage campaign office, where Alice was applying for a job. It didn't work out because a mob broke in during the interview, and tore the office apart. Now that the memory was broken all over the Pigeon's face, representations of that mob surged into the Hall of Recollections and pushed everyone along in a tide of bodies that Alice struggled to break out of. She tried to steel herself, but she was knocked over...

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

….and she landed on the streets of London, as her hallucination ended and she left Wonderland.

"Watch where you're going!" exclaimed a man that stood over her prone form, and she gathered that her running into him broke her out of her delusion. She apologized, and pulled herself off of the ground.

She calmed her racing heart with deep breaths, and then took in her surroundings. She was in a lower-class neighborhood of London, filled with shoddy buildings, and few landmarks of merit except...

"...The Pawned Queen." And finally an idea surfaced.

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

"It's so wonderful of you to drop by, Alice. A shame your news couldn't be just as wonderful." said Madam Sharpe, Alice's former Nanny and proprietor of the Pawned Queen. Alice had stopped by for a chat, but Sharpe went the extra mile and put out tea and toast in what served as the brothel's 'lobby.'

Once she worked under the abusive pimp Jack Splatter, managing the Mangled Mermaid on his behalf, but now she owned her own business, running the new brothel for one reason and one reason only: to help those with nowhere else to go. And unlike the pimps who only said that to keep their girls in line, she actually meant it.

After all, she was the one who approached Alice with the idea of teaching the girls how to read and write, so they might have marketable skills with which to get more dignified (and legal) jobs. Until then, she kept the business afloat, such as it was.

"I agree," Alice replied, her voice steeped in regret. "I won't be able to help you and the girls out as much."

"An even bigger shame. I was just beginning to get used to the new you. You used to be a lot more shy and reserved, driving away any social interaction with venomous insults and sarcasm. You were off in your fantasy world most of the time, not caring at all about the problems of the real world. Killing off Dr. Bumby made things worse, as you had to focus entirely on your own survival. But now, now everything's different. You're doin' well for yourself most of the time, but you're always finding a way to try and make things better for others. You're willing to take chances on people, let them try to be better. God knows that's more than I was willing to give not too long ago."

"And yet here you are, with what's essentially both a brothel and a remedial school."

"You can thank your work with Rucastle for that." Madam Sharpe said as she poured herself some more tea. "I'm not sure I told you this before, but, when you went public about abuse at Rutledge's, the superintendent bought my silence. Turned out I saw things I shouldn't 'ave while I was visiting you."

"Really?" Alice said with a hint of surprise, as she sampled some toast. "Considering he went to prison anyway, along with his nephews..."

"True, it didn't work out like he thought it would. But I couldn't 'ave bought this place without it. And then I heard you and him went on to fight the good fight, 'till you were pulled back to Wonderland and Rucastle let you go. You pulled yourself out of the rookeries and made the world a better place, while I'd resigned myself to this life. I started thinkin' that maybe these girls deserved a second chance, and...well, you know the rest."

Madam Sharpe set down her tea, and gave Alice a sincere expression. "You've done so much for me and my girls. If there's anything I can do for you, simply ask."

"Well, right now..."

A slamming door interrupted the heartwarming moment, as a man in ragged clothes waddled into the room, and slurred out: "G'day! Does anyone know where I might find the owner of this fine establishment? I've been overworked and my tool needs cleaning!"

Madam Sharpe sighed, and excused herself. "I'm the manager. And if you want to be a customer, I need to go over the rules of the business with you. So, if you'll just follow me-"

The customer didn't seem to be fully aware of Madam Sharpe's words, as he interrupted her and asked "Is she available?"...while looking at Alice.

Both women felt their hearts skip a beat. Before Madam Sharpe could raise an objection, he lunged over and grabbed Alice by the arm. He leered and drooled as he pulled her up, and said "Awful heavy dress for a toffer, but I can't wait to pull every layer off of that sweet-"

"DON'T TOUCH ME!" Alice sharply protested as she punched him right in the face. The drunkard sprawled out on the floor, fortunately letting Alice go in the process.

"...Ooh...you bitch!" he growled as he got up.

Madam Sharpe quickly put herself in between him and Alice. "You didn't give me a chance to warn you – She doesn't work here. Her body's not for sale."

This caught the drunkard off guard. "What? But if she's not...Ooh, she here as a customer, then?"

"Oh heavens no. She's not here for amorous congress of any sort, so keep your distance if you know what's best for you."

"...Are you sure?" he asked, almost looking a little desperate.

"Completely." said Alice. "I have no interest in carnal acts until I'm married. I'm here on a friendly visit, nothing more."

Awkward silence followed, as for some reason even Madam Sharpe struggled to find a word to say. The drunkard finally broke the silence: "So, where are the other girls?"

"...Come with me and we'll discuss who's available tonight, and for what." With that, Madam Sharpe led him out of the room, and Alice sat down to calm her racing heart.

A few minutes later, Madam Sharpe returned with a defeated sigh. "I've tried to make this life as safe as possible for my girls, but the customers are always a gamble. They'll be a lot happier when they don't have to come here for their living." Alice nodded in wholehearted agreement.

"By the way," Madam Sharpe began as she picked up her tea, "you said you were saving yourself for marriage. Why? After all that's happened, I'd have thought you'd given up on men."

"Not entirely. I have abandoned the notion of sex for pleasure. And no matter how desperate my situation gets I will never be a prostitute. But the longer I spend alone, the more I think about the happy times I had with my family, and how I might want a family of my own someday soon. How I might want children of my own. Of course I will have to wait for the right man; someone who's kind, faithful, dependable; someone who can take care of the household and the children when I can't because I'm stuck in Wonderland. It can't be someone who would just leave for work in the day and order me about like a slave at night."

"Ooh, now that's a tall order, from my experience. Wasn't too long ago we didn't legally exist as persons. Too many men are used to being the slavemaster, and they won't give up their power anytime soon. You're going to wait a long time for the right man to come around, I guarantee that. But enough about that; what was it you were saying before we were so rudely interrupted?"

Alice sighed, and said: "Well, I have a list of potential opportunities, but with Mr. Russel gone I'm short a reference..."

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

…...

…..

Well, wasn't that fun? That whore did everything you wanted her to, and for a fair price. So why are you so sullen?

Stumped? Well then let me tell you. It was because of that girl that struck you. The Madam's so-called friend. No one's ever struck you before, and now a woman, a woman of all things, dares to be the first.

You didn't deserve that. You're a big, strong, man. God decreed that woman would be subservient to you in all things. Always obey, never question or talk back, and most certainly never fight back.

And what's worse, it actually hurt. You were cast down lower than a woman, and made inferior. If any of your friends find out about this, you'll be the laughing stock of the town. A lesser man. They will call you names like Lady, Baby, and Girly, or even Mollycoddle. And that girl you like? She'll find someone else. Someone who can give her what only a real man can give.

You need to do something to prove you're still a real man. And I can help you.

Accept me, Cardin Varnham. I am your strength.

…...

…...

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

"So, you have experience with teaching? That's good."

"Thank you, Mr. Renfrew." said Alice, trying to hide the nervousness in her voice. This was her chance for a job as a governess in his house, and there were a thousand ways this could go wrong.

"Where did you acquire this experience, by chance?"

And that was one of them. It would be extremely awkward for her to admit she acquired that experience in a brothel, regardless of circumstances, to a respectable man like Mr. Renfrew.

"...My...former nanny, erm...she had this...friend who fell on hard times. She wanted to learn how to read and write. So nanny started teaching her...and I watched, and helped out when I visited."

She gripped the edges of her dress. There was no way he missed the fear in her voice. He started looking at the letter of recommendation from Dodgson, the one she had used multiple times over to apply for work. He might now notice all the creases from being frequently used.

And the reference that's supposed to be from Mr. Russel, but was actually written by Madam Sharpe. A forgery, that will definitely send her to gaol. Now that his suspicion is most surely roused, he'll tell the difference for sure-

"Well, I don't see any reason why I shouldn't hire you, Alice!"

That caught Alice by surprise. He didn't even bother looking at the reference! But as desperate as she was, she wasn't about to question her good fortune. Eventually she stammered out a "T...thank you," and they stood up and shook hands.

"Come," he said, "Let's get you introduced to your charges."

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

"Connections, connections, there's always connections."

"What do you mean, Madame?"

"Look at the list of stolen property, Jenny. There's the usual missing jewels, silver, and plates, but look at this: Procès de condamnation et de réhabilitation de Jeanne d'Arc. A french text valued at hundreds of pounds. What kind of low-class burglar would know the value of books in foreign languages?"

"Um..."

"The answer, of course, is someone who had a decent education, one more thorough than the typical slum sneakthief. One who knows how to appraise the value of a text from a simple glance, since we know the burglars didn't have much time to commit their crime. The answer is our missing clerk with aspirations of becoming a gentleman, Toby Russel. With the evidence from this crime and his wife's description, we should be able to track him down quickly. Then we'll be one step closer to Alice."

And with that, Madame Vastra dipped a quill into a small bottle filled with human blood, and wrote Toby Russel upon the document. After a moment of consideration, she dipped it again and wrote ALICE in large print.

Jenny knelt down behind her mistress, reaching for the list from Scotland Yard's report on the burglary she was asked to consult on...and instead caressing the gloved hand holding the list. "Madame," she said, "while it is wonderful to see you at work, I worry this 'Alice' case may be turning into something of an obsession. Is there no time in the day for anything else?"

Vastra did not turn her head. "Jenny, you forget your place."

"Perhaps I do." Jenny said teasingly. "Perhaps I need a reminder?"

That tone of voice prompted Vastra to look up from her work for a second. She looked around, and finally realized she was in the middle of the floor in the library, loose paper all around her with marks both English and Silurian, and Jenny looking at her with a fluid expression – somewhere between mischievous and pleading.

"Oh dear, I haven't been neglecting you, have I?"

"I wouldn't go so far as to say that..." said Jenny as the two rose off the floor; "But you haven't looked up from your work ever since we first heard about Mr. Russel. You've barely eaten or slept since then. I'm worried for you, Madame."

"I am deeply sorry to give you cause for such concern, my dear. It's just...this feeling I get sometimes...almost as if, if I neglect this for the slightest second, it will slip from my mind and never return.. But you're right. This isn't worth ignoring my health and your happiness."

Jenny's face lit up in delight upon those words, encourage Madame Vastra to continue: "Tomorrow, we resume the hunt with all our might...but tonight, we rest."

"I hadn't planned on resting tonight, O dark poison of my heart."

Before the two of them could be lost in a fit of laughter, Madame Vastra tightly embraced her 'maid', and kissed her.

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

"The Caterpillar and Alice looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth and addressed her in a languid, sleepy voice.

"Who are you?" said the Caterpillar.

This was not an encouraging opening for a conversation. Alice replied, rather shyly, "I – "

"You replied! You replied!" shouted Peter Renfrew all of a sudden.

"Tell it right!" said Pearl Renfrew.

"Yeah, tell it right!" said Pauline Renfrew.

And there went Alice's attempt to calm Mr. Renfrew's children through storytelling. Three rambunctious and bouncy children who, who never seemed to sleep, and have driven away two previous instructors, who were now Alice's responsibility since the widower Renfrew was stuck at his grueling accounting job all day every day. For a few days storytelling had worked to calm them down...but this particular novel, her novel, raised the first interruption.

"I don't appreciate being interrupted. Now, what do you mean, 'tell it right'?"

"It's your story! You're Alice! But you're saying it like Alice is someone else!"

"...She might be, Pauline." said Alice. "There's more than one girl in the world named Pauline, after all. Suppose I'm a different Alice?"

"But suppose you're not? You talk like her!"

"...Do I?" asked Alice, nervously. To which all three of the children nodded emphatically. She weighed her memories of a shattered Wonderland with their smiling, anticipatory faces, and said "...Very well. But just this once, OK?"

"The Caterpillar and I looked at each other for some time in silence: at last the Caterpillar took the hookah out of its mouth, and addressed me in a languid, sleepy voice."

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

The ingenuity of the criminal mind is never to be underestimated. There are always people desperate, greedy, or wrathful enough to want to commit a crime, and their success (as well as continued freedom) depends on staying one step ahead of the law. For every padlock, there's a skeleton key or a cutter, and for every locked window, there's a knife or jemmy.

Putting bars on the windows to deter thieves who might stand on each other's shoulders, even though it sounds like overreacting, is not enough to deter the ingenious burglar. For instance, they might notice that the building has more than two storeys, and not all the windows are barred on the topmost floor.

Of course, not many thieves would have the tools required to reach such a height, but Toby Russel believed he did. To go along with his chimney-sweep disguise, he brought a series of long brushes connected by rope, effectively making an improvised ladder. To address the problem of attaching it to a surface two dozen meters above him, he brought a spring-loaded contraption to launch up a hook into the gutter. Said hook was padded with cloth to minimize the noise – but just in case, he had a bottle of chloroform on hand as well as some weapons.

Of course, the enforcers of the law know this, and are always on the alert. As ingenious as Toby was, he could not have forseen he would be tracked down by the Veiled Detective herself, and accosted the night before he was to execute his daring robbery.

Her voice was the first thing he heard: "Mr. Russel, your unique blend of brute force and subtlety is on the verge of elegant and stupid. I'm surprised it took me this long to find you – but the footprints, bent gutter, and eyewitness reports of a suspicious sweep ensured that this meeting was quite inevitable."

At this point Toby finally got over his fear and turned to face her. Contrary to the majority of her public appearances, Vastra had her veil lifted, revealing the full reptilian features of her face; even the crests of raised flesh on her head were visible, instead of being hidden by a hood.

Vastra had no desire to hide her true self from her prey.

As if in subconscious awareness of this fact, or simply reacting in fear to her scaly flesh, he drew back in fear. Then, he pulled the bottle of chloroform out of his pocket and threw it at her feet. He snickered in smug relief as he saw the wafts of chemical vapor arise, approaching the slitted nostrils of his enemy...

...and do nothing.

"Stupid it is, then. Chloroform vapor is not an instant sedative."

Despite the fact that he had a club-like implement on hand, suddenly Toby didn't like his chances of remaining involved with this monster, so he turned and ran. This proved to be a horrible idea as well: three sharp objects sliced at his arms and legs, and another lodged itself into his back. The sudden pain caused him to fall forward onto the cobblestone alleyway, and Vastra was upon him before he could pull himself up again. She pinned him to the ground, and bound his hands with rope, before turning his body around to face her.

"Wh- what was that?" he asked deliriously.

"Shuriken. Japanese throwing knives." Vastra explained from her postion of superiority, holding a star-shaped piece of sharpened metal in her hands. "Don't worry, these never cut deep wounds – what you should fear is what I will do to you if you do not tell me what you know about your activities...and your former employee, Alice."

"...Alice?"

"Yes. Let's get this out of the way before I forget it. I almost did forget it, but Jenny left a reminder." she said as she showed the other side of the 'shuriken': it had a piece of paper attached to it, with the word ALICE crudely written on it.

Almost instantly, Toby's expression changed from fear to anger. "What do you care about that bitch? She's in the gutter where she belongs. With all the other whores and lepers and madwomen-"

Vastra cut him off by sharply pressing her hand to his throat. Toby felt talons dig into his skin, almost but not quite penetrating. "That's not enough. I'm not looking for any 'whore,' as you say. I'm looking for Alice."

"You won't find her. There's a million others like her, living off table scraps and stolen goods. Hers is a world of corruption that I want no part of, so just take me to jail and forget about her!"

"You misunderstand, Mr. Russel." said Vastra in a venomous tone. Quite literally in fact, as she forced Toby to observe: she bared her long forked tongue, dripping with green venom, as she continued: "displease me, and the police will only find your bones. Now tell me, who is this Alice that she inspires such hatred? What is it about you that has turned you to your life of crime? Who, or what, is Alice?"

Toby spent a few seconds blubbering in fear, as Vastra's tongue slithered ever closer to his exposed neck, but finally he gave in. "...Alright, I confess. I'm jealous of her. She's everything I despise, and yet she's a better person. She's lower-class, with no aspirations save to help those less fortunate than her. And she did it through stealing. Stealing from my own store so she could teach whores how to read. Help them leave their life of sin behind. She has the faith in humanity that I lost. And even then, she stole. That's what made me realize stealing is the only way to get what you want."

"...That's better." Vastra said as she retracted her tongue back into her mouth. She then stood up, still grasping her captive, but more gently this time. "One last question, before we take you to the constables."

"Yes, yes, of course. I don't know where she lived, or where she is...but you might check around the Pawned Queen. Maybe they might know something."

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

Within a secluded section of the White Queen's castle, a small gathering of mushrooms and flowers enclosed a small moss-covered rock. Upon the top of this rock sat an elaborately shaped burner, from which sweet-smelling incense wafted into the air. The tray contained a tiny recess, in which rested a small cup with golden nectar. It was overall an inviting place, but the area was sealed off to all but the very small. For those, the burner was like an entire building (in fact, a temple), the cup a lake, and the rock a mountain.

A perfect sanctuary for the intellectual Butterfly (whom Alice first met as a Caterpillar) and his guests to gather and calm themselves. Or to pass the time if, in Alice's case, there was no need for calm. He often had guests because, thanks to his delicate wings, he needed someone else to light the coals for his hookah. Alice stepped up to the temple, thinking that task would fall to her once again.

But when Alice arrived, after having shrunk herself down to Butterfly's size, she found that he had another guest already in attendance: a large wasp in elaborate Japanese robes, colored bright yellow, complete with yellow hood!

Alice was shocked, but before she could react with a fight-or-flight response, Butterfly noticed her: "Ah, Alice! So wonderful to see you on such a day as this! Come in, and meet my new friend."

Upon hearing this, the wasp turned towards Alice, and said "So you're the famous Alice, eh? I don't see what the big deal was." And then he turned back to the hookah that sat near both him and Butterfly.

Alice cautiously entered, and sat herself upon a pillow. Then she addressed Butterfly: "Forgive me. I was just surprised. This is the first time I've seen a wasp behave as anything other than an enemy."

"Ah, you've met the samurai, then? How long ago was that?" asked the wasp.

"Some time ago, I admit. It was after they had stopped attacking the Origami Ants, but even then I had the White Queen's guards as escort."

"Ah," the wasp acknowledged with a nod. "Well, things haven't changed much. Only appearances."

"You mean they still-" Alice began to say, but she interrupted herself with an observation: "Where is Butterfly?"

"Off getting some nectar, probably."

Sure enough, Butterfly re-entered the scene carrying a large vessel made out of a leaf, filled with sweet-smelling fluid.

Butterfly never was as calm and collected as he was when he was a Caterpillar. He couldn't smoke as much as he used to, because now his body constantly needed the energy nectar provides. As often as he once smoked, he now sipped from cups of nectar using his long, hollow tongue. In fact, he would have given up smoking altogether if he didn't need it to slow his brain down enough to think.

"Ah, 'regettingalongquitenicely." said Butterfly, not waiting for the smoke to calm him down before speaking. He even smoked at lightning speed, to the point where she never saw the hookah pipe in his...whatever one called a butterfly's appendage.

"I still don't see why." said the wasp with a sigh. "Now where was I?"

"Something about appearances," replied Alice. "If I recall, when the wasps were samurai, they adopted the weapons, but not the code of honor that came with the aesthetic."

"Indeed. It's like they can't think that appearances and behaviors should be linked. I thought they grasped the concept once; they told me if I was so serious about thinking for a living, I should dress like it – wear fluffy robes, and a nice wig to go along with it. Well, I took them at their word..."

Before he continued, he lowered his hood, showing the matted yellow wig that was mounted below his antennae. "...and I thought it suited me well. But when they saw it, they called me a freak, and cut my wings! If it hadn't been for Butterfly, I would have been wingless and wayless the remainder of my short life!"

"That's awful! I had no idea wasps could even be cruel to each other!"

"But I am a true outsider from what other wasps say. If you have a need, use whatever tool can get it. That's what they say. Never mind about the rules."

"A sentiment I wholeheartedly disagree with." said Alice.

Alice barely moved an inch before a burst of wind blew some smoke into her face, and she found Butterfly looming over her. "And yet, you saw no problem with using false references to acquire your position as Renfrew's governess."

"...Is this why I was called here, Caterpillar...I mean Butterfly? So you can chastise me?"

"...No. You do that too much to yourself. Far better to speak of what's right, rather than what's wrong." Butterfly punctuated his statement by sipping from its nectar cup, rolling out a thin black tongue from his mouth, before flying back to his regular perch.

"But what is right?" asked the wasp. "Is it what helps yourself, or what helps others? I've had wrongs done to me on both fronts."

"Good question. I wanted to ask the Lion and the Unicorn about it last week." Then Alice looked at Butterfly, and said "Is that why I've been called here? To discuss morality?"

"...No. You must be your own judge of such matters. It is ill advised to let others decide your values at your age." Butterfly punctuated his statement by drawing a long breath from his hookah, and blowing a smoke ring.

"And yet," interjected the wasp, "when I listened to myself, or to others, I fell upon misfortune. The choice to stay with Caterpillar keeps me safe, but doesn't allow me to do what I want. Sometimes I wish I chose differently."

"Is that why I was called here, then? To discuss my choices in life?"

"...No. For often, fate makes choices for us." Butterfly did nothing to punctuate this sentence. As soon as Alice realized this, he realized it too, and flapped his wings in emphasis.

"Then why did you call me here?"

Butterfly gave Alice a confused look. "...I didn't. And neither did my friend. I was under the impression you came of your own accord."

"...What?" asked Alice, who returned the confused glare. "If you didn't call me here, then who...?"

"SSSSSEEERRRPPPEEEEEENNNNTTT!"

A loud voice, like the horn of a boat, reverberated through the shrine with such force that Alice, Butterfly and wasp alike were knocked on their sides. In shock, Alice looked up, to see the gigantic head of the pigeon looming over Butterfly's sanctuary.

"Again? What's with that blasted bird?" asked a frightened Alice.

When she heard no response, she turned her head around, to see Butterfly and the Wasp flying up to the pigeon's head, in apparent attempt to communicate...only to be batted aside by a giant (by insect standard) wing!

With them out of the way, the pigeon lunged forward and pecked at the sanctuary. The force as the beak struck the incense burner was such that it launched Alice up into the air. She screamed as she soared high, and fell far, onto the pigeon's feathery coat...

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

"OOF!"

When Alice opened her eyes, her vision was obscured by feathers, but much smaller ones than she anticipated. She was also sprawled on top of a living shape that didn't bring the word 'pigeon' to her mind at all.

When she pulled herself off the ground, all the confusion was cleared: She had been knocked out of Wonderland by falling on top of Edna, one of Mr. Renfrew's maidservants, and her face landed in the feather-duster.

"Oh dear, I'm sorry Edna. I don't know how that happened." Alice said, in desperate attempt to save face as the plump woman pulled herself up.

"Oh, s'all right. Was trying to get your attention anyhow. S'like you were off in your own world, there, and-"

"Never mind that," Alice interrupted. "My attention?"

"Aye, I was 'opin you knew where the kids gone off to. 'Aven't seen 'em for two hours!"

Oh no.

I'm glad I got this one written so close to the previous one (Thanks a lot, Mom!). Fair warning, there may or may not be another hiatus with this project, as I get into my final semester of college...but I do want to finish this someday!

And I bet you, my loyal readers, want to know how Alice and her allies can come together to help her through this little predicament!