Hi everyone! Sorry I've been away for so long. I've graduated secondary school, moved internationally, and started my first term at uni. Also, sorry this chapter is so long! It's going to be a bit slow getting to the part with the Disney characters in it, but they do appear.

I was also wondering what villains/heros people might want to see, message me your requests or leave it as a review.

And I don't own Disney…. (goes to cry in a corner).

Samantha Diggs was a bitter, bitter woman. Her husband had left her when her daughter was only eighteen months old, and she hated her career in insurance with a passion. She had only taken it because it paid well, and she wanted to provide more for her daughter than her ex's fifty dollars a month ever could. Yet she just didn't have the time to give poor Sarah the quality time she deserved. Whenever she came home from work, she was tired and frustrated, and paid more attention to shaping her daughter into becoming a mature, responsible young woman than a nine-year-old. She scoffed at childish things and kept Sarah away from anything 'too feminine', so as not to be 'influenced into becoming something to simply look at'. When she met her former husband, she had been far too concerned with her looks, and she didn't want her daughter making the same poor decisions that she did.

As a result, she rarely saw Sarah completely at ease when it was just them. What baffled her even further is when she would pick up Sarah from her private tutoring, the girl would be grinning ear to ear and completely relaxed.

Samantha couldn't understand it. She had spoken to her tutor – a young woman by the name of Ms. Bernnet – but she couldn't see how she was so different. Yes, she looked different, and was younger, and therefore probably didn't have children of her own, but they had much in common as well! Similar views and vocabulary (though hers was slightly better, having a PHD in English). They got along like a house one fire, so why did Sarah act so differently around her?

She only wished she knew.

Ms. Berrnet sat upright in her chair as her checked through a mock test Sarah had just completed. As she did so, Sarah read a small picture book on different types of butterflies from her school library.

The young woman had to admit, she was impressed. Sarah had improved drastically from her last term. As such, Ms. Bernnet saw it only as appropriate to reward the girl.

Setting the paper down, she cleared her throat to gain the young girl's attention.

Sarah looked up nervously from her book. Her tutor was done marking her test so had she done badly? Did she score well? Ms. Bernnet was such a hard person to read, to there was no way of knowing just by looking at her.

"Congratulations Sarah. You scored ninety-five percent. Well done." As she said this, her face broke into one of her rare smiles. One of the ones she only kept for only very special occasions.

Sarah gasped. She'd never scored so high on a test before! And to get both a compliment and a smile from her cold teacher was the cherry, icing, and sprinkles on the cake for the young girl. Before she knew what she was doing, she had run round the desk and enveloped the surprised woman in tight hug.

"Oh thank you thank you thank you!" she smiled. Ms. Bernnet detached herself from the girl and shook her head at her.

"No need to thank me dear. It was because you applied time and effort into your learning that you achieved your grade."

Sarah beamed at her. This really was turning out to be a perfect day after all!

As she walked back to her seat, Ms. Bernnet slipped a small piece of paper out from purse. Handing it to her, Sarah noted that it had her name scrawled on it in fancy, flowing script.

"I believe you may want to read this. I would recommend you hide it from your mother though, she mightn't approve of me giving you this."

Confused but interested, Sarah gave Ms. Bernnet a bewildered look before unfolding the parchment. It was a letter.

Ms. Bernnet watched in amusement as the girl's eyes roamed the paper, widening and often re-reading parts as she went along. By the time she had finished, her eyes were the size of saucers and her face had gone white.

"Did you write this?" she asked. Her voice was nearly a whisper.

Ms. Bernnet smirked and shook her head slowly.

"You've seen my handwriting before. Clearly it is not a match."

"W-well…did you get someone else to write it? Like a friend?"

Ms. Bernnet nearly snorted. The only so-called friend she had was a mechanic by the name of Maggie, and her handwriting resembled chicken scratches more than it did actual words.

Judging by her tutor's indignant look, Sarah concluded that that wasn't the case either. So that could only mean….

"So Princess Jasmine is real? Like, from the movie real?" Sarah was excited now, and couldn't physically sit still in her seat even if she wanted to.

"Indeed. Though I warn you Sarah, life is no fairytale. Princess Jasmine lives in a world of her own, with flying carpets and genies. You live this world, and the only way forward in this world is through hard work, perseverance, compromise, and often cunning."

Sarah nodded her head in understanding.

"Oh I know that Ms. Bernnet! Princess Jasmine had to be sneaky to distract Jafar and save Aladdin, and Mulan had to cut her pretty hair to join the army and save China. Tiana too had to work hard for a long time to get her restaurant. Actually, Tiana's one of my new favorites! Ah, I mean Tiana is." Sarah grinned wider, as if correcting one's own grammar was something to take pride in.

Ms. Bernnet was surprised. She didn't think that Disney taught kids life lessons like that. She'd always viewed the company's movies as mere money-making devices to entice young children into badgering their parents into buying the DVDs of the films.

'Perhaps I've not given the entire business the full credit it deserves,' she pondered. Looking back at Sarah – who was re-reading the letter once more –she almost felt a pinch of regret at having been so dismissive before.

Then again, it was all children's films, and she had never truly been a child. Not even at Sarah's age.

"Ms. Bernnet?"

was snapped from her thoughts at the suddenly timid voice.

"Does this mean you're friends with Princess Jasmine?" Sarah asked her, eyes still wide.

Ms. Bernnet quickly shook her head.

"I never met her. I had simply asked Daisy to do me the favor of gaining a signature from her on my behalf."

Sarah didn't look put-out that Ms. Bernnet had not met her idol. If anything, she seemed even more fascinated at the fact she had spoken to the ever-famous Daisy Duck.

All further conversation was cut off when Samantha Diggs swung the door to the small office open and marched in.

"Time to go Sarah. I've reserved a table at a restaurant with a college of mine, so we have to hurry." As usual, her voice was smooth but authoritive. It was the voice of determined business woman with little time to waste.

Sarah jumped off her chair and threw everything into her backpack – including the precious letter from Princess Jasmine. Flashing Ms. Bernnet one last bright, admiring smile, she hopped out the door ahead of her mother.

Once alone, Ms. Bernnet tidied away all of the papers from her session with Sarah, making sure everything when into its appropriate place.

Was just been her, or had Ms. Diggs been glaring at her just now?

She chose to brush off the thought. She knew the older woman well enough that if it was any pressing importance, she would have addressed it.

With her desk once again cleared and ready to be worked on once more, she went to see if her last and final student for the night had arrived.

Sure enough, sat alone in the middle of the waiting room, was fourteen-year-old boy booing his head in tune to his iPod.

Experience had taught Ms. Bernnet that neither clearing her throat nor standing there till he notices would work. Henceforth, she walked quickly and swiftly to where he was tapped him none-too-gently on the shoulder.

He didn't even look surprised as he turned to face her. It was completely routine for them.

"Heya Ms!" he grinned. Ms. Bernnet had to resist the temptation to roll her eyes. If only he was enthusiastic about his studies as he was about he was with listening to his iPod, he might not be one of her more difficult students.

"It's time to work Mr. Bate." She held out her hand for his iPod, and he handed over wordlessly. As said before, this was all part of a routine. It was as solid and unchanging as clockwork.

Two hours passed slowly for Ms. Bernnet after that. Unlike young Sarah, Michel Bate was as uninterested in schoolwork as Ms. Bernnet had been in princesses. His reluctance to do much work set Ms. Bernnet's nerves on end, and pushed her patience to the limit. Rude, inappropriate comments had her gritting her teeth and wishing she could – just once – break all social rules enforced on her and just forcibly shut the damn brat's mouth up with scotch tape.

Not second after the clock on the wall struck nine pm, did Michel jump and toss all his books and loose papers into his tattered school bag.

"Well see ya next week Ms! Try to have fun without me!" he grinned mischievously.

Ms. Bernnet so badly wanted to say that she could far too easily enjoy herself without his presence, but bit her tongue. She was a lady, and lady never said such rude things to people – even children – they worked with. Supposing she could consider herself working 'with' Michel and not against him. She would just have to tell herself this repeatedly.

Michel all but ran out of the office, coming dangerously to slamming Ms. Bernnet's door into the wall.

Sighing in sure relief, she went about her typical after-work tidy up, unable to stop herself from remembering Sarah's overjoyed reaction a mere two hours earlier.

"If only Mr. Bates studied like her," she sighed to herself. It was a nice thought.

Desk cleared and files tucked away in her suitcase, Ms. Bernnet turned to exist – to find Michel leaning against the door frame of her office.

"Mr. Bates," she nearly cried in surprise. "You were meant to have left precisely twenty minutes ago."

Michel shrugged, as if being a smart-mouthed fourteen-year-old out at nine twenty at night was no big deal.

"Eh. My mom called, said her car had broken down. I'd told her I'd get a lift from you."

Ms. Bernnet's eyes narrowed dangerously. Michel wisely took a step back, having never seen such an expression on the cold woman's face before.

"I'm afraid I cannot comply with such a rude demand Mr. Bates. Not only because I did agree to do such – and thus have no obligation to do so – but also due to the fact I do not own a car. If you must know – and I know you will ask – I walk to work."

Michel's face paled.

"W-well I can't call her back! I don't have any credit on my phone!"

Ms. Bernnet felt her knuckles whiten around the handle of her briefcase.

"Then we have no choice. Follow me. You may use my private home phone." She didn't own a phone in her office, nor did any of her colleges.

Michel scrambled to get out of the enraged woman's way as she marched passed him. Turning off the lights and locking her office door, she existed the building. A large number of her colleges gave her back strange looks as she escorted the young boy out of the building. Parents were usually the ones picking up their kids during the weekdays, and Ms. Bernnet wasn't exactly known for doing others favors. Still, no-one chose to say anything to her.

Ms. Bernnet's apartment was a ten minute walk away from her office, and throughout that stretch of time neither the tutor nor the student dared to say anything to each other, for fearing of setting the already on-edge woman off.

Once they had arrived, Michel couldn't help but note that, for all of Ms. Bernnet's prim and properness, her home was an absolute wreck. There was no mess anywhere to be seen – good gracious no – but it was undoubtedly hideous. The paint on the walls was an unflattering shade of grey, and the outdated patterned carpet look like it belonged in a nineteen-sixties retirement home than a young woman's apartment. And the kitchen!

'Can I even call that thing a kitchen?' Michel wondered. It was even more outdated than the carpet, and barely big enough to fit Ms. Bernnet, never mind a chair and table, like most normal eating areas. Michel could only assume she ate in front of the TV every night… that is, if she had a TV. Hell, she didn't even have a TV stand! Only two rickety old side tables stacked on either side of a worn, red fabric couch.

Michel whistled. "Je-sus Ms! They must not pay you a lot at the agency, huh?"

Ms. Bernnet didn't even acknowledge the remark as she went to set down her briefcase.

"The phone is in the kitchen on the wall next to the fridge. Please explain to your mother that I did not agree to this." Her voice was firm. The last part had not been a request.

Three minutes later had Michel stretching the phone cord into the living room.

"My mom wants to know what your address is."

Ms. Bernnet rattled off her answer from her place on the couch. Half a minute later, Michel strode out of the closet-sized kitchen. A strange mix of annoyance and guilt was evident in his expression.

"My mom's an hour away, plus she's still waiting for the tow truck to come get her and her car, it doesn't look like she'll be getting here anytime soon."

Ms. Bernnet wanted to tear the book she had been reading in half. How, just how, did she find herself in this mess? If only that boy had a few manners, he wouldn't be here right now!

Instead of ranting (like she wanted to), she sighed heavily and put down her book.

"I suppose it can't be helped. Have you eaten?

"Nope."

had to use almost all of her inner strength not to groan and roll her eyes. She did, however, purse her lips.

"I'm afraid I do not have food in fridge, so I cannot be of any help." Seriously though, she couldn't help but wonder why he didn't eat before going to their tutoring session. It had been late enough when they started.

Michel rummaged around in his background (which he'd on the hallway floor when he first came in) and pulled out a few dollar bills.

"How 'bout a takeout, eh Ms? I'll pay for most of it!"

Ms. Bernnet turned so she could squeeze her eyes shut without being seen.

Wordlessly, she went to fetch the number of the only restaurant she afford.

They were having a great time! Hades and the rest of the villains were anyway. Mickey had agreed to let them take over the entire House of Mouse just for that night, just as he did every year. They had to agree not to try anything big (like taking it over good) for the rest of that year, but that was okay with them. They had total control for one night, and they could still antagonize the heros for the rest of the year (to an extent of course).

As it was, Hook was manning the reception. On any ordinary day, it would be Daisy manning the desk, but it was their night, and at that moment, Hades was the one in charge. No-one was going to let Jafar take Hook's position, after he had driven away almost all of the patrons the first time. And honestly, where was the fun in that?

Hook, who had been harassing a rather irritated Princess Ariel and Prince Eric, jumped when the phone beside him started ringing.

"What?" He snapped into the receiver. Ariel and Eric took the chance to make a break for a clear table.

"I'm calling to find if you do take away?" Hook pulled the receiver away from him and eyed it warily. The voice on the other end sounded oddly familiar, but he couldn't place a name or face to it. Shaking it off, he waved over Hades.

"Do we do take away?"

Hades shrugged. How would he know? He only ran the place for an hour every year.

"Eh. Sure, why not?" Might as well make a few extra bucks. He could even send Shan-Yu to deliver it, just to scare the poor fool for the fun of it.

She had been smart enough to ask how much the food was before confirming that she did indeed want it delivered. Luckily for her she had just enough to pay for both her and Michel's food. She was still taking the kid's five dollars though.

Precisely twenty one minutes later, her buzzer, uh…. Buzzed.

Went she answered the door, a tall, overly-muscled Chinese man was taking up her doorway. She hadn't accidentally ordered Chinese food had she?

"Your order." The man growled. Ms. Bernnet couldn't help but notice how odd he looked, with grey skin, yellow eyes, and dressed in what resembled animal skins. She chose not to remark on it though. 'Never ask stupid questions, or questions you don't want answers to.' That had been one of many life's rules her parents had taught her.

Without even so much as a 'thank you', she reached to take the plastic bags, only to have them moved out of her reach.

"You looked familiar," the strange man commented. Ms. Bernnet start to feel her eyebrows twitch. She tired, hungrey, and in the mood to play 'hey-do-I-know-you?' game.

"I don't recall having ever met you before," she said. She would like to think she'd remember meeting a man dressed like…. hell, she couldn't even guess!

Once again, she reached for the bags of food, only to have moved out of her reach again. It was beginning to get frustrating.

"No, I've definitely seen you before," he told her. His voice was rough and held no room for argument. Ms. Bernnet felt – no, knew – that if this little escapade carried on, lady or not, she couldn't be held responsible for her actions.

"Well I'm very sorry I can't recall our meeting. Now good night sir!" With one swift motion of the hands, she had snatched the cheap plastic bags out of grip and shoved the required amount of cash at his chest. Before Shan-Yu could even react, the door had slammed in his face the familiar sound of locks clicking could be heard on the other side of the door.

Shan-Yu's first reaction – when the reality of what had just happened sunk in – was anger. His hands balled into fist around the money Ms. Bernnet had shoved at him. What he wanted to do was break the door down and make the infuriating woman pay for her insolence, but he knew that would accomplish. Besides, he had gone up enough steps to realize that there were a lot of people living nearby, and the sign of anything going wrong could easily leave him being outnumbered should a fight occur.

But he was going to talk to the other villains. He knew he'd seen that woman before, he just had to remember where.

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And that's it for now! I promise to have the next chapter up soon. I don't realy think I did a good job of keeping Shan-Yu in character, but tell me what you think. People who leave reviews will get free Chinese food!... maybe. ;)