Inside the Castle's conference room, the agitation in the air was punctuated by the quiet sobs of Sarah and the clacks of Cinderella's shoes on the stone floor as she paced. Hands folded behind her back, the Magic Kingdom's leading Princess crossed from the door to the back wall by the tapestry. She'd pause by a window, glance out, sigh, and then start moving again.

"I don't like this. It shouldn't take Jose this long to alert a few people, let them pass on the word around their parks, and then get back here."

For a few minutes, Snow White looked afraid to speak up, but then cleared her throat. "Maybe he's having trouble finding some of the other Representatives?"

"Or he's gotten into trouble." Henry snorted. "We need to get out there pronto. Find him and find the kids. The citizens of Disney have a right to know what's going on!"

Master Gracey gave a grave nod. "Agreed. I thought at most our intrepid team of heroes would be challenged by assorted boogie men, test their bonds of friendship, and overcome obstacles that would force them to discover their inner strengths, and… what not." He rolled his hand in a vague gesture. "However, children, innocents, have now become involved through no fault of their own. Evil has decided to break the rules of the game and now it's our move."

John shot up from his seat and hurled the chair aside. "I'm sick of all the talking. I'm going after my kids, and I don't care what any of you have to say about it!"

Sarah sprang up behind him and grabbed his arm. "John, that thing is still out there! We don't even know what it was or how to stop it, or even where it went. Don't you think I'm just as scared, just as angry as you are? Just as sick and worried? Every second that goes by, I don't know what my children are going through! I don't know what that sick thing is doing to them! But I also have no idea where to start looking. If we're off track by the littlest bit, we risk losing them forever." She gripped his wrist and looked pleadingly into his eyes. "And I risk losing you, too. We need a plan. We need a clue."

"Sarah…" His expression softened, but the look of anguish on his face was still present. "You were always the sensible one." He hugged her tight. "I just want my little boy and girl back." He sniffed, his tears dropping into her hair. "I need to know if they're okay."

Cinderella stood at a window now, looking out over the park. Down below, on the carousel, Ariel giggled hysterically while Eric chased her, making her dodge horses and carts on her unsteady legs. All it took was her blue skirt getting caught on a stirrup, and he'd grab her around the waist, kiss her, and she'd take off again. Cinderella envied them. They were totally clueless as to what was going on…

Or are they? She blinked. They go back and forth between here and Hollywood Studios, don't they? Maybe they've seen something and didn't even realize it… Sarah had said she'd seen tentacles!

"John, Sarah, I beg you to bear with me just a little longer. Snow White…" Cinderella turned around, still gripping a curtain. "Go to the carousel and talk to Eric and Ariel. Ask if they've noticed anything in the least bit odd about Ursula. Tell them to be on the alert and spread the word. Get the dwarfs and the prince out there to pass on the message."

"Right!" Snow White saluted before dashing off.

Henry gave Cinderella an incredulous quirk of his eyebrow.

"Never underestimate a girl who can take charge in a house full of grown men with nothing more than a pot and a soup spoon," Cinderella waved her index finger at him. "Henry, I want you to go to Frontierland and Adventureland." She glanced at the little quiet bear with the overbite next to him. Wendell had been wringing his paws the whole time. "Take Wendell with you so you can cover both at once."

Wendell perked up, happy to be included.

"What about Jose?"

Thankfully Cinderella still had the window open and the curtain pulled back, because two gasping red parrots careened through at the same time and crashed on the table.

"Well, that answers that question."

Iago pushed his plump body up, beak wide open as he took in huge gulps of air. "All right, Joe, end of the line. I'm not towing your feathered fanny anymore!" He hacked and groaned.

Jose bobbed his head in a grateful bow to Iago. "Thank you, mi amigo. I would not have made it without you." He winced as he tried to take a few steps forward. "Oh, my aching back!"

The ghost scooted closer to the table. "What happened, old friend?"

Jose whistled. "It was that loco falcon, Shan-Yu's bird. He attacked me at Epcot, and Iago saved my life. Squawk!" He ruffled his feathers. "I could barely fly, but he got me back to the Castle safe and sound."

Cinderella gently picked up the bird. "Sorry if I'm embarrassing you, but we have to get you bandaged up. My husband always has to mend fencing wounds; I'm sure he'll have you cleaned up in no time."

"You are so good to me, senorita!"

After she left, the others glared at Iago.

The parrot cringed. "What?"

Henry crossed his arms over his chest. "There's a villain attack and you just happen to be nearby? Ain't that a darn good co-inky-dink!"

"I was trying out the roasted lamb in Morocco. You ever ate at Marakesh? Good food, a tad on the pricey side. Look, you think I'd sell out my meal ticket? Not a chance! I don't work for Jafar anymore. I gave that up when I moved to the Tiki Room." He flapped his wings. "Now if you'll excuse me, I've got a cold plate with my name on it. Maybe if I ask nicely, someone'll stick it in the microwave." With that, he was up and out of the room.

The Representatives shot each other awkward glances.

Henry got up and adjusted his top hat. "Are we being paranoid?"

Wendell hugged his broken mandolin before following Grizzly Hall's emcee. "Just 'cause you're paranoid doesn't mean they ain't out ta get cha!"

Prince Charming looked up from his desk when Cinderella entered his study. "Hello, Cindy. How's the meeting—Oh." He looked from her frown down to the animal held in her arms. "What happened?"

"He was attacked." Mindful of Jose's back and wings, she handed him to Charming. "I was hoping you could tend to the wounds." She glanced at the piles of letters on his desk. They were from other Disney parks around the world. He and Prince Phillip had a game of checkers by mail going back and forth. There were also lists of complaints and notes from children asking for autographs. Charming liked handling the behind-the-scenes paperwork; he felt he wasn't much of a diplomat. Plus it left more time for his hobbies. "Things have just gone from awful to horrific, and I'm at my wit's end!"

Charming was already poking through a drawer and pulling out bottles of antiseptic and cloth bandages. "I'm going to need the mice to help me."

"Yes, of course." She whistled and Gus and Jaq were there before she'd lowered her fingers. "Villains are popping up, violating the peace we'd called years ago, and now people have gone missing. I'm starting to think Mickey's abandoned us, or worse. It seems like he left for California ages ago, and no word since." She shivered.

Charming only made a little grunting noise as, with the mice's help, he stitched up one of the worst gashes. "These…heroes that have been called up, I'm sure they'll figure everything out. That's how it always works, right?" He smiled and helped Jose up to his feet. "And you'll be the wise, kind Princess you always are, inspiring everyone around you. That's what you do best."

Jose perched on the prince's shoulder. "Si, senorita, don't lose hope. That was the very lesson you taught us." He whistled.

She tried a half hearted smile, then cleared her throat. "Honey, since you've got Jose squared away, would you mind sending a letter to Aurora and Phillip? We need to tell them about this. If things keep escalating, we'll need their help."

He plunked himself down at his desk and took up a quill. "It would be my pleasure, my dear."

"Also, I need you to act as my replacement for a while." She went behind a dressing screen, (They did have company after all! Even if he was a parrot.), and the sounds of sliding drawers and the shuffling of clothes could be heard. "Just in case someone comes by with questions."

He spun around, knocking over his inkwell and ruining his parchment. "Drat-Wait, what? You want me… out there?" His skin became as pale as his beloved paper.

"Well, yes." She adjusted her brown vest as she stepped out , and then tugged on her long white sleeves. The brown breeches were a little unorthodox, but she needed practicality for this special occasion. "I have to leave for a… diplomatic matter." She barely contained a groan at the end of the sentence. "We need help, someone outside our usual circle of friends, so this is something I have to go out for."

He sprang up and followed her. "But—But you know—Me—People—Me and people. I don't do well with them!"

She smoothed down his hair and then dropped her arms around his neck. "I know that, but I also know you've got the strength to do this. Just like you had the strength to find me at the ball." She cupped her hand on his cheek. He clasped it and kissed her palm.

It was a little known fact that Charming had been positively terrified at the royal ball, hiding it behind a false pretense of boredom. Getting together with some close friends and family was easy, but out with groups of strangers or mere acquaintances? It was why a bride-finding-ball was necessary to begin with.

"I still kick myself for not going out and finding you myself," he mumbled. "Some prince I am. Your Godmother should have turned me into a spineless slug."

"Hey." She put a finger on his lips. "It's in the past. We're together now." She gave him a quick kiss. "Time's running out, so I have to go. Just wait in the conference room in case something happens. You'll be fine. Jose will be here to help you out."

Before she could leave, he had to stop her one more time. Her shoe had fallen off. He scooped it up and slipped it onto her foot. He'd gladly do it a million more times if he had to.

John, Sarah, and Master Gracey were still waiting in the castle when Cinderella returned. Charming, with Jose on his shoulder, took his wife's usual chair. Grinning and wide-eyed, he gave the others a thumb's up.

Master Gracey returned the grin, but then pulled the princess aside. "You're leaving the neurotic in charge?"

She scowled at him. "He's not neurotic!" She glanced back at her husband. "Maybe. I don't know." She shrugged. "We never had him diagnosed." She put her hands on her hips. "But that doesn't matter because I trust him."

Her fierce expression only made the ghost chuckle. "I see your pair of man-pants has given you a matching set of man—"

John shoved them apart. "Can we go now? Please? Your witty retorts are a little less important than my kids." He groaned, muttered something unintelligible that was most likely a curse, and rubbed his forehead.

Cinderella nodded. "Right. John, Sara, meet us in Tomorrowland near the Arcade. Look for clues, but please, please be careful! I need to go get someone first, and then we'll be right there."

After they'd split up, Gracey kept step with her. "Oh, goody. Who are we fetching?"

"You'll see, my mortally handicapped bargaining chip."

"Why am I filled with an aura of foreboding?"

When they arrived at Pirates of the Caribbean, the Ghost Host gave her the most narrow-eyed glare he could manage. His face became partially skull with the intensity of his pouting. "No."

"Yes."

Together they made their way through the fort side version of the queue, passing pyramids of cannon balls, empty gun racks, and big barrels boasting GUNPOWDER on the side. Cinderella couldn't seem to help humming along to George Bruns' score. Although at one point she did turn to Gracey, leaned in close to his ear, and then hummed really loudly just to further annoy him.

He rubbed his temples. "You want to be a villain, don't you? All of the Princess niceness has driven you insane and this is your way of fulfilling your sick, twisted urges to wreck havoc upon humanity." He smirked. "This… rebelliousness… I daresay it would be a turn on if you weren't so inclined to seek aid from that inebriate cad. I have plenty of drunken morons you could borrow, and no compensation required, of course." His pale pink lips curled back into a snarl. "He will ask for payment."

They approached the load area. Along the way, their eyes had adjusted to the darkness, and their noses had gotten used to the water's sharp chlorine-tinted scent. Tapping her closed mouth with one finger, Cinderella looked from the bobbing but otherwise still beige boats to the stone walls. Finding a CAST MEMBERS ONLY marked door, she gestured for him to follow.

"I know," she sighed. "But we need his talents. Besides, you never know what new friends can bring to the table." At "new friends," she gave him that perfect teeth smile she wore on video covers, T-shirts, and just about every other piece of merchandise one could find in the parks.

"Do you automatically do that at certain key words, or are you trying to scare me?"

Still smiling, she blinked and scrunched her nose. "It's a Princess thing."

Their backstage walk led them right where they needed to be: The final scene of the ride. Already they could hear slurred singing and the occasional squawk of a parrot before stepping into the treasure room. Glints of gold shimmered on the walls, reflected by special effects lights and the hundreds of coins, jewels, goblets, jewelry, and plates. The open wooden chests spilling over and the cabinets crammed full of fortunes would make any pirate drool. Sitting in the middle of it all on an elaborate, high-backed rocking chair, one foot dangling over an armrest and the other easing him back and forth, was Captain Jack Sparrow.

Using his finger as a baton, he guided a blue and yellow parrot through the ride's theme song. Finger still waving about erratically, he took a chug from a jewel-encrusted goblet. "Drink up me hearties, yo-ho!" Noticing the Princess, he raised his cup. "Come in! There's treasure enough for all. Just don't touch the rum."

Cinderella chuckled. "That won't be a problem, Mr. Sparrow."

"That's Captain." He dropped his arm and squinted in the faint light. "Ah, Princess, to what do I owe the pleasure?" He gave a swaying bow, almost spilling his drink. "Come to keep me company? I don't think Princey would like that." He winked. "But what he doesn't know can't hurt him."

She rolled her eyes. "Yes, well, as delightful as that sounds, I'm going to have to forego that enchanting offer. However," her tone brightened, "we've come to apologize, and to further make amends, I have a proposition for you."

"Apologize?" This came from both Sparrow and the Ghost Host.

Jack slid to the floor and then stood up into an unsteady stance. "He's here, too?" He sauntered up to the duo. "Couldn't see you there. You sort of blend in. It's spooky." He turned to Cinderella. "I don't abide by dead people. Or undead. Whatever he is. Can't keep it straight most of the time." He shrugged. "I just think when things are dead, they need to stay dead. Preferably buried under six feet of dirt and locked in a box so they can't chase me. No offense, mate. "

She nudged Gracey, her elbow going through him. "He wants to apologize."

Jack grinned and waited.

Arms crossed and eyes shut, the ghost heaved a gusty sigh. In one short exhale, he blurted, "I'msorryIshutthewindowonyou."

"And sent me into a moat, mate," Jack waggled a finger. "Can't forget that. Had to hang out all me clothes to dry, even the boots. And don't get me started on the algae. It's very slimy in there." He shuddered and stuck out his tongue. "Blech."

"He's very sorry about that too, I assure you."

The ghost mumbled, "Yeah, sorry."

"Well," Jack sniffed. "I don't really believe you, but I'm going to be the better man anyway and accept your apology. Now," he clapped his hands together, "what's this proposition? Are you reconsiderin' my proposal?"

Cinderella bobbed her head. "As a matter of fact, we are. We need your help, and in exchange, I will dub you Representative of Adventureland so long as Jose needs time to heal."

"Oh, the little birdy got hurt? That's a shame. I'm all choked up about it." He snatched a jar of rum. "This is all I need, I'll be movin' in."

"Hold on a minute, Captain," she held up a hand. "First thing's first. If you can track down a giant, tentacled monster that kidnapped some children, then, and only then, will you get the title. Let's face it, you have a knack for finding these sorts of things."

He quavered. "Giant…tentacle…monster? But I don't like things with tentacles. They have a tendency to eat me. And they smell bad."

"Well, then," she turned around. "I guess we'll just have to get someone else, then…"

"Wait!" He dashed in front of her. "I'll be in charge of Adventureland?"

"Mmm-hmm."

He went over the options and alternatives in his head, inaudible whispers escaping here and there. "All right, I'll do it. But remember: I get to be the Republican—"

"Rep-re-sen-ta-tive!" Gracey clenched his fists at his sides and stamped a foot. "Representative! Representative! Representative! You ignorant clod!"

"You're awfully stressed for a dead guy, mate. Looks like when she got pants, you got a pair of little lacy underthings and they got all bunched up. If you're going to be throwin' a tantrum, I'll just stay here with my rum." He took a swig.

The ghost inhaled and exhaled slowly. "For the good of the Kingdom and my friend, I apologize and beg you to join us."

"Aw, you do like me." Out of a vast collection, he picked out a sword and sheathed it at his hip.

"No, I hate you with the fiery passions of a million suns. I'd wish you dead, but that would put you on my doorstep, and quite frankly, that's a Hell that even Dante himself couldn't devise."

"Hell?" Jack adjusted his hat, only half-listening. "Been there, mate. I wouldn't recommend it; there are crabs everywhere. Nasty little buggers, look like shelled ticks." He went for another drink. Then he held the jug over his eye and pouted. "Why's the rum gone?" He swayed. "Oh right..." He threw the empty bottle behind him and it smashed on the floor. "Now let's find our beastie!"

BONUS CONTENT TIME!

Here's a scene that was deleted from chapter eleven, taking place while the four Cast Members are on their way to World Showcase. It's not very long, right around half a page, but it slowed the action down and the dialogue wasn't essential to the plot or characters, so that's why it was removed. It's basically an onslaught of trivia and bad (emphasize the "bad") jokes provided by Jake. Plus, there's an off-color pun that I'd place squarely in the PG-13 realm, and I try to avoid that type of humor with this story. After writing it, I also thought I was the only person who'd find Jake's tangent funny. Overall, a weird moment, but I thought it'd be nice to share anyway. So here it is: Jake's Epcot ramble.

As they were passing Mission: SPACE, Jake perked up. "Anyone mind if I pop in for a bit and hassle Gary Sinise?"

"We're on a schedule, Jake," Liberty sighed. "Gary Sinise won't be in there. He just plays a character for the ride video." She smiled at him, trying not to laugh. "And why do you want to hassle Gary Sinise, anyway?"

"Why would I not want to? He's Gary Sinise!"

"Look, if we get the Crown, I promise that on our way out, we'll go into the Canada pavilion and you can go make fun of Martin Short. He hosts that educational Circle Vision film there."

Jake's eyes grew wide. "Oh, I could never do that! Martin Short is a legend!"

Isaac groaned. "I knew your sense of humor was whacked-out, Jakey-boy, but to love Martin Short?"

"I mean, he's a theme park legend. He was in an Disney-MGM Studios show—back before it was Disney's Hollywood Studios—called the Monster Sound Show. Here at Epcot, he was in The Making of Me, the educational film in the Wonders of Life Pavilion about, you know, how our parents made us. Ironically not sponsored by the Siemens company. You'd think they'd be all over that instead of Spaceship Earth."

"Ha!"

"And, not a Disney ride but still here in Florida, he was in Akbar's Tours, a flight simulator at Busch Gardens. Five theme park attractions. Ergo, legend. I rest my case."

"Fine," Liberty laughed. "We'll lay off Martin Short. If we see some mimes in France, you can harass them. Nobody likes mimes anyway."