Notes: Before anyone asks: yes, readers, I am corny and sappy enough to use the idea that shall be revealed at the end of this chapter for a part in Bill and Chessur's plot. It is, in fact, one of the few things I decided I would do immediately when I began this story. (Most of this tale has been/will be a matter of merely "winging it.") Also, forewarned: the chapter I am talking about WILL have a song in it – we've been without music for far too long here – and it WILL be from Phantom of the Opera. I'll leave it to you to guess which one it is...if you care to. However, this all a matter of the future, so, it is that we move on to...

Chapter XV: Drastic Measures

Billnor Creole was locked in his tower, sitting on a box before the window.

In his hand, he held a small, round object, from which came a soft, slow tune.

Bill stared at the music box, as he had been staring, with a soft, thin smile on his scaly lips, eyes lost in another time and place, humming quietly to the rhythm of the tiny chimes that made the box play its piece.

In such moments, he preferred to be alone.

Needless to say, he was very, very upset when a familiar SWOOMPH sounded from behind him. With a deep, throaty growl, he whipped out his saber, pocketing the box and turning fast.

"I told you that if you EVER-!"

He stopped short, and slowly sheathed his blade.

Chessur the Cheshire Cat had his back flat against the door of the chamber, his claws digging into the wood. His eyes were downcast and filled with anger. He was panting like a dog (to quote a phrase), his gasps mixed with a low, rumbling growl, his hair up like small, lead-colored spikes, his ubiquitous grin manic, but not gleeful, baring his teeth in a snarl.

For a while, Bill said nothing, he just looked at the cat with his arms folded, deciding to wait until the feline had calmed down a mite to do or say anything.

About three minutes later, Bill was still standing there, starting to doze off, his right foot tapping impatiently, and the anger in the cat's eyes had been replaced with a sadness, his fur leveling out rapidly.

"I...I know you don't want me here," he said presently, his voice its usual, cool, smooth tone, but slightly broken in rhythm as he started to talk. "And I apologize for the intrusion, but I couldn't think of anywhere else to go, and, when I evaporate, I need to make location-based decisions fast."

"I'll let it slide; your lungs may remain where they are for now. You've slipped up again, haven't you?"

"Yes...well, no...oh, I don't really know...!"

The cat's grin widened, becoming slightly more genuine.

"That's a new feeling..." he murmered.

Bill rolled his eyes.

"All right," he sighed, "tell me what happened."

"We...we began our walk back, and we were...talking. Just talking. I think...I think she's opening up more and more to me as a dormouse."

"Well, that's good..."

"Yes, but what happened next wasn't. I probably smelled it before she did..."

"Smelled what?"

"But that didn't matter," Chess went on, ignoring Bill, "because once it caught on to us, we both knew more or less what to do..."

"What? What caught on to you, cat?"

"She told me to run, but I couldn't just leave her! Sure, she knew how to deal with it now, but..."

"Kitten, either tell me what you ran into, or so help me God I'll mount your head on my wall...!"

"THE CAT!"

A pause.

"...Another cat?"

"Yes," Chess sighed, placing a paw over his eyes. "No relation of mine. We'd met before though...all three of us. Mally, of course, ordered 'Russ' to run, so she could take care of it herself."

"And?"

"Well...as a cat, I'd protect what is mine. But I had no idea what a mouse would do, so I just chose the opposite..."

"You left her to face another cat on her own?" Bill hissed, reaching once again for his blade.

"Of course not, Creole! And even if I had, she might have been able to take care of the problem herself..."

"Perhaps so, but, from what I'm gathering, she couldn't."

"No; I didn't know how I could help by staying, so, I left...straight for the windmill. I told the Hare and the Hatter that we had gotten separated, but didn't say how, and all three of us ran back into the woods to see her. When they weren't looking, I evaporated back over there...changing back into my usual, more fitting form on the way..."

"Oh, naturally."

"And, when I found them, she was practically in its mouth."

Chessur's eyes darkened once more, and he let out another soft snarl.

"Something just...came over me when I saw that...that guddler's scut trying to eat her. I'm...not exactly sure what it was...it wasn't just my usual protectiveness of her..."

"You killed it."

It was a confirmation, not a question.

"Yes," Chess sighed. "I did; I looped a loose vine around its throat and pulled until its neck broke."

"And Mallymkun, of course, saw all of it," Bill finished with a long, deep sigh. "Well, Chessur, you HAVE put your foot in this time, haven't you?"

"I suppose I have," Chess groaned. "I'm sure the Hare and the Hatter told her everything; now she won't trust me in either form."

"Don't be so sure."

Chessur's ears perked up, he looked Bill in the eye.

"How do you mean, lizard?"

"As a cat, you've saved her life. As a dormouse, you tried to do the same. She'll be confused beyond compare, but I think trust is something she'll hold for both of you."

"Maybe," Chess begrudgingly agreed. "But what now? If I know my Mally – and I do – she'll come to me herself to ask why I helped her. Most likely in both forms. What do I tell her? What's my next move?"

Bill rolled his eyes.

"I can't tell you everything," he said. "I'm here to give you tips and ways to get a ring on her finger. It's your choice on how to react to things you do."

Chess groaned. The lizard smirked.

"Look, I'm sure you'll think of something, cat; you always do. And, if it's any consolation, I admire what you tried to do...in both forms."

"It isn't any consolation at all...but thank you, anyway."

The lizard chuckled.

"Well, perhaps it will lighten your mood to know that our 'show' is coming up."

The cat looked at him.

"Oh, I almost forgot! I need to ask her if she'll go with me! Oh, not good..."

"No. Not good at all. But I'm almost certain she'll say yes...at least to your dormouse form. That's who you want her to agree to, anyway, right?"

The cat snorted.

"I'm of two minds, Creole; I'll take her either way. If she says yes to Russehc, marvelous: the plan will continue as hoped. But if she yes to ME, I will be very happy: she'll have accepted me."

"I'll be going to, so that you know," the swordsman said. "As a former guard, I am always on the Queen's guest list; even if this little drama weren't happening, or at least if I weren't involved in it, I'd be there."

"You told me there was one more step before, though. What is it?"

Bill raised an eyebrow.

"You want to know now?"

"I might be able to use it to my advantage; the sooner I can wield it, the better."

Bill eyed the cat for a moment, then smiled in a strange, dreamy way.

"Have you ever been to Drimdok's Hill at sunset?"