Usual disclaimers apply. Please enjoy!

Ch. 6 Wardrobe Malfunction

The cast of the play ended up liking the rewrites for the most part, and only took major issue with the fact that Alice had refused to write away Ophelia's suicide. But Alice had heard enough of it and refused to change her mind. So, reluctantly, the Role Holders went along with it.

As far as Alice knew, anyway.

It was a week before the play was to debut when Joker's staff announced that they needed to measure everyone for costumes.

Alice had convinced the schizophrenic "director" to contribute something to the project besides torturing the actors; Gowland's staff was busy building the stage and props, Blood and the Queen were providing workers as stage hands and extras, and Clover Tower had already contributed with the script rewrites. Joker agreed after much nagging. Now, returning to the present…

"Master Dupre, it's your turn."

Blood walked into the changing room to be measured while the rest of the case waited outside. They watched Gowland's staff scrambling around with tools and wooden boards, the noisy cacophony of nails being hammered in, boards sawed apart and orders given filled the air. The smell of turpentine and paint and glue filled the air. There were occasional spurts of laughter and justified outrage as Boris and the twins went around the building area, disrupting as much of the process as they could get away with.

For once, Alice left them alone. Because they didn't have many lines the twins and Boris were bored during rehearsals. A little entertainment, as long as no one was killed or maimed or paralyzed for life, was fine. (Plus, after weeks of trying to keep them all in order, Alice was too exhausted to care.)

The door to the changing room opened and Blood exited. "Alice-sama, if you would."

Alice walked in and shut the door behind her. The two faceless women looked oddly flustered at the moment. Alice decided that she didn't want to know.

"Please strip to your underwear."

Alice did so, and the workers began to measure her. The room was quiet as the women measured, only talking to ask Alice to lift her arms or move her hair out of the way.

"You may get dressed. We're finished."

After Alice had replaced her dress she opened the door and four Role Holders collapsed at her feet.

"What are you doing?" Alice asked dryly, staring down at Boris, Dee, Dum and Elliot, who looked guiltily up at Alice as they scrambled to their feet.

"Nothing," Elliot said quickly, flushing red.

All signs of guilt gone: "I don't know what pervert-hare was doing," Dee said.

"But we were only leaning against the door," Dum finished.

"Me too," Boris added.

"It was you guys' idea to—" Elliot began.

"To what, pervert-hare?"

"Yeah, pink Harvey*, to what?"

The twins were grinning maliciously at Elliot, who was sputtering from the lack of a response.

"Master Airay, come get measured," said one of the workers. Boris went in and a moment later cried out, "You want me to WHAT?"

The door was slightly cracked open.

"Strip, sir."

"But…" Boris lowered his voice. "I'm…not…"

"What is the problem?" the terse voice of one of the women said.

"Um…"

"If it's a problem of undergarments, rest assured. We've seen our fair share of those today."

"Oh."

Alice was blushing badly, while Elliot and the twins were on the verge of bursting with laughter. None of them moved.

A few moments later: "Whoa! What are you doing?"

"Measuring your inseam, sir."

"Do you have to put your hands so close to…" Boris' voice died.

"It's not our fault you're not wearing any underwear."

That's when the mafia members lost it. Boris heard and ran out of the room, yelling, "You guys!" and forgetting his current state of dress.

Alice snapped her head around and Boris yowled in shock, grabbing the first article of clothing he could get his hands on—the fluffy pink-purple boa.

"Boris Airay, what are you doing?" Julius said coldly; he'd seen the entire scene, and was standing beside a stone-still Alice, protectively placing a hand on her shoulder.

"It's not what it—"

"Kitty-cat, what disgusting things are you trying to do to my Alice?"

Boris was now facing an angry mob of Role Holders, namely Peter, whose gun was already out; Julius, who'd yet to draw his weapon but was staring daggers at Boris; and Blood, whose amused smile and deadly leer only made him look more dangerous.

"It's really not what it looks like," Boris pleaded.

"I suggest you put your clothes on," Julius ordered evenly, his voice ice. Boris escaped to the changing room.

"Alice, are you alright?"

She nodded, her face still red.

The measuring finished quickly after that and Boris apologized to Alice in front of all the Role Holders before they all headed home.

"Peter, what are you still doing here?"

The white rabbit's ears drooped and he replied, "Watching you rehearse."

"Rehearsal's over. Shouldn't you be somewhere else?"

"I already finished my work for the day. What's wrong with wanting to see my Alice on stage?"

"That's what opening night is for."

Peter wasn't letting go that easily. "Can't I do something to help out?" It was an oft-uttered question.

Alice sighed, resigned to getting rid of him, for the night at least. "I suppose you could put together some promotional posters or something. Or buy ticket rolls. We still haven't got those."

Peter nodded, slightly more enthusiastic. "I'll start tomorrow. Want me to walk you home?"

Alice pointed to the entrance to Clover Tower, not twenty feet away. "It's right there. I'll be fine. See you, Peter."

Peter stared at her retreating back as she walked into the Tower. Dejectedly he made his way back to the Castle.

*- In case you didn't get it: a reference to Harvey, the six-foot-tall invisible rabbit from the old James Stewart film, Harvey. Haven't seen it in a few years, but it's a cute little film. Google it.

Writing this has been unexpectedly fun, and I've enjoyed everyone's response so far. Thanks for the support.