Hello all! Sorry this was a bit delayed. You can all blame general and organic chemistry for that. I want to thank everyone who has been reading and reviewing and extend a welcome to some of the newcomers who have recently added this story to their alerts and/or favorites lists! Again, I urge all those who are reading but not reviewing to send some feedback if at all possible!

Chapter XXIX: Awkward Conversations with Royal People

"Miss Hamilton?"

Alice blinked the last vestiges of sleep from her eyes and, slowly, the buxom nurse's form became less of a white, spectral blur and more of a solid figure. She and Hatter had arisen from their rest only minutes before. Luckily, no one had disturbed them throughout the remainder of the night. She was not sure how her father would react to the fact that the young man had shared her bed last night in the room right next to his. Her father had not seen her since she was ten years old and, thus, had not been around when Alice eventually began to notice the appeal of the opposite sex.

"Um, yes?" Alice replied, running her hands through her tangled locks. The dark hair was matted and feeling somewhat greasy, giving her the message that she would desperately need to pencil a shower into her schedule at some point in the day.

"These clothes arrived here for you this morning," the nurse informed her. In one arm, she held Alice's blue dress and Hatter's purple coat, neatly folded. In the other arm, Alice's purple boots were dangling in the air, all polished to a shine the young Slayer had not seen since the day she had purchased them.

Alice was pleasantly surprised at the sight of her clothes. She had thought she would be embarking on a mad search for the Diamond girl whom she had switched outfits with yesterday. Well, that was one item she could cross off her to-do list.

"Wow, thanks," she said in surprise. "I've been missing those." She gratefully accepted the clothes and boots.

The nurse's eyes darted behind Alice to where Hatter was standing, his hair most likely more mussed up than usual after having just woken up; his jacket, hat, and shoes mysteriously missing. A slight flush crept up the back of the girl's neck as she wondered what assumptions the nurse was making. The older woman did not make a comment, but there was the hint of a small, knowing smile dimpling her cheeks. She then inclined her head towards Alice and turned smartly on her heels, closing the door on her way out.

"Well that was nice of…whoever it was who sent those," observed Hatter.

"Yeah," Alice replied absently. She sniffed the clothes, finding that they must have been recently laundered due to the clean floral scent they exuded. "They've been washed, too." Hatter had raised a good point, however. Who had been thoughtful enough to go through the trouble to find the Diamond girl wearing Alice's clothes, wash them, and then have them delivered to the Hospital of Dreams? She could not picture Jack, with all the responsibilities he must find himself swamped with, doing such a thing.

With the arrival of fresh clean clothes, Alice decided she may as well take a quick shower. Hatter, true to form, offered to join her.

"Hmmm," Alice pondered aloud, quite enjoying the picture that painted in her mind. A dripping, wet, completely nude Hatter was a spectacular way to start the day. But showering together was bound to lead down more dangerous roads. And, as the Cheshire had advised her, there were issues that needed to be resolved between them before things progressed. "I'll have to take a rain check on that one," she apologetically declined.

"Yeah, you're probably right. Don't want to give your father a reason to unman me or something," Hatter said, cracking a wry smile.

"My dad thinks very highly of you, actually. I've think you've probably scored up enough brownie points to have some immunity in that regard," she remarked.

"You think?" Hatter asked, his voice sounding serious and hopeful. It warmed her heart to think that he sought her father's approval.

We will figure this out, she thought to herself. Come hell or high water. I am not giving him up.

"Listen, Hatter," Alice said, her voice low and serious enough to cause a troubled expression to ripple over her companion's features, "after we get discharged or whatever, I think we need to…" her sentence was drowned out by the loud knocks at the door.

"Alice? It's me," called out her father.

Groaning with frustration, the girl walked over to open the door. Much to her and Hatter's surprise, her father was accompanied by a man dressed in black robes, a silver club medallion hanging from his neck, and a tri-lobed, black hat atop his head. At first, Alice thought it was the Minister of Clubs—a man who, up until late yesterday, she had been referring to as the bowler hat man until she had learned his true title. But this man was of a shorter, stockier build than the tall, lanky form of the minister and his face was not quite so angular.

"Miss Hamilton," the man greeted, sweeping an ostentatious bow before her. She was not quite sure how to react to the sudden show of deference. Hopefully, no one expected her to extend her hand to be kissed as if she were some grand dignitary.

"Alice, this is Number Nine," her father supplied.

She felt Hatter subtly move himself closer to her. No doubt he did not fully trust any of the queen's former servants. Alice eyed the man, whose dark eyes seemed to regard her with a small degree of apprehension. He seemed perfectly content to keep a few feet separating them, and had his hands clasped together in front of him. She sensed this fellow was of little threat to her, but she appreciated her companion's protective gesture all the same.

"Um, hello," Alice replied.

"Miss Hamilton, His Majesty has sent me to inquire after your welfare and to request your presence at Diamond Manor as soon as you are able. He wants to hear a full accounting of the events leading up to the queen," here the man stumbled, "ehm, former queen's overthrow. Most especially how you apparently survived a fall from the very top level of the city."

Hatter made a peculiar hissing sound behind her. Without even turning to look at him, she could tell he was probably gritting his teeth, biting back remarks he wanted to make about Wonderland's new ruler. For her part, she had a few things she wanted to say. For starters, it sounded as if Jack was not so much requesting as subtly ordering her presence. That rankled her, seeing as how she was not really a citizen of this realm and, therefore, had no reason to give obeisance to its monarch. She also could not help but wonder if there were other reasons Jack wanted to speak to her. He was probably just as curious as her father as to how a girl as small as her could toss grown men twice her size into the air as if they were featherweights.

"Alice," her father interjected, "I know you probably had other plans for today, but I think it would be best if you got this over with. The new king needs to know all he can if he is to address the issue of what to do with his mother and this new kingdom he's inherited."

Leave it to her father to phrase it in such a way that refusing the request made her seem like a vindictive, spiteful child. Alice rubbed at her suddenly aching neck and groaned. She had wanted an opportunity to speak with Hatter, preferably somewhere private with food involved—for her stomach had started to growl hungrily. But it probably was better to just get the inevitably awkward conversation with her former lover over and done with. Logically, it made sense to settle things with Jack before she tried to start things with Hatter. She just resented the way in which he was asking her, by sending some twitchy lackey who looked about five seconds away from bolting. Sure, he was king and all, but he could at least have mustered up the cajones to speak to her himself.

"Okay, okay," she grumbled reluctantly. "Just let me shower and change first. Better try to look decent for His Majesty." The twitchy Number Nine's eyes flashed in alarm at her sarcastic use of the royal honorific, but he was apparently too afraid to rebuke her for it. Her father merely shook his head, letting out a resigned sigh.

When the two men left, with her father shooting Hatter a strange look, Alice turned to her decidedly less cheerful companion.

"Are you seriously going to go talk to him?" Hatter asked somewhat petulantly.

"Well, I am going to have to eventually talk to him. Jack and I have some…unfinished business," she explained.

"Yeah," Hatter muttered darkly, running his hand through his spiky, untidy hair. It did not take a genius to tell he was gripped with an irrational sense of jealousy. Alice was somewhat confounded by it, as she figured she had made it pretty clear things were over between her and Jack. "I just don't think he's quite figured out you're not his anymore."

"I know," said Alice, bobbing her head in agreement, "which is why we have to have the talk."

She could read the worry outlining his taut posture and his roiling dark brown eyes. He was worried she would be wooed by Jack and his newly elevated status.

"The talk?" Hatter arched his eyebrow quizzically. Alice wondered if this man had ever been in a genuine relationship. He was certainly no virgin, that much she could ascertain from the knowledgeable way in which he had comported himself during their make-out sessions. His carnal experience was embedded into his sensual demeanor. But sex and relationships did not always go hand in hand. She decided her questions on that particular matter would be saved for her upcoming conversation with him, which was now going to be occurring later than she had planned.

"Yeah, you know, the talk where we put everything on the table and we…well, I guess more I…make it clear that things are over and we can move on. I mean, I kinda already gave him the hint when we were making that trip to meet Caterpillar, but, uh, we didn't have a chance to talk much about it. It's not like I'm really looking forward to it. This kind of conversation is never really fun, but…it's necessary." She reflected on all the times she had been forced to engage in the talk, and found the number somewhat alarming for a girl who was not even twenty-two yet. Yeesh. I guess Mom was right…I kind of do have some abandonment and commitment issues.

Hatter let out a supremely morose sigh, reaching for his hat and squeezing the brim. Alice figured that hat served as more than a headpiece; it inexplicably seemed to serve as a source of comfort. "All right, love, go and have this talk and don't let him mess with your head. Or me and my Sledgehammer may just forget that he's king."

Alice's eyes drifted to that abnormally strong right limb of his. Images of Mad March's head bursting into pieces rose up in her mind. She was very curious to learn the origins of such miraculous strength. That right limb had done damage even a Slayer had not been able to do. It was a humbling notion indeed.

"Now, now, let's not get you carted off to cool your heels with the former queen right at the start of the reign, mister," Alice chided, waggling her finger.

Hatter smiled weakly. "I guess I'll head over to my shop…or, rather, what's left of it. Clean things up," he said, looking down at himself. His silk shirt was ripped and there were some holes which were blackened around the edges, showing evidence of the burns which still lay hidden underneath the smooth fabric. "Maybe take a shower and change some clothes, myself."

He looked up at her and she felt her stomach churn at the storm in his eyes. There were so many things lying unspoken between them, and he was just as aware of them as she. But he would not bring them up now, not when she was soon to face her ex-boyfriend. His gaze held a promise, however, that she reciprocated. As soon as she had finished things with Jack, told the new king all the things she felt he needed to know, she would make her way to Hatter's side as soon as possible.

"Well, I, ehm, better get going. I suppose I should make sure Charlie's not causing a scene. He was terrorizing some of the male nurses last night," he told her, covering his forlorn expression with a brittle smile. "Though, somehow, he's charmed some of the female nurses. Guess the ladies love the knight in shining armor act even if the armor isn't all that shiny and the knight is completely off his rocker." His tone took on a strange blend of affection and exasperation.

Alice laughed at the image of Charlie chatting up some of the nurses. "Not to mention over a century old," she added drolly. "But I'm glad to hear he's none the worse for wear. Tell him hi for me, okay?"

"I will," Hatter assured her. His eyes ran up and down her form before he finally sighed and closed the distance between them, enveloping her in his arms. "Be careful, all right?" he urged her. "The queen probably still has supporters and, don't forget, some of the tea junkies will be out sniffing for juicy oysters. And none are juicier than you, love." He sealed his request with a chaste kiss.

The young Slayer smiled at his concern. No one had ever worried about her so much before, and she had thought such a thing would be annoying. But, from Hatter, she found it endearing. It showed just how much he cared for her, and she could not help but be somewhat pleased by it. "Oh, come on," she said dismissively, "what's the worst that could happen?"

Hatter brought his hand up to rest under his chin, pretending to stroke the stubble which was starting to stray into beard territory in deep thought. "Hmmm, let me think. What happened the last time you went off with Jack by yourself? What did that lead to?"

Alice rocked her head back, rolling her eyes. "Okay, okay, your point is well taken. I'll be careful, I promise."

She reluctantly steered him towards the door and sent him off with a breathtaking kiss brimming with all of her pent up need, desire, and love (not to mention topped off with a wicked amount of tongue). Hopefully, that would quash any lingering doubts he had about where she stood with him and Jack.

When he left, she quietly shut the door and leaned her frame against it, suddenly feeling quite weary. She was most definitely not looking forward to this meeting with Jack. Where's a demon ambush when you need one? They help me avoid so many awkward situations…

There were few words Alice could dredge up to describe Diamond Manor, home of the duchess whom her ex-boyfriend had never saw fit to tell her he was engaged to. She had visited some sumptuous mansions in her world, not a few of them owned by the International Organization of Watchers and Slayers. None of them had managed to reach this level of elegance. The stonework was a pale, creamy color, which fairly dazzled in the mid-morning sunlight. The estate was furnished with verdant green hills speckled with trees and bushes, all seeming to have been placed purposefully in their spots. The fluted columns which lined the front of the manor house sparkled as if there were diamonds grafted into their construction. A wide, imposing set of stone steps led up to the large oaken doors. After the bleak modern style of the Happy Hearts Casino, she found the warm, simple elegance of Diamond Manor very much a relief.

A small cluster of people stood before the ascending staircase, awaiting their arrival. When Alice disembarked from the Scarab, she was more than a little taken aback to see who fronted the welcoming party. It was the mistress of the estate herself, Duchess Ilaena Diamond dressed in a shockingly modest dress of periwinkle blue. Her flaxen hair was pulled up into a complicated, braided bun, rather than left free to tumble in golden waves of her shoulders. Standing beside her was the Minister of Clubs, apparently trading in his pinched expression of dread for one of wary hopefulness. She supposed he had led a very stressful life, being one of the former queen's top servants, and, thus, held accountable for many responsibilities.

My ex's fiancé is here to bring me to him…way to make this even more awkward, she silently grumbled to herself. Swallowing her discomfort, the young Slayer adopted a steady, purposeful gait and schooled her expression to stoicism. Her nerves, however, were bundles of anxiety and guilt, though she knew that guilt was really not hers to bear. She had not really done this woman wrong. If she had known Jack had had a fiancé from the beginning, she would never have pursued a relationship with him. Alice Hamilton may have been many things, but a home wrecker was not one of them.

"Miss Hamilton," the minister greeted, formally inclining his head. She was ridiculously grateful he did not bow to her as the twitchy Number Nine had.

"Welcome to Diamond Manor," the duchess followed up, her tone neutral. Her green-hazel eyes regarded Alice with that same probing sense of curiosity, but lacking the malice and superiority one would expect. This woman was somewhat of an enigma—even to her own fiancé, as Jack had made apparent. If she felt any sort of ill will towards this "other woman", she was doing very well at masking it. Perhaps she was just saving her outburst of righteous anger for another time. But, then again, this was also the woman who had opened up her home to about a hundred foreigners at the drop of a hat.

"Thank you…" Alice trailed off, realizing she did not quite know how to address the woman. Using the "Your Grace" honorific as was due to one of ducal status did not feel right. Calling her "duchess" seemed somewhat crude, however, and she definitely did not feel as if she were on a first-name basis with the woman.

"I trust you were well taken care of at the Hospital of Dreams?" the duchess inquired. Gods, that woman had the ice queen persona down to the atom. It was no wonder Jack had believed her to be nothing more than a puppet of the queen. But there were subtle signs here and there that the duchess's mind was all her own, and she was content to keep her counsel.

"Well, the second time around, yes," replied the young Slayer, hit by a sudden urge to speak somewhat more brazenly.

A golden eyebrow arched; a flash of intrigue in those eyes of green and gold. "Yes, I would certainly hope so."

"The king wishes to speak with you," cut in the minister, his tone suggesting that they were dallying and it was not appreciated.

"Yes, I heard, hence, I'm here." Alice clapped her hands together in a show of mock anticipation. "So, take me to your leader." She then grimaced at her unintended pun. Andrew would even rip on me for that lame one.

The duchess and the minister led her through the stately hallways of the manor house. The décor of the interior proved to be just as wondrous and elegant, with the Diamond emblem subtly carved into the marble detail as a quiet, but constant, reminder of who ran the estate. There were quaint portraits of people, landscapes, and ethereal creatures Alice had no name for lining the walls. Servants dressed in gold and ivory passed the small entourage by, arms laden with bundles of linens or platters of food. Alice supposed those must be for the temporary houseguests.

"It was very kind of you to let my people stay here for a while," Alice remarked. "Thank you." Her people were likely traumatized by their ordeals and the terrible events which had occurred in the Game Room. This place had a tranquil, therapeutic atmosphere, which would be most conducive in helping the oysters cope and recover until they could be returned home.

"Well, it seemed like the most practical choice," said the duchess. "The Heart palace has been defunct for years since the former queen decided to make the casino her home." Her voice then took an unexpected turn for the faintly sardonic. "It would take probably a decade of cleaning to make it even partly inhabitable for rats."

Alice idly wondered about the other card suits, the Clubs and Spades. She wondered if they claimed noble status and if it were bonds of blood that determined which suit one belonged to, or something else. Had the Hearts always been the suit in power, or was it based on some kind of rotation system? After all, everyone had always referred to the queen as the Queen of Hearts, not necessarily the Queen of Wonderland, though it was understood that she did rule over the realm. Stupid politics. No matter what world you're in, it's always confusing.

Jack was ensconced in a study, hidden behind a neat tower of books set upon a large wooden desk. Two Suits stood sentry at the partially open doors, immediately stepping aside when they caught sight of the duchess and the minister. On the mantle of the fireplace behind Jack was a huge portrait of a man in his fifties with graying blonde hair and bright, green-hazel eyes.

"My father, Duke Adonus Diamond," the duchess supplied, apparently having seen Alice's attention flit to the portrait. There was no need to explain what had happened to him. She had a very strong suspicion the Duke of Diamonds had ended up on the queen's chopping block, leaving his daughter the only one left alive to carry on the family legacy. She could not imagine the fear and pain that young woman must have been hiding underneath that haughty façade.

"Alice," greeted Jack, standing and straightening his crimson suit jacket. His outfit was much the same as it had been the day she had learned the truth of who he really was. There was no crown or any other kind of obvious indication that his status had changed. It was all there in his bearing, a new air of authority burdened by the weight of huge responsibility.

"Hello, Jack," she said in return. After all they had been through she figured she had the right to address him by his first name.

She glanced down at his hands, noticing that he was not wearing the Stone of Wonderland. "Where's the ring?"

"It's safe. Once we are ready to return the first group of oysters back home, it will be back in its place at the Looking Glass," he assured her. He directed his attention to the minister and the duchess. "Ilaena, Number Ten, thank you, but I'd like to speak to her alone."

Out of the corner of her eye, Alice saw the duchess's lips purse, but the tall woman merely curtseyed woodenly and turned to walk out the door, the minister following behind her. The door shut, leaving Alice alone with her ex-boyfriend, the King of Hearts.

"So, I take it this is central command for the moment?" Alice inquired.

"Yes, for the moment," replied Jack, turning his back to her and leaning his hand against the mantle of the fireplace, "possibly for a long while. I do intend to have the palace completely renovated so I can move the court back to there at some point. I just don't know when that will be." He moved his hand to rub at his eyes and then turned. Alice saw there were dark circles under her former lover's eyes. He looked completely worn out, not at all like a man who had just won a great victory.

"Have you slept at all, Jack?" she asked with concern. Their relationship as lovers may be beyond redemption, but she still did care about him and his welfare.

"A little," he admitted, coming forward and around the desk to approach her. "But don't worry about me. How are you doing?"

Alice glanced away from him, unnerved by the intense look in his gold-brown eyes. She focused her attention towards the window overlooking the courtyard. "I'm okay. A bit banged up, but I'll live."

"Good," replied Jack. There was a beat of silence, which seemed to last almost hours. She knew some of the things he wanted to ask, but she was going to let him broach the subjects rather than open the door for him. "Alice, what happened? As glad as I am to see you alive and well…you should be dead."

There it was, question number one that had been gnawing away at his curiosity. Alice sighed, and headed for the chair. If she was going to be telling stories, she would much rather be seated for it.

"You told my mother you had been brought back from the dead," Jack said skeptically. "Is that true?"

Alice snorted. "No, I just stretched the truth a bit to give her a scare," she admitted. "What really happened is that I got extremely lucky. I ended up hitting one of those trees, which slowed my fall down enough to grab onto a branch and presto: no pancake Alice."

"Oh," was Jack's response, sounding somewhat miffed at the simplicity of her explanation. Had he been hoping she had been truly resurrected from the dead just for the sole purpose of taking his mother down?

He walked back around his desk and seated himself back in his chair, facing her directly. "And after that?" he probed expectantly.

Alice met his gaze. "I tracked the Suits who had captured you and Hatter back to the casino, took out the guards at the back bottom entrance, snatched up a Diamond girl and forced her to exchange outfits with me so I could search the casino for Hatter in disguise. Charlie then randomly showed up with his skeleton army which, by the way, was totally without my knowledge." She held her hands up as if to absolve herself of responsibility. "I found Hatter and my father being attacked by Mad March so I intervened and stabbed him with a butterfly knife I took from one of the Suits. That was when I found out about him being sort of already dead, but then Hatter smashed his head to bits with one swing and that appeared to do the trick."

Jack's eyes widened. "You stabbed Mad March…and Hatter killed him?" he repeated in disbelief.

Alice nodded. "Well, killed him again and hopefully more permanently."

The young king studied her for a long while, his light brown eyes restless with growing questions and assumptions. "Then you went to the Game Room after that?" he asked.

"Yes," Alice confirmed, "I wanted to wake up the oysters—erm, my people—and free them. It wasn't my intention to, uh, destroy the entire casino, but…well, things got a little out of hand when the minister came in with all his Suits and then…" her voice faltered. The face of the man she had killed swam in her vision, twisting her gut with horror and guilt. Since that moment she had done a rather impeccable job of not dwelling on it. But talking about the events of the Game Room revitalized it. She saw the hilt of the knife—the knife she had expertly thrown—sticking out of the man's neck and the crimson fountain spouting out around the blade.

"The minister told me Walrus, a man who worked with your father in the laboratory, came into the room and attempted to shoot your father," Jack filled in for her, his voice filled with compassion.

Alice clenched her fists and swallowed, not even having the heart to poke fun at the man's name when she had, quite by coincident, compared him to a walrus in her head. She bleakly nodded her head.

"But you stopped him. You saved your father's life," said Jack.

"By killing a man," Alice muttered. If only she had taken more time to aim, she could have just hit him in the shoulder, which would have made him at least stumble or drop the gun.

Jack let out a heavy sigh. "I'm sorry, Alice. For whatever it's worth, Walrus was a cruel, horrible man. He was the one who usually wound up executing any oysters who had…outlived their uses to my mother."

She appreciated his efforts to alleviate her crushing sense of guilt, but even knowing that did not make her feel much better. There was no undoing what she did, though. Alice would just have to live with what she had done. Although, now she had a slightly better understanding of why Angel—a vampire with a soul who served as one of their allies—brooded over his pre-soul misdeeds so much. Alice had only killed the one man and she was tearing herself up about it.

"Alice," Jack started, his tone filled with hesitance, "I saw what Mad March did to you. By all rights, he should have knocked you unconscious when he…"

"Tried to crack my skull like an egg?" Alice supplied dryly.

Jack shifted uncomfortably. "Well, yes, but not only did you remain conscious, you then fought and neutralized several Suits—men who have years of training and experience in combat under their belts. When I heard about your actions with the White Rabbit agent, I chalked it up to my mother overreacting." He smiled humorlessly at her. "She had a habit of doing that."

"What a surprise," she mumbled.

"But, I saw how you fought, and it was nothing like what I saw in your dojo during classes. Those were moves way beyond anything I've ever seen you do. And your strength," he paused to shake his head in wonderment, "it was unbelievable."

Alice sat very still in the chair, evenly meeting Jack's befuddled gaze.

"I suppose what I'm trying to say is: with the skills you've demonstrated and what I've heard, it appears that it far exceeds the abilities of a twenty-one-year old martial arts instructor," he finished, a slight note of accusation to his tone. "You've kept something from me."

She nearly choked on her snort of ironic laughter. "You're one to talk," she retorted.

At least he had the sense to look appropriately shamefaced. Alice had a perfectly good reason for keeping her job a secret from him so early in their relationship. It was inexcusable to keep the existence of a fiancé from her. Though she supposed he had good reasons for his secrecy as well. The knowledge that he had held the fate of a kingdom and people in his hands did mollify her anger at the deceit…a little.

"Alice, you know why I did not tell you the truth. If there were a way I could do things differently, perhaps not be so deceiving, I would. But there isn't and I was desperate," he argued, his eyes begging for her to understand. "But it hardly seems fair that I be punished for lying to you when it seems that you have been doing the very same thing. You are not all you appear to be just as I was not all I appeared to be."

"Wrong," Alice countered, leaning forward. "You were nothing you appeared to be. I am Alice Hamilton. I do live in Cleveland, Ohio with my mother Carol. I am a Libra, I am a student at the university, and I am a martial arts instructor. None of that was a lie. And I even told you when we were on our way to see Caterpillar that there were things about me you would have learned eventually if you had stuck around long enough. I only withheld certain details about myself because I had to, but I never outright lied to you."

"I assume Hatter," his voice wavered on the other man's name and there was a flicker of disdain crossing his features, "already knows."

The girl bristled at the insult within the subtext of Jack's words. But she forced back any irate responses. "Yes, he does. The situation we were in called for me to admit to the truth, and, oddly enough, he sort of rebuked me for keeping it from you."

That seemed to shock Jack, but he quickly shook it off and pressed on in an acerbic voice, "So, will you tell me now what it was I was not privileged to know before?"

Wish I had tape-recorded the talk with Hatter. Instead of giving him the long, detailed saga she had bestowed upon Hatter that night in Charlie's encampment, she gave him the abridged version. She shied away from going into long descriptions about demons and vampires, saying that there were supernatural creatures in her world that posed a threat to humanity and that she, along with many other girls, had been specially Chosen to combat them. Jack listened, frozen in place, as she briefly described her enhanced powers and abilities.

"Happy now?" she asked darkly.

Jack stared at her in mute astonishment. It was some time before he actually ventured a few words. "You've been doing this…how long?"

"Since I was fifteen…well, I turned sixteen later in the year, but, yeah, for about six years now," answered Alice.

The man wiped at his brow, huffing in wonder. "Good lord, Alice…I had no idea."

"See why I didn't tell you at the start of the relationship?" she pointed out. "Stuff like that tends to make people think you belong in an asylum weaving baskets."

"All the same," Jack said softly, "I wish you had told me. It sounds like a very dangerous job." His eyes fell upon her, full of wonder, trepidation, and worry.

"And I wish you had told me you were engaged," Alice shot back. "Real nice move, by the way, having your fiancé escort me to see you. Totally wasn't awkward for either of us."

Jack's face fell, showing he clearly had not considered that. "Oh, well…"

"Forget my feelings on the matter, which I think you probably did, but what about her? I mean, from her standpoint, you cheated on her with me and now you just sent her off in her house while you are in here alone with me," she rebuked him.

"That wasn't…I mean, I didn't mean…" the king stammered, tugging on his tie.

"I know you said you guys don't have any feelings for one another, but seriously, Jack," she stopped her rant when she noticed the peculiar expression on his face. "Jack?"

The man appeared to have drifted off for the moment, lost in his own thoughts. Then he shook his head and looked at Alice. "It doesn't matter. I love you, Alice."

This was the second official declaration of love he had made to her, and it still failed to incite even the barest fluttery feeling in her stomach as she had always been made to believe it would. All she could summon to feel for him was a strange sense of pity. He did actually appear to mean his words. How ironic that when she had been dating him, she had been doubtful as to her abilities to actually love a man. By his own actions, by leading her into this world, she had undergone a miraculous self-transformation into a woman who could and did love a man. But it was not him.

"I know," she said softly.

"But you don't love me," he stated with bleak acceptance.

Alice sighed. "I don't hate you, Jack. And, given time, I'll get over your deception and like you a lot more again, but…no, I don't love you. I'm sorry."

"You love him, don't you?"

She did not answer that question, feeling it was far too new and personal to discuss with her former lover. But he probably sensed the answer anyway. Alice forced herself to look up at him, and she bit down on her lip as she read the regret and sadness in his face. He probably had not been planning on falling in love during his mission. In a way, she could see how he had gotten one of the short ends of the stick.

"Well, I wish you two all the luck in the world," Jack told her sincerely. The remark took her by surprise, and she was deeply touched by it.

Feeling as if it was a kindly worded dismissal so he could be left alone to nurse his emotional wounds, Alice nodded and gracefully rose to her feet. Jack walked her to the door, his arm casually draped around her shoulder. They shared a friendly embrace which did more towards earning her forgiveness than any words could have.

"Thank you, Jack," she whispered as she pulled away from the hug. "In spite of everything, I am glad you led me here. I wouldn't have found my father or…" Hatter, she had been about to say, but she stopped herself.

Jack just gave her a crooked smile. "Goodbye, Alice."

"Goodbye, Jack."

If Alice had thought that contrarily depressing and uplifting conversation would mark the conclusion of her time at Diamond Manor, she was to be mistaken. The doors of the study clicked shut behind her, the Suits shifting back into their sentry position in front. The Minister of Clubs had mysteriously vanished, leaving the tall form of the duchess alone, leaning against a window and gazing out over the central courtyard deep in thought.

Alice was caught between interrupting the other woman's introspection and merely studying her in this rare, unguarded moment. The moment did not last long, for the duchess soon noticed that she was there.

"That was quicker than I thought it would be," was her cryptic comment on Alice's presence.

"And just what do you assume 'it' was?" Alice could not help but snap.

The duchess shrugged, her eyebrow arching upwards. Her green-hazel eyes continued to regard her dispassionately. "It doesn't matter what I think," she replied, while turning her head to gaze back out the window. "It never has with Jack."

There it was. A few words along with a bit of bitterness seeping into the tone of the woman's voice and she betrayed the depth of her feelings for Jack—feelings which she seemed to think were unrequited. Alice felt her stomach contract with the familiar sensation of guilt. She recalled seeing them standing side-by-side after the fall of the casino, and something dawned upon the young Slayer which had not occurred to her before. A puzzle piece she had not even been searching for unfathomably clicked into place.

"You helped him escape from the casino," Alice noted.

The duchess nodded curtly. "His mother sentenced him to death. What else could I do? I could not watch him die, even though I wished he would die a thousand deaths sometimes for the pain he caused me. But I was there when she passed the sentence…and something within me…" she shook her head, her words rattling off into silence.

"Snapped?" Alice offered.

"Yes…snapped," the duchess repeated, reaching out to lightly drag a long, red nail down the windowpane. "It's so strange. I know he does not love me...not like I…" She stubbornly pressed her lips together, as if she refused to say the word. "Even after he went on that mad dash into your land and…" her gaze flicked over to Alice for a few seconds, "even after that, I just could not stomach the thought of his death."

Wow, I feel like such a horrible bitch, Alice thought to herself. But then the logical part of her mind kept insisting she had no reason to feel such a way. She had not been aware this woman existed at the time. She had not forced Jack to develop feelings for her. But, still, being confronted with the woman who was (still was?) to be her former lover's wife and hear her admit to her pain was not helping alleviate the girl's guilt at all.

"I have only myself to blame," the blonde woman declared grimly. "I played the part of the Queen's Pet far too well. I made him believe I cared nothing but for the power and prestige our marriage could bring me. But I thought he still could see…that he might…" Her hand flew up to her mouth as if to forcibly immobilize her lips.

Alice felt like she was being drawn into another hopelessly awkward conversation and her first instinct was to try to find an exit strategy. But as she stood there, watching this proud young woman attempt to collect the shattered remnants of a broken heart, sympathy and guilt banded together to anchor her feet to the ground.

"I'm sorry," she blurted.

The duchess's head jerked towards her.

"It's not really my fault, I know," Alice continued, venturing towards the window. "If I had known about you, I would have dumped him on his ass. Literally and figuratively."

That last remark seemed to provoke a ghostly smile from the blonde woman.

"But, all the same, I am sorry about how things turned out," she said softly, leaning up against the side of the window opposite of the duchess. Well, about how some things turned out anyway, she silently amended.

The duchess regarded her, questions rising in her eyes. "Thank you," she finally said. "I do appreciate that. But you're right," she threw a menacing look at the study doors, "it's not your fault."

Alice sighed heavily. There was one thing she could offer this distraught young woman. It was a slim nugget of hope that her feelings would not continue to go unreciprocated. Yes, Jack claimed to love her, and she knew he meant it. But, for some reason, the Slayer doubted it was the kind of passionate, romantic love he probably envisioned. He seemed more to love the idea of her, of what she had represented than who she was for herself. And she remembered the troubled look passing over his features before he had told her he loved her. Was it possible he had been grappling with confusion about his own feelings after having learned that the duchess was not merely his mother's puppet?

"Look, give him some time to sort out his feelings," Alice advised. "And try to drop the whole 'duchess' façade a bit. You said yourself you kind of gave the impression of being an ice queen so maybe now you have to drop the guard a little. Open up and let him get to know you. You may have to be a little more direct than you're used to because he's a man, and, well, they tend to be morons when it comes to stuff like this."

"In your world, as well?" the duchess replied, bemused.

"Unfortunately," Alice lamented.

The duchess sighed despondently. "It will be difficult. I've played the part for so long I hardly know where the duchess ends and Ilaena begins. I had no other choice but to lock myself away." Her eyes took on a faraway look; seeing things the young Slayer was not privy to. Alice wondered if she was thinking of her father, which made her also wonder how young the woman had been when he had died.

It took a particular kind of strength to survive and endure through such tragedy. The steely look in the woman's eyes back in the throne room had been but a mere glimpse of that inner resolve. But her suffering and forced role-playing had not killed the humanity in her, though she may have bottled it away so it could be preserved. She had opened her home to an entire group of strangers, showing a keen propensity for graciousness, pragmatism, and compassion. All those traits would make for an excellent queen. Jack seemed to have little idea of what an extraordinary partner he could have in her.

Christ, am I seriously trying to play match-maker between my ex and his fiancé? This is so surreal. Where did vindictive Alice go?

"I will think on what you have said, Alice," the duchess stated when she returned to herself. "And I appreciate your candor. I have seen precious little of it in so long. And, please, do call me Ilaena."

Alice smiled at her. Already there was a transformation in the noblewoman's features, a tangible easing of the tight, controlled mask. She hoped things worked out between the duchess and Jack, but only time would unveil their story. And the girl doubted she would be around to see how it would play out. It was a shame, really. Under different circumstances, the duchess seemed like someone she could be friends with.

"Well, have you plans to return to the city now? You must at least stay for some light refreshments," the duchess insisted, taking Alice's arm and steering her down the corridor in a slow stroll. She had slipped back into the role of the noble hostess, but there was a decidedly more casual air to her demeanor.

"Free food?" Alice asked brightly. "Those are two of my favorite words." Slayers tended to have large appetites, and she was no exception. Luckily, their extremely active lifestyles balanced out their eating habits.

"Oh, I almost forgot to ask," the duchess piped up quite suddenly, "how is that dashing young teashop owner?"

The question was framed innocently enough, but Alice could pick up on the suggestive threads. A silly grin formed on her face, however, just at the mere mention of Hatter. Surely this would also help ease the duchess's mind on how things stood between Jack and the young Slayer.

"He's a little roughed up, but he'll be fine," she answered. Then a thought came to her, a little quirk of Wonderland which had been nagging at the back of her mind for quite some time. It was a delicate subject though, not one she particularly wanted to be overheard by servants who probably were just as stereotypically prone to gossip as all the literature, movies, and television shows depicted.

"Um, Duch—Ilaena," Alice ventured, furtively glancing around, "I have kind of a personal question…"

Just would like to point out that my story purposefully ignores the Buffy Season 8 comics and Angel's "After the Fall" comics, if that wasn't already clear. I might draw some concepts and ideas from those wherever I see fit, but, for the most part, my stories are not compliant with those (mainly because I never fully read them, but also because they get really weird).

Oh and the chapter title was inspired by the title of yet another Buffy episode, but I don't think it's one as famous as "Once More, With Feeling".

I thrive on feedback, so don't hold back!