A/N: I'm sorry this relatively uninteresting chapter is so long. It's more or less the "exposition" chapter, setting up the story and characterization my "new" Alice. I'm sorry if this chapter bores you, but I'm glad I wrote it at least for purposes of characterization.

To make things a bit clear: yes, this is an Alice from the modern day. However, she's only in the modern day/world for this and a few other chapters. Don't you fret, we'll be in Underland very soon! Also, I should let you know, this will eventually be an Alice/Hatter fic. It's pretty much canon by this point anyway!

That's all for now. Please review and enjoy!

"Daddy…Daddy, I had another bad dream."

"It's alright, sweetheart. Everything is fine. It was only a dream."

"But this one seemed so real. And it was scary Daddy. Really scary."

"Well, how about you tell me happened in the dream?

"Well…there was this man."

"Was the man scary?"

"No…not really…I mean…the dream wasn't really a scary dream Daddy. It was bad."

"And why was it bad, sweetheart?"

"Because the man was crying."

"Did seeing the man cry make you feel sad?"

"Yes, but it also made me feel bad."

"Why?"

"Because I think it's my fault."

"Halt! Put down your lances, the round is over!"

The two figures in white suits and masks that stood in the center of the training room floor lowered their weapons at the teacher's command. The taller of the two fighters dropped his "épée" fencing sword and pulled off his mask, his face red with sweat and frustration.

"Phillipe, 4; Alice 15. I'm sorry Phillipe, but you're going to have to work harder if you ever expect to best Alice."

The petite fencer then pulled off her mask, her face also burning but with a grin of satisfaction plastered on it. "Brian's right, Phillipe," said Alice, panting a bit with adrenaline, "You're getting better, but you've a while to go."

Phillipe scowled her (half-playfully, half-irritated) and complained "How is it is that such a small and quiet girl like Alice is such a bloody good fighter?"

"Alice has been fencing since she was six, and I daresay her size only gives her an advantage in the ring," said Brian, none too humbly. "That girl is as nimble as a mouse on her feet. The best things come in small packages, don't you agree?"

Alice only smiled in response as she ran her figures through her pixie-cut blond hair and wiped the sweat off her brow. Compliments like this weren't exactly rare coming from Brian. He had been teaching Alice to fence since she moved to London four years ago, and was with her every step of the way those final years as she learned and progressed. The two of them rarely spoke outside of the fitness center, but they shared a special bond all the same. Brian often told Alice that he had absolutely no doubt that she was going somewhere great with her life, and although she didn't necessarily agree with him, to have someone show such confidence in Alice as Brian did was truly a blessing and a comfort.

"Alice, just a second," said Brian as she started to walk (well, sort of limp) towards the changing room to remove her gear.

"You already know how impressed I am with how much you've learned these last years, as well as by how great a fencer you've become," started Brian, with the usual twinkle in his blue eyes. "As an athlete you can always improve, of course. But, Alice, I think we've come to the point where there is very little left I can teach you."

Alice's smile waned a bit at his words. Was Brian going to ask Alice to stop taking fencing lessons?

Brian must have noticed the shadow cross her face, because he quickly added, "A-And that's why I want to offer you the chance to become a teacher here. You've already learned so much, and I believe you have much to offer to potential new fencers."

Brian's smile grew at the sight of Alice's face instantly lighting up. "So, would you be interested?"

Alice had to struggle to keep herself from acting too excited and keep a mature mind as she considered the proposition. "Then this is a permanent position?"

"Yes. You'll be earning as much as all the employees here. Now, I realize you'll still want to keep your job at the office as well, but I think we could arrange the hours for it to work, especially if you're willing to work weekends," said Brian, unable to keep his own eagerness from showing through his business-like words.

Alice worked part-time at a nearby housing company five days a week, mostly in the early mornings. She dedicated the rest of her day to attending classes at a local college in London and going to fencing lessons in the evening. Alice's mood began to sink a bit as she realized that trading her lessons for a permanent job would pack her schedule tighter then it had even been before. Not that she had much of a choice…

Alice was bumped out of her thoughts by the gentle touch of Brian's hand on her shoulder. He looked at her kindly, but with a look of concern – and looked too knowingly to Alice's liking.

"Alice, are you having some trouble?" Brain whispered softly.

"No, of course not," said Alice briskly. "I mean, things have been a little tight with money and scheduling, but I'm hardly a starving artist, Brain. I have good living conditions and a paying job. I get by. Not to mention the money my father left me…"

Alice paused as Brain's eyes pierced her own with that all too-knowing gaze. It was nearly impossible for her to keep anything from him. Since she had been in London, Brain was almost a second father to her. Despite only knowing her for a few years, Brian knew Alice almost inside and out, continually able to read her every mood and thought.

For the introverted and emotionally-guarded Alice, this could be frustrating beyond end.

"Alice, you know if you want to talk to me about anything, I'm right here. I have always been. Your father was a dear friend of mine, and you are very dear to me too. I realize you are now an independent woman, but even adults sometimes need help," said Brian delicately with a somber but kind look on his face. "Don't be afraid or ashamed you want to talk."

Alice placed her hand over his. She squeezed it lovingly, then slowly pulled it off her shoulder. "Thank you Brian. I'm grateful. I really am." Alice gave him a small smile, then quickly turned her back to him and headed towards the changing room. She didn't want Brian to see the falseness in that smile. And she knew that if she had lingered another second he would have.

It wasn't that Alice wasn't thankful for Brian and everything he had done. She was. He obviously cared much about Alice, and she cared a lot about him as well. He was a wonderful friend and teacher, and she was blessed to have him in her life. But ever since her father's death, it became harder for her to be around him. He reminded Alice too much of her own father, and the memories they shared when he was alive. Almost everything did. It wasn't Brian's fault, but Alice wasn't ready to face her ghosts head-on quite yet.

For as long as Alice could remember, it had always been her and her father. Alice's mother had died in a car accident when she was two years old. She had no grandparents to visit (two were dead, one moved to New Zeeland after the death of her husband, and the other hated both London and children), no relates to invite to Christmas dinner (both her mother and father were single children), and not many friends to speak of growing up. She was always considered "odd" and "out-of-place" by the other children. The only one who ever totally understood and embraced her "oddness" was her father.

He was a businessman, and because of this he and Alice were constantly moving. Alice didn't mind this so much; the adventurous and high-spirited girl loved visiting new "worlds". Her father would often invent stories to tell Alice for every new place they went, such as "The Black-Tailed Rabbit Of Dubai" and "The Green Eyed Swan On The Seine". Alice would help him as he went along, cutting in to add her own details to his fantastical stories. More often than not, Alice and her father would go out exploring their "new world" sometime after to search for the peculiar yet enchanting creatures of their own creation. As a child, Alice always believed what her father had told her- that if you believed hard enough something is real, it would be. Alice, even after failing to find her storybook characters on every occasion, never once doubted her father's words.

But Alice had grown up. And she now knew that, no matter how hard she wished or believed, her father was never coming back.

And Alice had to grow up fast. As a young woman at 21, Alice was completely independent both financially and when it came to running her own life. She owned a small apartment in London and lived only with her cat, Dinah. She had no one to prepare her meals for her, clean her apartment, or help her with money. It had been that way for three years, even before her father died. But it was only after her father's death that Alice finally understood what it felt like to be completely alone.

It was about nine at night when she got off the tube and arrived at her apartment. Her black and white speckled cat, Dinah, cheerfully greeted Alice as she opened the door. After putting down the groceries she got on her way home, Alice picked up Dinah and smiled.

"Hello, dearie," said Alice as she lovingly nuzzled Dinah with her nose. "Did you miss me today?"

The way that Dinah meowed impatiently and struggled to get free implied that, though she might have missed Alice, she missed her food more.

"Alright, I can take a hint," said Alice playfully, putting the cat down before locking the door behind her. Alice then continued on with her nightly ritual: she removed her coat, fed Dinah in their small kitchen, put together a small dinner for herself as Dinah happily ate her own, and allowed herself some time to breathe and relax as she finished eating. Dinah purred and pressed against Alice's leg, her cat's way of saying thank-you .

Not long after eating, Alice sighed as she pulled out her textbooks from the bookshelf in the living room. She had an exam the next day in Biology, and she knew she had to pass it with flying colors if she had any chance of moving on in that class. And she had to move on in that class if she had any chance of achieving her university degree, and she had to achieve her degree if she had any chance of following her father's footsteps and becoming a professional businesswoman one day.

Needless to say, a day in the live of Alice Kingsley wasn't exactly a cakewalk

Dinah meowed irritably, seeming to complain about Alice's constant need to work and gone all the time. She jumped up onto the couch where Alice was sitting and poked her head under Alice's arm, urging her to leave her studies for one night.

"I can't Dinah. You know I can't," said Alice apologetically. Dinah, as if sighing disappointedly, crawled far enough away to where Alice couldn't pet her and curled up into a ball. She looked at Alice with her head hiding behind her tail and her eyes half shut, giving the impression of a catlike pout.

Alice giggled a bit, and reached out to scratch her ears despite the cat's aloof attitude. Though she tried to keep her cold demeanor, Dinah couldn't resist Alice for long. She eventually gave in and curled up closer to Alice, purring fondly. Alice smiled. Silly cat. Dinah was almost human the way she acted. Alice almost wished that she was human. She still didn't have many friends, what with her unforgiving clock table. The only other person her age Alice really talked to was –

The phone rang that moment, and when Alice picked up the phone, she heard a familiar voice through the speakers. "Alice! How you doing dearie?"

Speak of the devil thought Alice, though not without affection. "Hello Margaret," said Alive.

"I've been ringing you for hours!"

"I just got back from my fencing lessons," said Alice, leaning the phone against her shoulder and picking up a nearby textbook.

"Oh, yeah, that," said Margaret, with a small note of playful distain in her voice. Alice could imagine her rolling her eyes dramatically on the other end of the line. "I still don't understand why you do that, Al."

"Hey, I don't criticize your shopping "marathons", so don't criticize my athletic pleasures," replied Alice. "I like it. It's fun."

In reality, though, Alice had always liked the feel of a lance in her hand, even as a kid. Though it wasn't very "girlie" of her, she had always wanted to know how to fight with a sword. Sure, she loved the adrenaline and satisfaction that came from fencing, but a part of her didn't want to admit that she liked the sport because it gave her a sense of comfort. For whatever reason, holding a sword always made Alice feel safer. After her father died, she clung to fencing harder than ever before, as if fighting with a masked opponent would somehow protect her from the rest of the world. The world that delighted in tormenting Alice by reminding her of her father's empty presence at every corner.

Of course, she was too embarrassed to tell Margaret this. Margaret had been a wonderful friend to Alice since they had met at university. She had seen past Alice's "oddness" and instead strove to be good friends with her almost right away. Alice enjoyed Margaret's company, but she was a different sort of girl then Alice: fashionable, outspoken and frank. And as much as Alice loved Margaret, she sort of wished someone could embrace her "oddness" again, like her father once did, rather than just look past it.

"Okay Al," said Margaret, using her affectionate nickname for Alice. "I get it. So what's up?"

"Well," said Alice as she opened her textbook to the chapter on the reproductive system, "I might have gotten myself a new job downtown."

Margaret squealed cheerfully, and Alice had to move the phone a bit away from her ears. Margaret acted like every little thing Alice accomplished was worth the Medal of Honor; it was one of the reasons Alice liked her so much. Margaret, though sometimes honest to the point of being blunt, was (well, almost) always very supportive of Alice.

"The fitness center offered me a full-time job to teach fencing," said Alice, resting the phone back on her shoulder with a grin.

"Al, that's bloody awesome! Are you going to take it?" said Margaret excitedly.

Alice paused a moment before answering. "I don't know," said Alice slowly. "I already have so much on my plate…"

"Hey, more money is always a good thing, no?"

"Yeah, I guess so," said Alice, though she didn't sound so sure.

"Well, I have other good news as well," continued Margaret, sensing correctly that Alice didn't want the job-subject pushed any further at the moment. "You remember my brother's friend Stan, right? The law student I introduced you to a few weeks ago?"

Alice resisted the urge to groan at the sound of Stan's name. How could any news involving Stan be good news? "Yes Margaret, I do."

"He's been talking a lot about you," hinted Margaret.

"I could imagine," said Alice, less than enthusiastically.

"He's handsome," Margaret edged further.

"I know. Trust me, I know," Alice said with a hint of sarcasm and annoyance in her voice. It's not like Stan would have anyone forget how handsome he was.

"He has a good amount of cash…"

"Well, money isn't everything," said Alice, not bothering to hide the spite in her voice this time.

"Oh, come off it Alice, you know he fancies you!" said Margaret, giving up on her game. "Why the hell don't you just go out with him?"

"Because he's not right for me Margaret!" said Alice, her voice rising a bit.

"And why not?" asked Margaret stubbornly.

"Because…because he just isn't," said Alice exasperatedly. "And because I simply don't like him back. That's why he wouldn't be right for me." There were a good number of other reasons as well, but Stan was Margaret's friend, and Alice truly didn't want to hurt her. But lately, all of their conversations seemed to lead straight to Stan, which always led to some sort of disagreement between the two.

"Listen, Al, I'm not going to force you to do anything," said Margaret, failing to sound as cool as she would have liked. "But you can't keep waiting for your Prince Charming to come along."

"I'm not!" Alice almost shouted into the phone, causing Dinah to start.

"Yes, you are. You've often told me how you think that there's someone out there for you. And there is. But you can't expect him to be perfect Alice. You're waiting for a demi-god to sweep you off your feet, and that's not going to happen," said Margaret, sounding more than just a bit judgmental.

That did it for Alice. It was hard enough dealing with the complexities of her life by herself. She didn't need her friends criticizing it as well. And she especially didn't need it tonight. Trying extremely hard to be polite, Alice still spoke quite tartly through the speaker. "Sorry, Margaret, it's late, and I have an exam tomorrow. I should go. Goodnight."

She hung up the phone and sighed. Alice hated it when Margaret brought up Stan. It always ruined everything.

Truth of the matter was, though she couldn't bring herself to say it to Margaret's face, Stan was a downright prick. He was egotistical, self-absorbed, and worst of all, unfeeling almost to the point of being cruel towards animals. Alice knew for a fact that Stan used to shoot his beebee gun at the stray dogs and cats on the street as a kid. She knew this because Stan told Alice herself over a cup of coffee, not acting the least bit guilty or ashamed of his nasty acts that horrified Alice. How on earth could she be in a relationship with a man who would as easily kick her own precious Dinah as if she was a can on the street?

Frustrated, Alice tried to calm herself down by focusing on her reading. She sat on her couch, with her textbook and notebook on her lab and Dinah once again sleeping peacefully by her side. As time passed and the sun set, Alice began to feel her eyes droop a bit. She checked her watch. It was already eleven o'clock, and she had finished most of the reading. All she had to do was make it another couple of pages. She could push herself through that for sure. But the idea of resting her eyes and a comfy bed sounded really good at the moment…

"Meow!"

Alice turned towards Dinah, who was scratching her paw on the glass door leading to the balcony. Dinah kept meowing and looking pleadingly at Alice.

"Dinah, I can't let you out on the balcony," said Alice with a yawn. "You could fall."

But Dinah didn't give up. She meowed even louder and scratched the door at an urgent pace. Alice groaned, and forced herself up off the couch. Perhaps Dinah had caught sight of some pigeon on the balcony that scared her? She looked outside the glass door, and indeed noticed something on the balcony.

Alice yawned, and then chuckled.

"Oh, Dinah, it's only a little white rabbi-"

Alice froze.

Wait.

What was a rabbit doing on the balcony of a fifth story floor in the middle of London?

"…Alice?"