Author's Note: Thanks to all that have left feedback on this little crackfic of mine. It's been a lot of fun to write.

Five Hours in Ye Old London

Chapter 6: Little Girls and Puppy Dog Tails

Downstairs twenty minutes later, footsteps echoed along the wooden hallway as the group made their way towards the library. Watson had pushed the door open only to stop dead in his tracks at the sight before him. "Oh... My... God!" he intoned in a long, drawn out voice.

John, coming up behind him, peered over his head and did a double take. "Dear Lord!" he repeated in his deep voice.

A high pitched squeal from his daughter proceeded the clicking of nails racing across the wooden floor.

Helen, behind Druitt, heard her daughter's squeal. "Ashley?" she called but could not see anything due to the two men standing stock still in the doorway. "What's wrong?" she said when the two men did not budge out of the way.

"I think I have died and gone to hell," James muttered in a monotone.

"Ditto," John agreed. "This certainly isn't a sight I ever thought I'd see."

Frustrated that she wasn't getting any answers, Helen pushed her way through the men when she heard her daughter squeal again. She stopped in her tracks as soon as she saw what they were looking at. "Oh my!" she whispered, her eyes fairly bugging out.

"Mommy," Ashley squealed, seeing the adults in the doorway, and rushed over, the ribbons in her hair flying. She stopped before her mother with a big grin on her face. "Look, mommy, I'm playing dress up too. Do you like it?" She swung her little hips back and forth to make the skirt swish around as she awaited her mother's response.

"I… " Helen began, unable to complete her sentence as she took in her daughter's attire. Since she had waited until the late 20th century to have her only child, Helen had not really considered what she would look like dressed as a Victorian child. Frankly, it was a bit like a dream gone bad. Had she looked this frumpy as a child too, Helen thought?

Not getting much response from her mother, Ashley looked up at her father, who also seemed to be a bit speechless. "Look, daddy, I have a princess dress too!"

"So I see," he said in a bit of a strangled voice. Seeing his daughter frown at their lack of response, he twirled his finger to motion for her to turn around. The girl grinned and slowly spun around to show off her new dress, enjoying the feeling of her ruffles flying out around her.

Ashley was dressed in a pink floral frock that tied at the waist with a big bow in the back. The poplin dress had long sleeves with bows at the elbows, a bodice filled with lace, and a circular ruffle trim below the bodice. Two small sections of her hair were braided and pulled back into the back center of her head where they were decorated up with pink ribbons, with the rest of her straight, long hair hanging down free. In odd contrast, on her feet was a pair of brown socks. She spun a second time even faster and got a little dizzy, slipping a bit in her socks to crash into her mother as she giggled.

Helen put her arms around Ashley's shoulders to steady her as she looked down into her daughter's bright, expectant eyes. "I am all astonished and know not what to say," she murmured.

The girl took that as a compliment. "I do look pretty, don't I?" she grinned as she took her mother's hands and swung their interlocked hands in and out.

"Very pretty," her father agreed, looking out of the corner of his eye to give Helen a "what a hell?" look. She returned his look with a slight shake of her head.

"And I have a chemise to make my dress poufy like yours," the girl confided, lifting her dress to flash both her parents. Their mouths dropped open.

"What happened to your knees?" John asked, alarmed at the yellow and purple bruises that had taken form on the top part her knees.

Younger Helen stood up from where she sat at the round oak table. "We had a little accident in the kitchen," she hesitantly explained.

The three adults standing before the doorway stared at her. "What kind of accident," they all asked at the same time.

"And why are you in a different dress?" Watson asked, his keen eyes roving over her curvy figure that was now draped in a soft yellow dress with blue trim.

"You let her cook, didn't you?" John accused.

The blonde folded her hands together and gave them nervous look. "No, she did not do the cooking. And the accident was not serious. Ashley hit her knees on the table and we both inadvertently ended up with cake, jam and sugar on our clothing."

"It was Winston's fault," Ashley blamed. "He licked my toes! And he ate my shoes too!"

"Who's Winston?" John asked in confusion.

"My dog," James groaned, finally shaking out of his momentary stupor. "What have you done to my dog?" he demanded, his hands flying out before him in agitation.

"Winston looks adorable, doesn't he, James?" young Helen teased. Her voice was tinged with humor and the corners of her eyes crinkled in laughter as she watched James's horrified reaction to his dog in drag.

Winston looked up at his owner, his bottom overbite visible above his hanging jowls and his pushed up nose gave the dog's face a pitiful "I know, I'm hideous" expression. He was wearing Ashley's discarded pink tutu around his waist and his leather collar was mostly covered by Ashley's pink and orange ribbons. Imagine a very homely, short-legged, dumpy, slightly drooling ballerina and that would be Winston in his current state.

"Isn't he cute?" Ashley cooed, letting go of her mother's hands and going to sit down in front of the dog to pat him on the head.

Helen and John had been so preoccupied with Ashley's appearance that until now they had not noticed the bulldog resting before the fireplace. Both burst out laughing and the dog lowered his head as if ashamed of his appearance.

"Stop laughing at him," James huffed as he pushed past them to walk over to the blonde as she took a seat near the child and dog. "He's going to be scarred for life. I know I am!" he groaned and flopped into a nearby chair. Winston stood up and walked over to his master, his plodding gait causing the tutu to swing back and forth gaily as he walked. He stood up on his hind legs, placed his forelegs on Watson's thighs and gave a pitiful, "Woof?" The view from behind was of a pink tutu-ed furry butt with a short stubby tail.

John and both Helens burst into laughter again at the hilarious sight, and even James was unable to stop a chuckle.

"See, I told you he was cute," Ashley squealed and went over to hug the dog from behind tightly to herself. Winston's eyes bulged and his tongue lolled out the side of his mouth with a loud "hrfffft!"

"Darling, don't strangle the dog," Helen instructed as she wiped at her eyes. She hadn't laughed so hard in several days and felt herself truly relax as she rested her head against John's shoulder.

The girl let go of the dog, allowing him to drop back on all fours before seating himself next to Watson's feet. Ashley turned to her parents, her little eyes shining hopefully. "Can we take him home?" she pleaded, putting her little hands together. "Please, please, please?"

"Absolutely not!" Helen and John replied, shaking their heads so hard they ended up knocking heads.

"Ouch!" Helen muttered, rubbing the left side of her head as she gave John a grumpy look.

Druitt mirrored her by rubbing his right cheek and muttered, "Sorry."

"But I really like him," their daughter whined. "And he really likes me. He wants to come home with me, don't you, Winston?" she cooed as she looked down at the hapless bulldog. Winston gave his owner a big eyed look and dropped his head on Watson's shoes, placing a paw over his eyes. "Rrrrrr?" he whimpered under his paw. If the human child took him home there was no telling what nightmare outfits he would end up in. He could end up in bonnets and bloomers. Oh the horror!

James smiled down at his little friend's reaction to the suggestion of a new owner. "I believe that would be a no," he interpreted.

Helen sighed as she watched her daughter's lower lip protrude out further in an obvious pout. "Ashley, you cannot take Winston home. He belongs here with James. You don't want to make James sad by taking away his pet, do you?" she tried to reason with her stubborn daughter. She and John exchanged knowing glances as they took seats at the table and waited for whatever drama was about to come.

Ashley's bottom lip waivered and her eyes started to water up as she scuffed her toe in front of her and gave Watson a woebegone look. "No… I don't want to make him sad." She gave a loud sniff. "I just really like Winston," she said pitifully, giving her parents, then James big doe eyes in the hopes they would cave and give her the dog.

"James has raised Winston from a puppy," young Helen kindly told the child. "They would both be very unhappy if they are separated." She reached over and stroked Ashley's cheek. "But you can play with Winston while you here. I am sure he would like that," she suggested.

At the sound of snoring, James looked down to find the bulldog passed out on his side, legs sticking out around his fat stomach. The corner of his mouth pulled up in a lopsided grin. The child must have worn the dog out. "I think you will have to wait until he has had his nap," James softly told the child as she frowned down at the sleeping dog. "Perhaps we can find you something else to play with?"

"How about we have tea and snacks?" John threw out, eyeing the spread on the table with interest. He had not realized how hungry he was until his mouth began watering at the sight of the sandwiches.

The girl's eyes cleared up as a new idea came to her. "We can play tea party!" she squealed.

Helen smiled, her mouth also starting to water. "Tea sounds lovely."

"First, daddy needs to dress up too," Ashley concluded, scrutinizing her father's leather outfit.

Caught off guard, John started, huffing out, "What?" Both Helens gave out a laugh at his reaction.

"You have to dress up too," his daughter insisted, her mouth turning down into a small frown.

John shook his head. "I think not."

Hands on her hips, his daughter bossily said, "We're all playing dress up except you. Even Winston is dressed." Daddy was being awfully silly about not wanting to dress up she thought. "No dressing up, no scones," she threatened, looking so much like a miniature version of her mother that both men looked at one another and chortled.

"It's a dead on impersonation," James remarked as he smirked at Helen, who narrowed her eyes at him.

John gave another soft laugh. "Isn't it, though?"

"It's not funny," the child huffed. "We're playing dress up tea party. If you don't want to play you can go to your room," she ordered and pointed to the door.

John gave his daughter an unfavorable look. "Watch that tone, young lady. You do not tell your elders to go to their room."

Ashley pursed her lips, trying to decide whether she wanted to tempt her father's temper further or cave in.

Young Helen intervened instead. "Ashley, I do not believe there are any clothes here big enough to fit your father. But James's hat is on the coat rack by the door. Perhaps John could wear that?" She sat up a little straighter in defiance as Druitt frowned his displeasure at that suggestion.

"What a good compromise," Helen said, giving John a firm look that said "do it or else."

"Excellent," James agreed, giving John a smug smile.

Ashley grinned. "Okay! Daddy put on the hat," she ordered.

John groaned. "Do I have to? Seriously?"

"Yes!" Ashley and Helen insisted and smiled at one another.

"Fine," Druitt grumbled and went to retrieve the Deerstalker hat. He flopped loudly back into his chair and slapped the hat onto his head unceremoniously. The hat looked ridiculous and his pout only accentuated its silliness. The other adults openly snickered at him and he responded by giving each a death glare in turn.

"Aw, you look so cute, daddy," Ashley praised and came over to climb into his lap. John's bad humor waned as his daughter snuggled against him, turning her head to beam up at him. She reached up and touched the brim of the hat. "I never saw a hat like this before."

"That's because no one in their right mind wears them," he commented, pointedly looking at Watson.

James smirked back. "So then it's perfect for the likes of you."

"Wow. I leave you lot alone for a short time and you all go prehistoric on me," Nikola announced as he walked into the room. "Nice hat," he snickered at Druitt as he approached the group. He then looked down at the dog sleeping by Watson's foot and laughed aloud. "Is that a dog?"

"That's Winston," Ashley told him. "I want to take him home but Mommy said I couldn't," the child ratted out to her godfather.

"Just as well," Nikola agreed, "he'd be midget free range nosh to the residents of the Sanctuary."

"Where have you been, Nikola?" Helen inquired, as if she didn't know.

Tesla gave her toothy grin as he gripped the bottles of fine wine he held in each hand. He then turned to her younger counterpart. "Hello again, Helen. A new dress I see?" He frowned slightly as he scrutinized her dress. "A pity about the color," he murmured.

"What's wrong with the color?" she asked, looking down at her dress. She thought it a rather pretty dress on her.

"It's not red," her older counterpart filled in, giving Nikola a knowing look. He flashed his most charming smile at her in appreciation for her remembering how much he liked her in red dresses. James eyed the two curiously, wondering what they were talking about, while Druitt gave the vampire a suspicious look.

"You're just in time for our tea party," his godchild told him as she pointed to the empty chair between the two Helens.

Nikola continued to grin as he seated himself, placing the two bottles in front of him. "Munchies made by favorite godchild and the best seat in the house," he said as he gave both Helens a little leer. "What more could a man ask for."

Ashley wrinkled up her little nose. "I'm your only godchild, aren't I?"

"Hence, you are my favorite," Nikola quipped and gave her a smile.

John gave him a smug look. "If you want to eat you have to dress up."

Nikola smirked back. "Is that why you look like Humpty Dumpty wearing a ridiculous hat?" The other adults sniggered and it was just as well Ashley was seated in his lap for Druitt looked like he wanted to reach over and bash the vampire with one of the wine bottles.

"Enough talking," Ashley proclaimed as she threw her little hands in the air. "It's tea party time!"

"He has to put on a hat first," John prompted his daughter. If he had to look stupid so did Tesla.

Reaching for the little plates, his daughter disappointed him by shaking her head. "Nah. Let's just have tea and scones," she offhandedly announced.

"What?" John protested loudly. "Why doesn't he have to wear a hat?"

Ashley pursed up her lips in concentration as she peered over at her godfather. "Vampires don't need a hat," she said. "They're already cool."

Nikola grinned from ear to ear. "And little children that recognize that are cool too," he winked at the child. He then gave Druitt a smug, "I'm cooler than you" look.

John turned and gave Helen a disgusted look. "Seriously? Where is she getting this stuff from?"

Biting her bottom lip in order to keep from laughing her head off, Helen just shrugged at him. It was a good thing they were going home in a few hours. John was liable to kill Tesla if this kept up.