Hey there! So, this is definitely not my best work and I don't have a Beta, so all mistakes are mine and I apologize. It might take me a while in between chapters because I'm trying really hard to make the info. I use more or less accurate with the time frame, like with streets, and city placement, what people did and did not wear, and I'm still narrowing it down a bit to what I will and will not use.

This chapter might get a little confusing, and if there's something that really bothers you about it or a mistake please let me know!

When Zoey woke she was shivering, a dank, wet smell filled her nose and she couldn't see much. It seemed she was on top of some sort of box or crate, with a single newspaper covering her. The air was sort of misty and it was quiet, but the silence seemed very ominous to her.

Wrinkling her nose, Zoey threw the soggy paper off herself with mild distaste and swung her legs around on the crate. Pushing herself off the wooden box Zoey walked towards the mouth of the alleyway she seemed to be in. There was no sound of taxis, or the regular city life in general, leading her to believe she must be in some far off vicinity of New York. Maybe. Possibly.

Well where else could she be?!

She'd always somewhat been a capricious person, and certainly believed very strongly in carpe diem, but it wasn't very much like her to land herself in some random rank alley. Certainly not when she was with Clarice, who always made sure to keep an eye on her, with Zoey's reciprocating the favor.

Her overnight bag was gripped tightly in her hands, and she didn't even notice it until the metal chain of the handholds bit into her skin. Her purse was nowhere in sight, and neither was her phone. Maybe she'd been robbed? Or maybe she had gone to the party and been roofied? Oh god, had someone done something to her and then dropped her off in the middle of nowhere? She didn't feel sick. Did people normally feel sick if they've been roofied? Zoey was sure at least, no one had done… that to her. But then why was she abandoned here?

Zoey stopped walking and spun around again, hoping to see some sort of evidence of a prank. How had she gotten here? Clarice surely would have jumped out to scare her by now, wouldn't she have? Was she going to be killed?

Zoey shook her head to clear herself from all of her paranoid thoughts. There had to be a rational explanation, there always was. She continued down the alley way towards the faint glow of a street light. When Zoey reached the street corner she froze; it must be a dream. There were no cars, but that wasn't what truly worried her, what had her frozen in shock was the fact that a horse drawn buggy was making it's way towards her. She looked around desperately, waiting to see someone that would help explain exactly where she was. Zoey saw a group of what looked to be old men walking out of a building, dressed smartly in oldies coat and tie wear, complete with top hats.

Had she stumbled upon a reenactment troupe?

Staying in the shadows in case it was a restricted area, Zoey crept down the street, looking for some sign of where she was so she could call a taxi and get home. It soon seemed that she was better at getting further lost than she was at finding a landmark, and she began to lose hope. All she remembered was waiting for Clarice and wishing that she could help the people from back then with their poverty. The further she went the less sure Zoey was that this was some random group of Larpers and not the real deal. The detail was amazing, down to the spokes on a wheel of a horseless carriage. Maybe she was in some sort of Amish section of New York?

Zoey frowned at herself in disgust, she really was scraping the bottom of the barrel right now. She wished desperately that she had her phone so she could attempt to call Clarice- or even Zander. Zoey was grateful as she walked that her overnight bag wasn't heavy, it slung easily over her shoulder and didn't require much attention. One less thing to worry about.

"Young lady! It's not proper to be on your own at this time of night!" A group of men from a building that looked like some sort of tavern began shouting at her. Zoey glanced up, then quickly looked down again.

"Whatta ya wearin'? Youse some sorta street walker?" Their clothing wasn't as clean and formal as the old men she had seen before, but still, the time period was nowhere near twenty-first century's. Could it be...

"I could give you a good time.. but you'd have to pay me!" Zoey refused to look at them, and kept her head down walking in the opposite direction. Their voices began to come from closer.

"Hey princess! We're talkin' to ya!"

Zoey ran.

Zoey didn't know what had kicked in inside of her. She's never resorted to running from someone on the street before. And she'd had her fair share of catcalls and hollers. Zoey's even gone as far as to scold someone who had said some less than polite things to her and Clarice one night. Why was she all of a sudden running as if her life depended on it?

During this thought a horse came around the corner, carriage in tow, looking as if it had every right in the world to be there. On the street. In the middle of the night. The driver looked up and caught sight of her on the side of the street.

"Hey you-!" He pointed at her but before he could finish his sentence she was off. The last thing she needed was to be caught by some stranger in this freak show. As she sprinted down the street Zoey caught her foot on step of a nearby house. She met the ground quickly with a thump and gasped in pain as her knee met the pavement. Or was it cobblestone?

A ripped and soggy newspaper lay directly in front of her bent body, and Zoey began to reach for it when she heard men's voices again.

"-thinks she went tha' way."

"She was one pretty piece of meat."

Wincing in pain Zoey leapt up again, running and watching out for the things around her as she took turn after turn, far past caring where she was headed. After a minute of twists and turns a flying newspaper smacked her in the face. Zoey growled in frustration and made to rip the paper to shreds when she saw the headline that read, 'Newsies Victorious'. Her hands shook as she lifted the paper closer to her face, in order to see the small print there. She dropped the paper and clapped her hands to her mouth in shock. Slowly, she couched down and tried to breathe. In and out, slowly, then twice more, like her old therapist had taught her.

A tear fell unbidden and Zoey blinked any others away. She knew it couldn't be a dream, the throbbing in her knee was too real, the moistness of the air and the rough feel of the ground below her. She was back in time. As in, time travel. Like, not the TARDIS kind. Or whatever it was that Dorothy and Toto went through.

Holding onto what she assumed was a street sign, but not bothered enough to look up and actually check, Zoey stood dark houses surrounding her, making her seem small with their tallness. The night was quiet.

She was scared.

And now here she stood, on a cold and dirty street in the middle of the night with no idea where she was. Life really had a nasty way of giving her what she asked for. Zoey heard a thunk, along with the sound of footsteps, accompanied by another thunk. She looked in the direction the noise came from. And then she saw a flash of gold in the darkness.

A lightly whistled tune reached her ears before she saw the owner, who was shrouded in the darkness of the street lamp's shadow. Another step and whack sounded as the figure moved into the light.

"Well well, what have we here?" a smug voice spoke in an accent that was distinctly New York-en. Frightened beyond belief now, and wishing she had a cup of coffee, Zoey took a infirm step backwards. The smirk on the face of who had spoken matched the cocky voice perfectly. Dishwater blond hair stuck out of a brown cap, matching a brown vest with a light colored t-shirt under it, as if the owner could care less about the cold. Zoey took a deep breath and returned her gaze to the face of the stranger, the let it all out in one short gasp.

If she wasn't mistaken, (Or completely bonkers) she'd have to say Spot Conlon stood in front of her. "Fucking hell," she said, then crumpled to the side in a faint, very uncharacteristically.

So... that was eventful. Please review and favorite etc. etc. And let me know what you think!