Thank you to all Reviewers! Thank you so much for reading this story and putting up with my inability to update regularly!

I sincerely hope you enjoy :)

She fell, tumbling away from the light into a vacuum of shadows, the smell of soil overwhelming her senses. The smell of damp, she was falling through the grave of the dead, whose domain was in the ground. She cried in shock and fear, digging her fingers into the soft and wet soil to try and halt her fall… but it was no use. She continued at the same velocity, only managing to rip out chunks of plant roots, worms and compost.

She was so far from the surface now, that she could not see the light and the light could not see her. But she could feel the long drop narrow, closing in around her. The soil touched her feet, her chin, and her nose. She was covered in the muck and grim of the earth. She began to panic; she disliked small spaces and sobbed. Yet now there was little air to breath and each sob shook her lungs, paining them as they tried to keep their life giving process going. She was going to die. She was going to die.

The three characters stood around the green grass rimmed hole in the small garden.

"Hmm." Sherlock peered into the hole, testing the edges, which crumbled under his gentlemanly shoes. He took out a pipe and lit a match just by swiping it through the air.

Finley was on his knees, reaching inside as though trying to grab her spirit or ghost. She had fallen from sight.

Sherlock puffed on his pipe. "This is surely a great mystery."

Finley glanced up at him. "What the fucking hell are you on about?"

"This is most peculiar."

"What's peculiar? It's a bloody hole! You blubbering fool, you bloody well know what this is all about!"

"I am going to solve this mystery." Sherlock raised a finger into the sky and began pacing up and down the garden.

Finley heaved a sigh, closing his purple cat like eyes, before resuming to standing.

"It's time?"

The beautiful Red Queen was staring at the stars still, nodding and smiling as though she could here their whispers of knowledge. She titled her head to gaze at the noble man.

"Why yes." She spoke in that same seductive tone, which was only her natural way of verse. "She must ride the weaving waves of magic. She must go forth to our world now."

Finley looked back to the hole and bit his lip. He was unaware that she looked at him through narrowed eyes, an amused smile growing wider and wider.

"She will need some otherworldly help." The Princess whispered.

"Does that mean we came go after her?" Finley asked.

"No. Too dangerous for you, as a puppet master rules the realm."

"And you let her go there?" Finley roared. "It is too dangerous for me, but ooh no it is ok for her…"

"Because if she dies there she will wake up, here." The Princess watched the skies once more, as the swirling purple clouds covered the stars. "She is in fact, in more danger on her natural plane from the main antagonist."

Finley grumbled to himself.

"The workings of your mind are true, you know the answer yet." The Princess reverted back to monotone, as though preparing to place her public mask and smiled. In a twirl of red she turned back towards the music and social chimes of the building.

Finley pressed his elegant fingers to his forehead, as the wind blew over the garden rustling the leaves in a whisper of instructions.

"I have it!" Sherlock had stopped pacing behind him and walked beside him to point to the hole. "It is so clear now! How fantastically obvious!"

"I preferred you as a disease." Finley sighed.

"How horrible it must be for you to be so stupid." Sherlock patted his friends' shoulder. "Hole be gone, you by gone. Haha funny. I STILL AM A DISEASE YOU PURPLE MAN!"

He led Finley towards the gazebo, where the purple cat sat on the roof smiling, smiling. Behind them the ground crushed out the hole, back into a plush grass.

"We have a job to do, my dear chap! Both of our worlds are connected yes?"


"So, therefore, if she fixes ours… we must fix this one. Yes?"

"Yes. God you are fast today." Finely shook his head, but the other man ignored his sarcasm.

"But, the main Antagonist is here as well as there! CAPISH! Thus, we must cure our dear friend the man who likes March and get this other fellow!"

Finley nodded. "Exceedingly good point, but we are only two, two legged persons of our correct gender so…"

"Yes, but, I do believe there is the smelly rabbit and caterpillar! Butler and Brother. Also of the two legged and gender correct kind, like our esteemed selves. SMILE! They can do some bits and we do the others. Then bobs your uncle and fanny's your aunt, everything will be hunky dory annnddd…."

"We will be gone from her life." Finley finished miserably.

"Yes." Sherlock sang, clapping his mad hands together.

"I suppose it has to be done."

"YES!" He screamed and giggled. "Did I tell you I am a man? Anyway, we can not have the Duke… or Earl… or whatever you are parading around on some secret mission… SSSHH! Its secret you pillock! Sooo… we need an alter ego for you."

"Good thinking, for once."

"My thinking is always as impeccably virginal as your cock. Right so, howabout Steve?"

"What?" Finley raised an amused eyebrow.

"Don't like Steve? Wait to I tell him. Tut tut. Howabout Zhao Zen?"

"I am scared for you."

"Too Oriental? Hmm. Jimmy Cricket? No? Peter Pan? I like that one… howabaout Jim… Jake.. Joe… ooh something beginning with J sounds right. And then Watford… Wraysford…"

"John Watson?" Finley stared at his friend, with a mixture at disbelief and humour.

"Oh yeas! How wonderful and strangely familiar… lets make you a Doctor for funnies." Sherlock exclaimed.

"Oh my Lord." Finley exhaled a fine breath.

The cat laughed at the two men from the fine latticed gazebo. Finely exchanged a quick look with his counter part before the Mad Hatter stood, dragging him off towards the building.

The cat stretched and yawned, turning its attention to the far moon light, chipped from the cloud cover.

"How amusing." An old voice, croaked in hoarse age, spoke out to him.

The cat giggled. "Yesss. Very amusing. Have you yet decided which one, My Lady?"

"Perhaps. We are very certain with out choice, dear Cat. Come back to the palace now. We are getting bored."

"Yes, your majesty."

"Where is Ms. Von Phantom?" The lively Orchestra stopped playing. All attention turned to the young fiancée of the lady in question, and the detective and noble man.

Jasper and Edgar looked up from their activities at the edge of the room. Jasper nodded in politeness to the ladies, who against his wishes had gathered sympathetically around him. They wished his own fiancée good will, to get better. Even though each one secretly wanted her death, in order to secure the handsome young mans in marriage. Edgar, the ever faithful butler, stuck to his master a loyal shadow and loyal friend.

They pushed through the crowds together to get to the source of the public commotion.

"What about my sister?" Jaspers' voice rang out. He cast his clever eyes from Abercrombie to the two men before him.

Abercrombie's wolf mask was hanging in one hand, as the other held up the esteemed Sherlock Holmes by the scruff of the neck. His teeth were sharp. Like that of a wolf and in the Mad Hatter's madness he began to make piggy noises.

"These two…. WHY!" He roared and growled. Abercrombie was shaking with anger.

"What… stiflingly lovely teeth you have!" Sherlock pushed out his tongue and giggled.

"Holmes." Finley barked.

The grip on his neck tightened, the collar beginning to reach hurting point. But of course, he did not feel pain. Not anymore.

"Look, can we just calm down?" Finley reached for Abercrombie, who dropped Holmes and advanced.

"I will deal with this mad oaf later!"

"Oaf… ? I thought I was more a … leaf. Yes, a leaf, floating down a river of golden dew…"

"YOU!" Abercrombie pointed at Finley, who put up both his hands in a gesture of peace, but his eyes flashed red. "YOU HAVE STOLEN MY MY FIANCEE FROM ME!"

The animals from far high began to twitter, but to the ordinary person below, it sounded like the leaves rustling in the late night breeze.

In one fluid movement, Finley had been slapped across the face 3 times by the glove of Abercrombie.

"I challenge you, Sir, to a duel! And I demand you bring her back…"

"When?" Finley looked bored now.


"Tomorrow is not a good day." His eyes flashed once more as he narrowed them.

Abercrombie turned red in anger. "Day after! Meet me at Crystal Palace at the turn of Twilight. There I will settle this folly once and for all!"

He turned on his heel and stalked out from the Dance hall. Slowly, as though it were a music box revolving around in a dream, the orchestra began to play. Even slowly still, the noisy and gossiping masses stared at the group of men remaining until Jasper strode over to Sherlock to bring him to his feet.

"Look, Jasper…" But before Finley could explain he had been slapped across the face. It was such a quick action, that even he almost missed it.

"That is for not telling me."

"I did not know a single informative fact, my dear man!" Finley exclaimed.

"Fair enough."

Edgar glanced at Sherlock, who glanced back at the butler dressed with mirrors on his costume.

"Is he ok?" Jasper tilted towards the newly awakened Sherlock.

They turned to look at him. He was now moving around the butler very fast, laughing in glee at the faces of himself he could see.

"Yeah. He is much tamer though, and that seems to be worrying."

"Abercrombie meant it Finley, he wants your blood spilt."

"Hmm. I tried..."

"I know my dear old chap, i most certainly know as I witnessed the event transpire!" Jasper clapped him on the back.

"And so it begins." Finleys' eyes flashed purple in mischief, grinning a cat like smile.

Jasper laughed. "Well, we have lots of work to partake in have we not? Let us leave this superficial place."

As the four human forms walked from the glittering romp and pomp of British Aristocracy, high above the rafters their true forms smiled, smiled at the new prospects and adventures waiting from the turn of the moon into sun.

A few miles away, through the dark streets of London, lay the Scotland Yard Police headquarters. Detective Inspector Cingoli was leafing through the case report of the Puppeteer Murder and now the Watchmaker. It had gone nowhere, no leads, just dead ends as though the guilty man, who no doubt still roamed the streets didn't exist. But he laughed to himself; the antagonist did not exist and nor did he himself. He reached over his desk and turned off the gas light.

He fumbled in his jacket pocket and found box of pre-rolled cigarettes, which he had taken the liberty to line with his drug. He lit in, inside the office only the flair of his match and then the burn of tobacco could be seen in the the newly acquired darkness. he stretched back in his seat and pondered: "Who was the antagonists controller?"

"Red Queen or White Queen. hmmmm. Difficult choice to choose!" A small squeaky voice spoke up to him.

He peered down and saw the outline of an ugly wrinkled caterpillar, a bong by his side.

"Have you considered Cingoli, that perhaps we should also look towards the dear Queen herself as another possiblity, as she is the one who ultimately is in control of this twisted game." He inhaled.

"Who do you think knows?" Cingoli leant forwards and both Caterpillars exhaled the cloud onto the other.

"Hmm. Good delicate question. I think the Cat knows, no not the young handsome cat, but the true cat. The problem is, he could be the evil one as well... which would most likely crush our young crusader of love. The rabbit... he is stupid and talks to trees too much! I reckon the Mad Hatter knows..."

"Thought he was a disease."

"Oh yes, that he still is as well, but he has come back as Sherlock Holmes. The thing is with that chap, i would have no idea who he would side with... I hate civil war. When it is over, perhaps we would have lost some, it would be back to normal once again."

"Hmm. I do not like not knowing."

"Join the club! We have taken bets!" The caterpillar sang. "It is swinging more towards the White Queen to trust."

"But the Jabberwocky..."

"Never know, he could be out to protect us all, eh?" The caterpillar waved his arms. "nothing is as it seems!"

"Gov! Gov!" Cingoli looked up to a commotion in the corridor, past the wooden door. He could hear the poilshed shoes of an officer running along the tiled floors.

The door burst open and the Officer was confronted by a gust of purple mist.

"Another murder, sir!"

"Alright!" Cingoli moved into action, swinging his cape on and hat over his head, stashing his addcition back to its home.

"Sir is that a Caterpillar?"

"No." Cingoli frowned and walked off. "It is a dog."

"Woof, woof." The Caterpillar grinned as it watched the confusion on the officers face as he leant against the desk. "Bye bye. Happy murder time!"

She spun around. She felt something, so she was not dead. She was not stuck in the ground with soil around her… but she was… yet she was still falling. Lacie squinted through the darkness she could make out a far perpetual light shining from the depths of the belly of the Earth. If it was Earth. She tried to remember her mothers' story, to try and help her. She knew it was that. For days she had pieced together the likenesses. She had concluded that this was either real, or it all was some weird dream. At this moment, she was not sure which one she wanted it to be. She was most certainly not a stupid girl.

The light neared her steady fall, and its brightness blinded her for a few short seconds. It was a gas lamp, a beautiful and golden gas lamp burning on a ridge in the soil all the way down here! Curiouser and Curiouser still! She reached out for the lamp, but it was raising as she was falling. Then she noticed more and more lamps, some gas, some candle and some a weird new thing! They were all different shapes and sizes and each cast a different glow around the dark damp place.

It's Only a Fairy Tale Anyway, Lacie. Mothers' story never really happened. But sometimes, I do think it did. We need to make a fairy tale from our life everyday! Lacie, make it happen.

The past chimed as somewhere within the hole, a clock began to announce the hour, like bells tolling at a funeral.

Authors Notes'

Erm... once again sorry about the 3-4 inactivity! I am not sure when I will next update, but this is kinda... nearly finished. I say this and 30 ch laterrr...

Happy New Year and Christmas Everybody!

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