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Remington in Wonderland

SavageSavage, Secret Savvie, et. al.

• One -

He woke up at half-past-five, managed to step over the black Cairn sleeping on the rug, and shambled into the shower. Last night, he remembered, a little suggestion brought on by too many cake martinis had turned into a freakish dream that he didn't really want to remember. And the worst part of it was, he couldn't remember much of the dream, now.... What had it been about, anyway? Something about cookies...a card game.... For some reason, he even remembered a red queen. Not a normal one, though...or at least, that wasn't the idea he'd gotten.

Remington thought some of that dream had been familiar. He didn't remember where he'd seen it before, but there had to be some sort of similarity between what he'd gone through and what he'd seen.... Card games. Rabbits. A Cheshire cat. Something about that simply had to be familiar....

"Eh, you can figure it out at the station, old man," he decided. "Besides, there's a new bakery in town and Teri-Lu insisted on bringing a batch of their famous cookies. Can't imagine why a bakery called Wonderland Tarts would be so popular...." He shrugged, though; the girls at Martin's Bakery weren't too fond of him anymore. Something he'd said the last time he'd come in, perhaps...or the fact that he'd come in more than once with Julie-Su. For some reason or another, no one in that shop especially liked her.

He stared at his reflection in the hanging mirror above the shower shelf. "Ah, you're a right mess, Remington. What in the world possessed you to go drinking last night? You collar enough drunkards to have a DWI conviction for every day of the year...and now you're making a terrible example for the rest of the team. Hangover or no, you're going to work--and may the misery of your ancestors visit on your head for your foolishness."

Headaches weren't a problem in his line of work, anyway.

* * *

Half an hour later found him sitting at his desk, wondering where those blasted cookies were, and if they would ever arrive. He'd rushed out of the house after a quarrel with the upstairs neighbor--leaving him no time to eat, and a miserable Remington was not a happy one. He almost pitied the men he was going to arrest today.

"Well, guess I'd better hang it up and go pick up a sandwich," he muttered, rising to his feet. Today was going to be a sorry one after all.

The door opened. "Oh, Constable, are you headed out? The line at Wonderland Tarts was monstrous...they sent me out with an entire case of their assorted cookies. There's a cat here...oh, a little cookie painted to look like a hedgehog!...Some cards.... Oh my, there's the reason they call them Wonderland Tarts. It's a theme bakery inside and out!" Teri-Lu bustled herself to the desk and set down the box of cookies, as well as a strange bottle of what was either soda or a sparkling spring water. "And this. It looked interesting, and you're always in the mood to try something new."

"Provided it doesn't kill me first," Remington agreed, and sat back down. "It's good to finally get some breakfast in me, though; it's almost lunchtime. Will you have a cookie?"

"No thank you," Teri-Lu gracefully begged off. "I'm trying to lose weight for my sister's wedding."

Laughing, Remington agreed. "Those bridesmaids' dresses never fit right, do they? You look fine in my opinion, though; a little curve among those tiny friends of hers would be a good thing. I think all of them must've lost fifteen pounds in their quest for perfection."

"Fifteen stone among the whole group," Teri corrected gently. "But yes...it is miserable." Still, she reached down, picked up a cookie painted to look like a bread-and-butterfly, and trotted off.

Alone again, Remington stared down at the cookies, mesmerized. "Wonder how much these set her back?" He pondered over the box with a little frown; he couldn't eat nearly all of them. "I do hope there was a reason for the line to be so long.... Perhaps the Brotherhood stopped by for a little breakfast that didn't include nutrium, hmm?" His smile reemerged at the largest part of the cookies--various little tarts that simply read 'Eat me' or 'Take one', or in one case, 'Indulge'.

"Now that sounds wonderful...I haven't had an indulgence in quite a while." He plucked the sugar-lace cookie from the assortment and smelled the fragrant warmth. "...It's terribly cold out there, though; what makes these cookies as warm as a fresh batch?" The icing looked wet.

"Ah, who am I kidding. I waited for these all morning." He stuffed it whole between his lips and chewed.

Hmm.... It smelled sweet, but for some reason...for some reason it tasted like tea?...Jam?...Something that wasn't immediately recognizable, but perhaps a mixture of things that didn't belong in a sweet-smelling cookie. And he thought he might detect a little mushroom in there too.... The top side, now that he thought of it--

A creak underneath his back unsettled him. "What? I thought they fixed this _CHAAAAA AAIRRR----!" _

He had to be stoned off his rocker! One minute the chair broke beneath him, the next he stared down at a rapidly shrinking room--When his head smacked into the ceiling, Remington's surprise left him in a coarse shout! "What the hell is goin' on here?! TERI!! Someone get in here, quick!"

"Aye, Constable, I'm comin'...." The door, far below him now, opened with a deputy's advance into the room. But by now, mortar and bricks were crumbling around Remington's head and shoulders. And the whole ceiling simply--caved in--as McNamara scrambled for cover under his boot, the coffeepot she'd brought in shattering on the floor.

"OH M'DEAR LAIRD!" She stared up in shock. "What th'hell happened t'you, Constable?!"

He blinked down at her; she was barely the size of a Fire Ant now. Or he was too tall.... Reaching gently down, he picked her up--she clung to his fingers with terror, looking weakly down as his hand rose. "Colleen, I don't know what's going on. All I did was eat one of those tarts...." And come to think of it, he had read a story like this. It'd been 'Through the Looking-Glass' or something, by a 'Lewis Carroll'.

But that story had been written before Mobians had existed. What was going on? "...That bottle there," he managed. "Dunno if it'll help, but being this tall makes me terribly thirsty...." Lowering her to the desk, he sighed. "And here I thought today would be boring."

"Well, whatever's happened to ya, Constable, I'm sure I can figure it out if I investigate Wonderland Tarts." She frowned. "Should I throw the cookies out, then?" Handing up the bottle, she stood ready to follow orders.

He shook his head--they'd been terribly good cookies. "I'll deal with the consequences, Colleen. Thank you...It might not have even been the cookies. I might be stoned somewhere in an alley after an investigation gone wrong, come t'think of it."

"If you are, I was your attending backup." She allowed a small giggle to escape as he licked the open mouth of the bottle.

He blinked. "Black pudding? That's a terribly odd flavor for water...." But his head didn't hurt quite so much anymore; looking up, he found the roof's nearby pylons were a little higher than he was now. "Cherry tart," he decided after a second lick.

The sun didn't shine directly into his eyes now; the wall blocked it. "Mmm.... Roast pheasant?" The first sip was a drugging one--now, though the desk stood taller than he, and McNamara stared down like a giantess. "Good heavens!"

"What did you do?" She gaped.

He held the bottle like a keg in his arms. "I almost went out like a candle...." Turning around, he saw a hole drilled into the side of his desk...something clothlike covered it. Now when had that bit of vandalism been done? "Hang on, McNamara--I have to see what this hole down here in m'evidence drawer is...."

Tasting a drip on the side of the bottle was enough to shrink him smaller than the hole. "Ahh, there we are." He couldn't hold onto the bottle anymore, though, and his back wobbled painfully as he managed to set it down. "Right then, I'll be right back!" He had to shout to be heard.

"Wonder if Archimedes ever felt like this?" He stepped over a dust ball bigger than he was, edging his way to the evidence drawer and the offending hole. "And what is this, some kind of scarf?"

Pulling the cloth aside, he gasped--a door stood here. A very small one, with two eyes above the lock that blinked at him curiously. "What in the world are YOU supposed t'be?" He blinked much as the keyplate did. "And who are you, for that matter? What are y'doing in my evidence drawer?"

"Who are you?" The keyplate's lock moved like a mouth. "Do you have the key?"

Remington felt his pockets. "...Ah, no. I don't believe I have a key this small, sir...but hang on--" Running to the edge of the desk, he shouted upward, "COLLEEN! IS THERE A KEY UP THERE? TINY LITTLE THING?"

Papers thundered like an avalanche above him. "I don't know.... I can't find one! It's probably in the locker, Constable--I'll go look for it. Stay here--whatever ya do, don't be going anywhere while you're that size! It'd be disastrous if someone stepped on ya!" McNamara's bootsteps quaked the floor as she ran out of the room, slamming the door behind her.

"Bother," Remington muttered, one hand on his head. "I didn't think the possibility of a migraine through."

• Two -

He sat there for twenty minutes, just looking at the keyplate. It seemed to have lost interest--but now, from behind, someone opened the door. Someone with furry, purple-striped feet...who was this character? And how in the world did he open the door? Had HE locked it?

"Sir!" Remington rose to his feet. "What in the world are you doin' in that drawer? 'Tis MY evidence drawer!"

The strangely-clothed Echidna looked up--and Remington realized the eyes that stared at him were as violet as Guardian Knuckles's. "Why, Guardian! What in the world are you doin' here? Did YOU eat the tarts too?"

"Tarts?" That boyish face lifted in a smirk. "Nope, didn't eat any tarts. But now that I think of it...I'm really hungry. I've been walking for hours in that mess...had tea with the March Hare and the Mad Hatter, smoked a bowl with the Caterpillar.... Oh, and the Queen of Hearts said for me to tell you hello; you're invited to the palace with the King of Spades. And he doesn't take 'no' for an answer...your head's going to be on his wall if you don't come."

"And HOW am I supposed to get there?" Remington spread his arms. "I'm in no position to get through that door; it's locked!"

"Well, you've got the key, don't you?" Knuckles--or Cheshire Knuckles--looked back with a dismal expression as the door closed. "I really, really hope you have the key, Constable...otherwise neither one of us can get back in there. And the King of Spades is gonna have my tail if I don't come to the croquet match today."

Remington sighed. "Colleen went to find the key. She couldn't find it up there, and I wouldn't trust one more of those tarts if I had a choice." He sat down with a dejected frown emerging on his face.

"Hey, hey...things will be all right. You never know; we could get lucky. I mean, I'm not just hungry anymore...." Cheshire wagged his tail. "There's not going to be much to do until we can open that door, and I'm bored out of my skull. The Mad Hatter and I had a little fun before I came here, but...damn, now I'm really miserable."

"And why is that?" Remington blinked. "Is there somethin' I can do to help?"

One hand rose to Cheshire's muzzle in thought. "Now that I consider it...." His eyes glittered with a feral sort of affection. "There is something you can do. Why don't you lean against that door? Our weight could break it inward...." Obviously he was ignoring the fact that it had opened outward to let him through, though. "Go on. Just lean against that door for me, willya?"

Bewildered, Remington did as he was told. "Aye, Guardian. Anything else?" That look on Cheshire's face was one he'd never seen before...one that shocked and frightened him, if he had the leisure to admit it.

"Hold still," Cheshire Knuckles purred, and closed in on him.

Remington's eyes snapped closed. He wasn't a fool--was he about to take one in the jaw? He'd never seen Knuckles look that way before...and even in a different reality, he imagined the blistering temper he knew the Guardian had was sure to still be present in spades, so to speak.

A silky-raspy tongue slithered over his sheath. "...Oh my god," Remington whispered. "What are you doin', sir?" Leaning against the door even further, he grabbed the curtain for purchase...it was all he could do, because he knew telling Cheshire to stop would be moot.... "Na--aagh--," he managed incoherently as his cock stretched out of his sheath to the knot.

"Mmm...I told you I was hungry, Constable. And I certainly can't eat those tarts; you said so yourself."

Weakly, Remington nodded. "S--Surely not. I...If you want to do this, I suppose I canna stop you...." A gulping breath escaped his throat at the touch of Cheshire's gloved fingers to the shaft. "Oh, but please be gentle...d-don't bite me...."

"I won't," Cheshire agreed, and lowered his head.

Remington had only a few moments to realize he was caught between a rock and a hard place, before the transformed Guardian's tongue lashed pleasingly over the slit of his cock. "Oh god.... Aaagh, that...that feels lovely, Guardian...please, don't stop...." His free hand reached down to brush fingers through Cheshire Knuckles's furry dreadlocks, tugging him closer by the shortest one. "Ooohh----"

"Mmm," Cheshire opined, greedily sucking the mouthful between his lips. His cheeks hollowed--and that sweet, warm snugness deepened to an aching, hot vise! Anguished with lust, Remington tugged Cheshire Knuckles closer stiil, so his knot pressed to those youthful lips, and thrust jaggedly into them.

"Ahngh.... That's fantastic," Remington whispered, his other hand lowering from the curtain to hold the Guardian's dreadlocks. Pinioned between the Constable's hands, by his cock, Knuckles sucked for all he was worth, drawing slightly back every now and again to breathe. "Ohhg...Ah, Knuckles, I think I'm going to come...."

"Right here," Cheshire murred, his throat working in readiness. Those lambent, violet cat-eyes searched Remington, seeing what had to be bucketfuls of lust, and with a puckish grin, he lightly scraped his fangs down Remington's cock at the next inward thrust.

"Ah, GOD----" Remington seized Cheshire's dreadlocks tightly, stuffing his cock between those willing lips as ballistic recoil shot down his spine. "Ah----Ah, yes----!"

Cheshire's noisy slurp made Remington all the harder. "...Oooh...," he whispered as he pulled away from the Constable's cock, "we're going to need more force if we're to break the door down...." He still didn't realize he'd opened it outward, did he? "Move over, Remmy...I'm going to push the door in."

"Well, you could easily do that with your strength," Remington managed. "Do you need assistance?"

Cheshire's tail flirted behind him as he shoved his chest against the door, both hands holding tight to the sides of the frame. "I'd love some...." As his tail lifted, Remington saw a curious little tag there, tied to his tail with a silky pink ribbon. "Follow the directions," Cheshire Knuckles murred, "and I think we'll get further than we were planning to."

Remington gaped at the tag--and at what it said. 'Fuck Me'? "My god, this situation gets stranger by the minute." But with a concentrative frown, he wrapped his hand in that strangely curving tail, and tugged it away from Cheshire's tailhole. A little smile emerged on Cheshire's face as he looked back.

"All right then," Remington decided, "there's just no other way." Two fingers skimmed over that slackened hole, sliding easily in. "Looks like everything's in order...but if you have some other secrets about this dream I'm havin', Guardian, I'm going to have to perform a body cavity search to get them out of you." His knees wobbling but a little with the oddity of the situation, he grabbed Cheshire by the haunches and thrust his cock up into that welcoming ass. Cheshire's tail stiffened from base to tip, and a long, drawn moan escaped from the direction of the curtain.

"There ya are," Remington husked, his resistance slipping away by leaps and bounds. "How's that feel?"

Cheshire looked back, his cheeks blazing red. "Amazing...don't you dare stop, or I'm going to have to censure you...." His knee bent against the keyplate, swollen cock hanging low between his legs. Another tag--another one!--hung there at the end, reading 'Stroke Me'.

"Well, no sense in wasting a good time." Remington's fingers wrapped around Knuckles's cock, tugging it back to easily work a good pace into it. "Ah...yes, Guardian, you like that, don't ya?"

Cheshire's head bumped the frame. "Y--Yeah----Ah, Remmy, don't stop.... Make me cum----"

"I'm sure I can manage that." Holding tight to Cheshire Knuckles's tail with one hand, Remington wanked with the other, his cock stuffed every second or so in that gorgeous clutching tailhole. "Ahng...this is even better than the time I met your father, Guardian. Did ya know he used to be fairly lustful when he was younger?"

"I'm sure he was," Knuckles purred. "At least from my end--aah!--he seemed to be.... Fuck me, Remmy...shove me so hard against the door it splinters...."

Remington wasn't sure that could be achieved, but even if he was ordered to come out of that grasping hole of Cheshire's, he doubted he could. And now that sweet wedge opened around Remington's knot, and sucked the whole length of his cock into it--! "Oh lord, Guardian, I'm afraid I can't move anymore----" No, but he could stroke, and grind his hips furiously against that rump, smash their balls together.... "Ah yes.... I'm a hair trigger today, I'm afraid--I can barely hold myself straight...."

"Straight's--no fun----" Knuckles arched up as if he'd been stomped to the pavement, a long, keening cry bursting out. "Ah----Coming--I'm cumming, Remmmyyyy----God, that's excellent----!"

Remington bowed his head to Knuckles's back, the quivering suck of the Guardian's hole tearing a moan of completion out of him as well. "I almost hope Colleen doesn't find the key," he gasped out. "I'd do this again with you in a heartbeat, Knuckles...." Though now, for some reason, he stood ankle-deep in a puddle of cum that wasn't his.

And it was rising. "What's going on, Knuckles?"

"Woou...." Cheshire Knuckles turned around, leaning back against the door. "I can't...agh...." He stared blankly outward, a walking firehose of cum. "Dunno how to turn it off...Looks like the room's starting to fill up...."

"Well, what are we supposed to do? We can't drink it--" Remington paused, stepping back to watch the bottle as it floated by them. "Huh. Waitaminute now, I think we could use the bottle...." Wading through the thick, waist-high river of cum, he struggled to reach the bottle, and dragged it backward. "Maybe if we shove the bottle against the door...."

"Or drink out of it--that's a great idea!" Cheshire Knuckles began to tread water--er, cum--and swam over to the bottle. Together, he and Remington dipped a hand each into the mouth, trying to taste a bit before it toppled over onto them! Coughing on the strangely sugary mess, Remington grabbed for Cheshire's hand, and the two of them swam upward, grabbing the glass lip of the bottle and sliding past into the drink.

The bottle righted itself, bobbing easily in the sea of milky white. Looking up, Remington saw the keyplate opening wide--but the bottle had been larger than the keyplate, hadn't it? It'd been larger than the hole in the drawer! But he looked over at Cheshire, who shrugged in return...and the bottle slipped like a stream of oil through the lock in the plate.

* * *

Colleen emerged back into the room empty-handed. "Constable? Constable Remington, where'd ya go?"

"Hmm." She shook her head, looking down at the floor; the bottle had spilled onto the carpet, its contents swirled like milk over the plush pile. "Well, I'd better find out what the hole in the evidence drawer was about...." Sliding down to look under the desk's table, she gaped--no hole. No nothing...what had Remington been going on about? "That's so strange. There's nothin' there at all...." But the key Remington had doubtlessly been speaking of was under the drawer. It'd fallen there earlier, she suspected, while she'd been shuffling papers around.

Frowning, she shook her head. "He had to have been serious when he said that. Maybe there was something in the evidence drawer after all; I should check...." Picking up the key, she rose and stepped around the desk to sit down in the chair. The construction crew had fixed the roof in here awfully quick...and this chair looked exactly like Remington's, down to the scorched area where he'd dropped an outage lamp onto it. Felt the same, too--warm, smelled of cookies and tea.

"Speaking of cookies...." She smiled, looking through the box. A tart in there was the ace of clubs....

• Three -

Remington peered out of the bottle's mouth, looking around. "I don't see anythin' familiar, Chesh. Wish there was someone who could tell us where we are...."

"I know where we are." Cheshire Knuckles grunted with the effort of holding Remington up. "We're on the same sea the Walrus and the Carpenter sailed. Those two shacked up in their café a long time ago; after the oysters were done, the Carpenter decided he'd have something else for lunch."

His cheeks coloring, Remington enquired, "The same something you had before we left?"

"The very same." Cheshire released Remington's legs and climbed up beside him, pointing to the oncoming shore. "We're almost to the land...when we get there, I'll show you where to go. As it is, the White Rabbit should be here soon...." He licked his lips. "I love Rabbit. He's a handsome fellow." And here, now, beside the bottle a familiar white-clothed Guardian--in cuff-trimmed gloves, bunny feet, and a pair of tight fuzzy bottoms that bore a bunny-tail on the back--floated in the overturned cup of an equally white umbrella. The ears on his furry hat pricked up at the sight of Cheshire and Remington.

"Oh hey!" He waved. "You guys coming to the party too? I'm supposed to help the Queen of Hearts get ready for that dinner date of theirs. You'd think that two people who lived in neighboring kingdoms would see each other more often...." Shrugging, White Locke laughed softly. "Not as though it matters."

"Who is the King of Spades, and why am I ordered to meet him?" Remington blinked.

White Locke pawed the air. "Oh please, Remmy. Everyone's ordered to meet him today. They're having a croquet match this evening--as far as I know, the Queen of Hearts isn't very good at croquet. And even if he is, he's going to have to lose to the King of Spades anyway. He always loses...silly Queen...."

"He?" Remington's eyes widened as he looked away. "I see now. I'm havin' a dream like this because I haven't had a date in years, and I almost always speak with men. Not that it matters...it could be worse."

"Yeah." Cheshire tugged himself out of the bottle, clinging to the edge. "Hang on while I get us to shore."

With the help of White Locke, Cheshire Knuckles and Remington, the bottle managed to sink itself into the sand, tumbling all three of them onto the shore. Remington coughed out a mouthful of the milky sea and licked his fingers, thinking there were worse things than having to swallow. "Ooh, my head--I still have a terrible migraine. What in the world do I do about it, Chesh?"

"I dunno." Cheshire shrugged. "I've had one for the past sixteen years." But he rose to his feet, shook his fur dry, and looked over at White Locke. "Where are we going, Rabbit?"

White Locke reached carefully into the back of his fuzzy bottoms, pulling out an enormous pocketwatch. Remington's temperature rose ten degrees at the thought of just where it had come from.... "Well, looks like it's half past three already, so we're going to have to cut through the forest. Dunno if we're going to get through there easily, but as long as we don't see the Tweedles, we should be fine."

"Tweedles?"

"Tweedle Dee and Tweedle Dum. Their real names escape me at the moment." White Locke shook out his umbrella and folded it closed, tugging the front of his bottoms forward to stuff it in. At this point, Remington wouldn't be surprised to hear he could fit Cheshire into those fuzzy hot pants--and from the look on the cat-Guardian's face, White Locke had probably fit at least some part of Chesh in there, more than once. "Those two are an intolerable pain that I only wish I could avoid." He and Chesh turned around, walking in the direction of a nearby path.

"Are they anyone to be afraid of?" Remington stumbled to keep up with the pair. Chesh's tail was closest to his hand, and so he grabbed it--if this wasn't a dream, Remington hesitated to think of what would happen to him when he got back to the station. Guardian Knuckles would have a fit if he remembered any of this.

Cheshire shrugged. "As long as you stay out of Tweedle Dee's way, Tweedle Dum can't get you with her whip. Dee tends to distract people from what his sister's really doing...he doesn't really give a damn why anyone is there. He just likes to distract them for as long as he can, so she can tie them up with her whip and throw them out like last week's vodka."

"Doesn't seem like it'll be anything to worry about, then...." Remington thought he might know exactly who this pair was now. "Anyone we DO need to worry about?"

"The King of Spades," both Guardians said together.

Remington blinked. "Is he really as bad as all that? As far as I know, there's very few individuals on my list who could ever be that frightening, and the one man I think could overcome that title is nowhere near here. You canna be tellin' me the REST of the Brotherhood's involved with this!"

"Are they?" White Locke turned his head to regard Chesh.

The cat-Guardian thought for a moment. "Hmmm." Counting on his fingers, he thought about it, and determined, "Yeah, all but one are in Wonderland somewhere. Dunno what it is they do, but I could ask the DOSmouse about it...."

"The DOSmouse?" Remington shook his head. "You mean the DORMOUSE."

Chesh laughed, waving a hand to dismiss it. "Rabbit, can you believe this? His first time in here, and he's never heard of the DOSmouse. And I suppose he knows literally nothing about the un.BIRTHDAY program...." Shrugging, he explained it off with, "The DOSmouse should be able to help you get home. That is, if you really want to go home."

"I surely would. Not that it hasn't been fun--" The Constable looked up at a crackle in the air.

"Whoa boy...." White Locke and Cheshire Knuckles tackled Remington to the ground. Staring up between the two of them, the only thing he saw was a white-sparking whip darting down to meet the ground. And behind the whip.... "Oh man! We totally forgot about the Tweedles!"

The whip caught Chesh across the tail. Screeching, he rose to his feet, claws extended and fur puffed. "What's the idea, dummy?!"

"I am not dumb, stupid cat. I am Dum. Totally different concept." Tweedle Dum--an eerily accurate representation of Lien-Da, it seemed--cracked her lightning whip in front of the three. "And of course, you forgot to look behind you." With one graceful little finger, she pointed.

Remington whirled around. "Good LORD! I thought YOU were dead!"

Tweedle Dee--Kragok, to Lien-Da--stood there on the other side of the path, a smirk developing on his face. "Ohh. Poor baby. Well don't you worry, little man...Daddy's going to take good care of those two brats behind you." Taking aim with an oddly golden claw, he fired off a concussive blast to Remington's right, taking the Constable's hat with it.

"Ah-ah-AH! I don't think I gave you permission to singe my fur." White Locke whirled the blast away with his unfolded umbrella. The blast sparked off in all directions around the three--crashing into the forest above and around them, and into the Tweedles' faces.

"GAH! CAN'T SEE----!" Tweedle Dee dropped to his knees, holding his organic hand in front of his eyes.

Dum rushed for Dee, and the two of them fled through the burning forest. "Come on! We've got to find the DOSmouse before they do, brother--otherwise, we're not getting out of here either!"

"G'wan!" Cheshire threw rocks at the pair. "Not like you'll find him before Hatter does!" He and White Locke stood frowning, a defeated sort of expression if Remington had his guess. And the poor umbrella lay on its side, the lovely silk scorched and burning. "Ah, Rabbit, we're in trouble now, aren't we?"

"Looks that way," White Locke murmured grimly.

* * *

The two of them sat there on the Tweedles' log an hour later, frowning still. For some reason, it seemed as if they were worried, now--like everything in Wonderland could come crashing around them with disastrous results. Were they even here of their own choice? As far as he knew, Locke and Kragok were actually dead in the real world...which meant....

"...Wait...." Remington realized, "Not everyone here came deliberately, did they?"

White Locke looked up. "What, you think we enjoy this nutty place? Maybe I would if the Queen of Hearts was my former wife...but as it is, she's the Duchess. And that little sneezing pig is not what I imagined my second son would look like--I think the DOSmouse executed the wrong file on that one."

"This gets more confusing by the minute." Remington frowned. "I'm a little worried."

"You should be." White Locke pointed down the path of the forest, to where a maze of houses led to an even larger labyrinth of greenery. "There is where we have to go...and if we don't find the DOSmouse before then, the King of Spades may not even let any of us leave. The DOSmouse can reason with him, but aside from our little friend, we have very few people we can depend on here. Even the new Captain of the Guard is prepared to slay any intruders who come through the Diamond Labyrinth. The Club Forest is where we are now...." He shook his head.

Cheshire drew his paws around his shoulders. "We need to leave...and quick. There's a station of guards coming this way, and it might be led by the Captain...." Shivering, he murmured, "I'd rather fall down a spiked rabbit hole than have to face him.... He and his second are brutal."

"The Captain of the Guard." Remington pondered this, following close behind as they made their way down the path. "I'm guessing he's someone very close to the King of Spades."

White Locke nodded. "He and the King were brothers. Captain's older, but he sent Spade to govern the place. And some of the newest Clubs are really gunning for intruders...there's one who's dynamite with her mace, and we don't even know where she came from or who she is." Lowering his head as they walked, he sighed. "I wish you hadn't been brought here--I really do."

"What *is* Wonderland Tarts--do you know?"

"It's an area that Axis Industries has taken over. Axis was responsible for the Happyland problem--and the poisonings that followed--and now it looks as though they're working with someone else. Someone with magic power...or something similar." White Locke shook his head. "Almost smacks of Naugus, but he's far from here. The beast responsible for this one has a particular problem with US."

Remington thought about this for a moment. "Could it possibly be one of the invaders the Island has had in recent years? You know...that mammoth fellow, the one who wanted to take over the Island itself. He was trapped in the Master Emerald, as I recall----"

"MAMMOTH MOGUL!" They stared at each other. "And he's got a problem with the DOSmouse too!"

Blinking, the Constable struggled to make sense of this. "Is the DOSmouse Dimitri?" It was the only solution that made sense. Dimitri was so far into his circuitry that he was not only weak, but wise...he would be the only one able to get through the spell, or never be affected at all. But, if that was the case.... "...Maybe it's not the mammoth doing this," he realized.

White Locke stared at Chesh. "There's only one more person it could be, then...and Aurora help us all."

* * *

"Ah, yes...everything is proceeding according to plan." In the rear of the Diamond Labyrinth, a figure dressed in a simple gardener's uniform--diamond-card--stood smirking in front of the royal gardens. Behind him, red and black roses began to disappear, the buds that re-emerged an eerie, eldritch white. "With that fool DOSmouse wandering blindly around, it won't be difficult at all to take this spell of mine far enough to destroy the Brotherhood."

The only group who could harm him...how ironic. One of them was almost completely dependent on cybernetics, another needed a neural shunt to even stay conscious, and the youngest was so blank-headed he couldn't possibly know who the mastermind was. No one had, the first time....

"Let them come." He adjusted his glasses over his eyes. "I'll be waiting."

• Four -

The next morning found them in front of a little house made of scrap metal. Remington looked around; pieces of Panzer tanks and land mines made up the fence. Was it a good idea to come in here? "H--Hey! Wait----This doesn't look safe, sirs----"

"You kidding?" Cheshire turned back to regard Remington coolly. "This is as safe as Hatter's house gets." He and White Locke leapt over the fence, one rabbit foot pushing an easily-moved piece of scrap out of the way for Remington to enter the yard. "Now come on! She's been waiting for hours, and the longer you keep her waiting, the madder she gets!"

"Now when they say 'mad'," Remmy posited to himself, "do they mean angry, or insane? I canna figure ou----"

His feet flew out from under him. Blinking up at the pair, Remington uttered, "I think I stepped on a china tea-cup.... Either that, or a saucer...."

"Neither. You stepped in the butter." Chortling, White Locke helped Remington to his feet, where he could see a pat of creamy butter had smeared all over the bottom of his boot. Oddly enough, the scrap it'd been sitting on wasn't touched.... "Oh, she's gonna be mad at that one. She hates having tea without buttered toast."

Remington drew his hands around his shoulders as Chesh had done earlier. "Is she angry often?"

"IS SHE?" Two figures came running out from the scrap pile in front of Remington, ducking rusted tea-pots and tarnished trays. "Oh, you'd better run, Rabbit. She's not happy right now--the DOSmouse has disappeared completely from the yard. We don't know where he went, and we can't even find him on the radar! If Hatter finds out her bubble-bound benefactor is gone, she's gonna hit the roof----"

"Who are ya, sir?" Remington tugged the left of the figures aside, a robotic hedgehog who somehow had rabbit ears fused to his head in rusted iron. "And why are ya runnin away?"

«I'm not staying here a minute longer, Remington. I have to find the DOSmouse! If I don't, Hatter's gonna take me apart----Dinah, you can stay here, right? We need someone to look after the place!» The hedgehog--the March Hare, apparently--frowned to his organic wife, whose rabbit ears resembled a flak jacket's coloring more than anything. She wore combat dress, and her husband was the one in fancy tea clothes!

"March, you calm down. Just go find the DOSmouse...I'll keep her distracted until you find him." She shook her head as March Jules ran off, sighing with exhaustion. "Now, what is it you needed, Remington?"

"How is it you all know me?" Remington frowned.

She shrugged. "That spell just keeps tugging people in one after another. Our poor dear son is in the Club Infantry...which means he's supposed to find us. I doubt he's trying very hard, though--" Waving her hand, she declared, "Hatter will actually be happy to see you three today. She missed you, Chesh dear."

"Of course," Cheshire acknowledged with a bow. "Now why don't we go join the tea-party?"

The group stepped carefully over the scrap metal, following Dinah Bernadette through the convoluted maze the Hatter had made of her house. Whether out of defense or something else, Remington could see the combat knowledge behind it--there weren't any dangerous traps, so he had to assume, "Julie-Su is the Hatter, it seems like, because it's not as though anything's harmed us yet. It only looks as though it has that potential."

"It quickly has that potential." But White Locke didn't dispute Remington's guess. The four of them tiptoed through the mess of broken dishware that turned out to be a path (if anyone wore less-than-protective shoes, their feet would be cut to ribbons on it), and around a pit of forks and knives that Cheshire quickly disclosed. Remington stared down at the upturned silver points, marveling at how even the forks looked like punji.

"Who attacked HER recently?" He blinked. "Everything here could kill a man if he pissed her off."

Chesh nodded. "That's why she's my favorite Wonderland dweller. She's more than capable of defending herself. Just around this next turn----" And behind the hill of scrap, a worn velvet chair held a flighty, familiar redheaded woman nearly falling out of her rumpled golden gown, who cradled a sneezing child in a pig costume. He couldn't stop sneezing...but this was probably because she opened a little box every now and again, sniffing a pinch of the contents. Snuff?

She turned. "Oh, hello, Remington. My allergies and his went crazy when I came here...the snuff the DOSmouse gave me seems to help. But poor little Mace, he just doesn't like it...." Lifting her son over her shoulders (whose muzzle was covered in a rubberish pig nose to keep him from breathing the snuff), she patted his padded bottom. "I tried singing him a lullaby to get him to sleep once, but the words that came out of my mouth were not at all what he or I wanted to hear. So I've given up hope of helping him sleep...."

"Wowwww, wowwww, wowwww," Mace wailed out, kicking his feet.

"Hi there, little man." White Locke produced a candycane from his hat (thankfully, his hat) and handed it to his younger son. Mace eagerly chewed the peppermint stick, looking every so often to his mother, and then to Remington, seeming to recognize him. One tiny hand, in a pig hoof mitten, reached out for him.

Remington cooed. "Awww. He's adorable in that little outfit. Was he in daycare before he left?"

"That's the oddest thing. I was about to drop him off...there was a school play coming up, and Mace got to be a little piggie in the farmyard scene. But we passed this place called Wonderland Tarts----" And then Remington knew exactly why the line had been so long...Lara-Le, the Brotherhood, Jules and Bernadette with their son, Julie-Su, and possibly a host of others had been ahead of Teri. But how had Locke and Kragok gotten here?

He blinked. "...Ah, I think I know what's going on.... We're in a Special Zone!"

"Ver-ry good. Didn't think it'd take you that long to figure it out." A hatch in the scrap hill opened up...and in tattered but lovely Victorian clothing, their ex-Dark Legionnaire hostess emerged, brushing soot and crude oil drips from her short teal skirt. "Hey guys. I adjusted the radar to detect the last thing DOSmouse was working on before he left...and it's a good thing I did. I know exactly where he is now." A grim frown passed over her face, and she lowered her beaten blue-green hat over her eyes.

Remington didn't like that look at all. "What's wrong, miss? Do ya not like the answer?"

"I think I know, too...." White Locke bleakly looked down at his feet. "He's probably in the Spade Kingdom. That's not a good thing...if he's there, it means one of two things: Spades took over and appropriated Hearts's castle, or Spades torched Heart Palace to the ground and the Queen with it. This just keeps getting worse and worse."

Hatter-Su adjusted the radar in her hat. "I can't detect Heart Palace as a structure. But the components are clearly there...it was probably reassimilated piece by piece and added to Spade Kingdom in negligible ways. Spade Kingdom is already huge as fuck, and it's not like Heart Palace has any defense that Spades couldn't get through if he REALLY wanted to. My guess is that Spades appropriated Hearts's castle AND the Queen...and our dear Queen of Hearts may be in the dungeons awaiting execution."

"EXECUTION?!?" The group stared at her in shock.

Hatter frowned. "YES, execution. Spades wouldn't take a kingdom he didn't rule unless there's a deeper spell over him than over us. He may be independently hexed." Hexed...Remington knew of something that had been hexed. The Master Emerald had been the reason Locke was dead--and if the wretch who'd done it had hexed an entire zone, he could've dragged everyone he pleased in there....

"That's correct. Now lay down your arms and surrender."

Remington whirled around. Two familiar hedgehogs--in club-patterned armor--stood with identical frowns on their faces...and they stepped aside to allow a pair of robotic-enhanced Echidnas past. One towering man with dreadlocks down to his feet----and a woman shorter by probably two heads, whose face was an older complement of Julie-Su's....

The Captain, and his second....

"...M--Mom? DADDY?!" Hatter-Su rushed at the pair. "MOM! DADDY! WHAT THE HELL HAPPENED TO YOU----?" She smashed painfully into the scrap pile at a concussive blow from the Captain's lightning-cracking mace, screaming--her cybernetic systems blew out, one by one, leaving her head wreathed in smoke and her eyes staring vacantly----mortally----outward.

Remington's hands rose to his mouth. "Oh my lord. Y--You just k--kille----"

"...No. She will live." The Captain's metal-enhanced muzzle drew upward with a sneer. "She is an enemy of the state, boy...and she will be brought to trial, just as the rest of you will...." Turning to wave on an oncoming soldier, he smirked at her approach with a cybernetic rabbit-hedgehog in tow....

"MARCH! HONEY, RUN----" Dinah surged to her husband's aid.

"FOOLS!" The Captain's second--Mari-Su, if Remington understood this correctly--struck out with her club-shaped halberd, swatting Dinah Bernadette easily to the ground. In tears and struggling to stay conscious, Dinah fumbled for her pocket----but her captor stepped cruelly onto her fingers. Bones cracked like dry tinder beneath that black boot.

"Aughh----!!" Dinah's eyes rolled back in agony, but she struggled no more...only stared, her quills as jaggedly erect as the silverware punji behind her.

"Surrender," Mari-Su murmured coldly, "or I throw you in."

Gasping with her tears, Dinah Bernadette lowered her head, nodding weakly. The two hedgehogs in soldier garb rushed up and began to frisk her jacket. All Dinah offered was a tearful stare to the blue-quilled youth on the left----and a question.... "...Why, Sonic...? Why did you do this...?"

"...I...can't break free," he whispered, his expression vacant. "I must follow orders." And he cuffed her hands behind her back, lifting her to her feet amidst her broken sobbing. March Jules sadly looked down----he likely knew what Sonic was going through. He'd probably been subject to such a spell before...and he offered his hands, to a magnetic lock the black-and-red hedgehog placed over his cybernetic gauntlets.

Cheshire looked up from where he attended Hatter. "...Yeah.... And I don't want anything to happen to Rabbit." Rising to his feet, he stepped in front of White Locke, hands above and behind his head. "Take me. Let Rabbit and the others go...I'm the one he wants."

"Incorrect, boy. The King wants ALL of you...alive. If that changes, you will die in the dungeons for your insolence." The Captain bound Chesh's hands with stone shackles, chaining a lead to the ring. "Now you, little rabbit. You don't want to be late for your appointment with the Queen." He pointed to where Mari-Su frisked White Locke's bottoms, failing to produce anything but a blush-worthy grope. White Locke rubbed at his crimson cheeks and offered the other hand to be cuffed, a miserable sigh coming to his lips.

Remington stared at the smaller female soldier in the back. "......Oh no," he realized. "You ate a tart, didn't you......? Colleen, you ate a tart? Good lord, girl, after what happened to me----"

"No matter." She was obviously more hexed than Sonic. "You're comin' with us, sir, and I suggest ya don't struggle. The King of Spades has specifically insisted he must see you all----for matters I know not of. None of us have been informed." Turning around to face the Captain, she reported, "I'm afraid the signal's not been here for hours. The DOSmouse clearly isn't here."

Captain Luger's face darkened. "Mari-Su......find him."

"Sir." The Legionnaire bowed and departed, leaving White Locke standing there in cuffs to look back at Hatter. His face paled, seeing no sign of consciousness; Remington didn't either. Hatter-Su's face wasn't obscured by acrid bluish smoke anymore, but those glassy, pain-hooded eyes didn't blink or move. Clearly she'd been through more agony in that single moment than in her entire life----imagine, finding out her own father had betrayed her, and suffering his violent strike.... He didn't know of any crueler man than Luger of the House of Dimitri at this moment.

...But as the Club Infantry led them off, he began to suspect the King of Hearts might be....