A/N: Cleaning up and reposting some snippets and bits from my writing thread over on Spacebattles, starting with one of the more recent things. More info will be in my profile (at some point).

This is marked as a Young Justice crossover, but will probably incorporate ideas and/or characterizations from other DCAU things. Just a heads up.

xxxxxxxxxx

If there's one thing that I never once expected, it is that I find myself in a place wholly unfamiliar.

Now, that isn't to say that I'm surprised. After all, for one who experiences the unexpected so often as I do, surprise becomes a rather rare commodity. One that I would prefer to save for more interesting things than this.

A city...a city that stretches into the sky, even more dark and grim than old London town...but it isn't my Wonderland, no, that I can tell immediately. Though I feel the lightness of spirit that often accompanies my jaunts down the rabbit hole, and I wear the garb of this city like I do any realm beneath...this place is far too real. And far too dull.

"Oh, but a city such as this is never truly dull, child."

I turn, feeling no small irritation at the condescending tone. "Cat. How...lovely to see you again."

His grin is as wide as ever, tail thrashing in obvious amusement. "Is it really?"

"Of course!" I smile with the ease of practice, and look up at the clouded sky. "Why, your presence adds an agreeable sense of the macabre to any delirium."

"Ah, but you aren't delirious, Alice." He chides, rising to his feet to pad toward me, curling around my legs in an unsurprisingly feline way. "At least, no more so than usual...no, you've simply fallen through the cracks."

"I don't well like falling, Cat."

His chuckle hovers in the darkness, and I turn to watch him continue down the alleyway. "Though you do it so very well." I huff, and move to follow, turning my attention to the buildings again. "Surely you're wondering at how you've brought yourself out of Wonderland without leaving Wonderland behind."

"Idle curiosity does me no good...didn't you teach me that yourself?"

"No, you silly girl. I only ever told you that curiosity should never be idle. Surely you can understand the distinction."

Is it any surprise that I chafe at the scolding? "Well, when you put it so very clearly, how could I not?"

"Indeed."

He stops again, tail curling around his paws. Such a silly Cat, forcing me to play by the rules, when nobody else seems to follow them. "Where am I, then? If not London, or Wonderland...where have I gotten myself this time?"

"Oh, it's a terrible place, Alice." He croons, a soft purr rumbling in his throat. "In our Wonderland, we all think in blue and orange. In your London, people hardly think 't all." Those sickly yellow eyes of his turn to me again, burning in the shadows. "Here, Alice, the people do think. They see the darkness, and the evils of the world, and those that do not revel in them do nothing to stop them."

"Well, that doesn't sound very pleasant at all." I frown, a new caution bumbling like a busy bee about my brain. "What am I doing here, then?"

"You always were a bit slow. It really isn't a surprise that it was the end of you." Cheshire grins again, his ears laying back. "Or very nearly, at least...with your mind falling apart and those outside looming as they so often do, we all had to make a decision."

I don't like the sound of this one. "And who are 'we'?"

"Wonderland." His amusement is gone. "Only you could save Wonderland, Alice...but you were so lost that only Wonderland could save you. So that is exactly what we did."

"...thank you." It's the most I can offer, surprised by his obvious care. Even if it masks self-preservation. "But I'm afraid I still don't understand how...or why...I'm here."

His tail flicks again, and just like that he's grinning. "That, Alice...is a mystery for you to solve."

And without so much as a goodbye, he disappears. Such an inconsiderate creature.

Ah, well. There's nothing for it, now. I'll need to make a few useful discoveries, at least...nothing else would really be worth the trouble.

So I walk, turn a corner here, and there. These alleys are filthy, years of grime and sludge build up in the stone. Refuse of all sorts litters the place...and I strike upon a rather simple idea to find my bearings.

The newsprint is rather surprising, crisp and clear despite the crumpled paper it's printed on. And the pictures...why, if I didn't know better, I'd say I was standing right there.

The 'Gotham Globe', printed on August the first...in the year two thousand and ten?

"Surely not..." I frown, feeling my brows knitting above my nose, though I'm not sure what they're attempting to make. "One does not simply add two hundred years to a calendar…"

Cracks...cracks that I fell through. Pulled from Wonderland, and away from Londerland...to find myself here, in a city called Gotham. Why not in another time as well as place? Rip Van Winkle laid down for a nap, only to wake decades after the fact. And though my name is hardly so ridiculous, the story seems similar enough.

What does one do, I wonder, when outside one's own time? Were it the past, I would have some grasp of my place, for though I was never a scholarly girl I did know my history books. But the future? What can be said of tomorrow? Or the next day? And with two hundred years of days to question, how can I possibly assume anything?

"Well, I shall simply have to ask." I muse to myself, setting the newspaper aside to continue on my way. "Behave as a traveler in another country, as it were. Though such a strange thing it is, to be taking holiday in the future."

The walls don't respond, unfortunately. Though perhaps it really is for the best. Walls, after all, are often not very bright. Nor the best conversationalists, even when they are.

The alleyway finally ends, and I can't help but feel some amazement. There seem to be footpaths, along the sides of the street, smooth white stone that's been stained with grime. And the street itself...why, it look quite smooth as well, though I suppose such a term is entirely relative...

And even as I watch, a number of enclosed carriages roll by...entirely on their own! Some of them are painted a garish yellow, others gleaming in silver or white, black and red. Each of them rumbles by...rather like a train! Why, they are like trains...automated carriages! How simply marvelous...

So struck, am I, by these strange contraptions, that I very nearly miss the people the walk by, a steady stream of them, one and two at a time. And yet, despite their numbers, I get the sense that this place is empty...and while I cannot judge the hour, simply from the prevalence of light (electric lights, so brilliant that they almost seem like suns in themselves), I would say that it is either very late, or very early.

Does that mean that these crowds will grow? It boggles the mind...

Oh, but I'm distracting myself. I truly am awful about that.

I suppose I should find out a bit more about where I am, before all else. That will be the very beginning of learning how best to behave...but what is the best way to go about that? I'm almost certain that simply asking someone would be in poor taste.

My options, then, are quite limited.

It would be preferable, then...to continue moving. I've wandered London in the past...surely this place can't be that different.

xxxxxxxxxx

Not three hours later, I realize that it really is.

Snicker-snack goes the blade, as I part another fool's head from his shoulders. I must say, I'm not used to my opponents bleeding so much, find myself flitting away to avoid another spray of hot red. Revolting.

"Hey!"

"She's over here!"

I turn to see more of them. How many hoodlums are there, here?

Even as I turn to run, the Cat appears to match my pace. "Many more than there are Alice Liddels, I assure you."

"Blasted Cat! Do not try to bully me!" I scramble around the next corner, sacrificing poise for preservation. "I am very much on edge!"

"Purrrfect." His head turns all the way 'round so he can grin at me as he runs...foolish of him, really. "When you're not on edge, you take up too much space."

I huff, and jump, once from the ground, twice from the air, and then with a turn I rise enough to pull myself up the metal balcony.

And then I burst into a swarm of butterflies.

I don't like the feeling. I don't often use this...ability...for more than a move, maybe two...this time, I flitter and fly all the way to the rooftop, nearly five stories straight up.

When I reach the top, I can't help but fall to my knees. I do hate nausea...

"My, Alice. You've grown bold."

"Not so bold that I enjoy this sort of thing." I huff, take a deep breath in to settle my stomach. "What do you want, Cat? If not just to needle me further."

"We both know that neither of us are fans of needles. And I'm rather hurt by your mistrust." He chuckles, the sound velvet and soft. "You don't want to be on edge. That's...fair. But you will need space to take up."

"And I'll assume that you know of such a space?" I finally push myself upright again, wince and wipe my hands on my dark apron. "Otherwise, you'd have little reason to toy with me."

"Oh Alice...you don't know me nearly as well as you believe." I snort, and he grins. "However, in this case you aren't left, and neither will you be leaving. Not far, 't least." He pads toward the edge of the roof, and I follow slowly, look out over the city...toward an old, worn park. "I've found a place, a Wonderland that isn't ours."

Now that certainly is odd. "Another Wonderland?"

"Of a sort." His grin turns to me again. "Like Wonderland, it's only as safe as it wishes to be...and like Wonderland, it does not always accept what isn't of itself. The question you must pose is whether or not you can survive long enough to make friends."

"I'm rubbish at making friends." I sigh, hiccup, and watch as a butterfly flutters from my mouth. "Oh my..." What-? Oh. I roll my eyes, turn to frown at the Cat. "Am I to follow the pretty little insect, Cheshire?"

He chuckles again, and fades away. I just turn to watch the flicker of blue. A running leap carries me over the street. A skip off of the empty air takes me to the edge of the park. My skirts flare as they catch the air, and I glide down inside the tall fence...

I can hear only the wind as it crackles through the trees, dried, bare branches rustling ominously. It's all very precious of them.

The butterfly leads me onward, so I move in the darkness. Darkness too deep to be anything but the middle of the night. I suppose I should have noticed that before, but I was fairly busy...

After some time, I find myself standing in front of a door, its hooked handle hanging loose...broken, actually. Poor thing. I pull, lightly, to open the door, step inside and pull it closed again.

Oh...oh, it's warm. I hadn't realized, but I'd taken a chill outside. My ears and nose feel overly warm, now, my fingers itching...I really must learn to pay more attention to such things. It wouldn't do at all to become frostbitten because I was distracted.

There's a flicker of blue. The butterfly, leading me deeper. Further down the rabbit hole, dear Alice. I pad forward until I reach a pair of swinging double doors...there's a small switch, and the butterfly alights on it before vanishing in a puff of blue.

Well then. That's a surprisingly clear message.

I reach out and turn it on. With a click, and a flicker, electric lights beyond the doors come to life. Lovely! Warmth and light!

And when I push through the doors, an even better surprise...life. My first breath smells of living plants and warm earth. It's so clean, and natural...I'm reminded of home.

When was I last reminded of home in a way that didn't involve fire and screaming?

How very odd.

It's so green inside, plants growing absolutely everywhere...the walls and ceiling gleam in the light. Glass...a greenhouse! It's a greenhouse, in a park!

I walk, carefully down the closest aisle...blink as something moves. A moving plant.

Something else moves. Tendrils along the floor...I'll admit, I yelp as my feet are pulled from under me, leaving me to land on the floor in a perfectly undignified manner...only to be dragged beneath a table and into another aisle.

Suddenly, I'm hanging upside down by my ankle, and only quick thinking keeps my skirt from falling down around me. I blink, at the large...plant...in front of me, its spiny 'teeth' and gaping maw. I rather think it's attempting to intimidate me. But really, it's just cute.

Holding my skirt it place with one hand, I manifest my croquet mallet in the other, and with a single, sharp motion...I bop it lightly on the 'nose'.

"I am not edible!"

It freezes, its jaws clamping shut. After the initial shock has worn off, it hisses, opens wide...

So I bop it again. And again it recoils, whimpering like a scolded puppy.

"Put me down." I huff, with all the injured grace I can muster. And, much to my surprise, it does exactly that, setting me down gently enough that I'm able to regain my feet without much trouble at all. Its vines recoil, wrapping around itself...oh, the poor dear. I'm a stranger! Why, it wouldn't know me from a common sneak-thief or burglar!

"I'm sorry to be so forceful." I smooth out my skirts (again), and let the mallet fade into nothingness. "But you really shouldn't just drag a guest around, no matter how they may arrive."

It shifts, the bulbous 'head' tilting as it...listens, apparently. I watch it for a moment, then sigh, pad forward two steps so that I can reach out to pat it. "I'll assume that you're apologetic...or some plant equivalent thereof...so, naturally, I forgive you!" When it perks at that, I settle my hands on my hips. "But don't ever do it again, or I shall be quite cross."

Imagine my surprise when it nods. A plant, of all things! Now I understand why Cheshire called this a Wonderland. Oh, and he did say I must make friends...

"However, I must apologize as well." I finally offer. "The truth, you see, is that I'm rather lost...and it's quite cold, you understand. And it is only my nature to find a place where I need not be cold and lost. A place that's...safe." I pause, and consider. "Is this place safe?"

It seems to think on that, for several long moments...before shaking its head. I blink, at that...sigh as I realize my mistake. Of course it's not 'safe'. What place is? Especially a place with giant plants who are apparently perfectly fine with the idea of eating people.

"May I stay in any case?" A pause, and I reach up to tap my chin. "And may I call you Mr. Nibbles?"

It nods, after a moment, followed by a slight rustle of its vines and a shake of its head.

"Oh...Miss, then?"

Again, it nods. I smile. "Well then, Miss Nibbles...would you mind if I did a little exploring?"

A no. My smile grows, and I bow low. "My thanks, then."

The vines follow me, as I pad through the aisles, examining this and that. These plants truly are amazing things, many of them beautiful and exotic...I have to stop for almost five minutes, just to examine the truly amazing roses, such a deep red they seem painted in blood.

A few of them react to my presence, swaying or pulling in on themselves. One even chirps at me. And there's an apple tree, in the very back, so small, but bearing perfect apples...I ask as nicely as I can, if it might part with one. And I'm delighted when a single fruit drops from the branch and into my waiting hands.

It's a lovely meal, and I eventually move back to Miss Nibbles, rubbing at my eyes with my cleaner hand. "I believe it would be best if I got some rest...shall I turn the lights off, again?"

She nods, so I traipse to the doors, find a switch just inside them. When the room is plunged into darkness, I make my way back to the largest of the plants by memory alone. I may be mad, but my memory is impeccable.

...well, it is now, in any case.

The floor is rather hard, and rough...but there's a perfectly present coil of vines nearby, so I pull them toward me and form from them a pillow. Functional perseverance is an awful thing, really. So limiting.

Those vines shift a bit, but then fall still. And it's comfortable enough...

I drift off into sleep, and strangely enough, I don't dream.