Notes: Alright, so when I first figured out that the England that Alice is from is not Real World England, but rather fictional England, the idea for Steampunk Shenanigans got into my head and wouldn't leave. And then, unlike most ideas, I started to plan it out as an actual work of writing, and before I knew it, and also before the finale, I had a not insignificant amount of stuff planned out.

So basically, because the first nine or so chapters were planned out prior to the finale, as well a good chunk of writing for the first chapter, this is not entirely canon. It's mostly canon compliant, just not with the last ten or so minutes of the finale.

Cyrus Meets His In-Laws

"We could always elope," Alice said, setting the Looking Glass back on the dresser and sitting on the bench. The longer she stared at the mirror, the lovelier the thought became. Just the two of them, in a nice forest glade, with only family and maybe one or two of their closest friends as witnesses. His family, of course, not hers. She liked his family, her own was another story.

She wished she could say she was surprised that in a few weeks, she'd become closer to Cyrus' brothers than she was to her father. And while she supposed that Jafar dangling her father over a cliff had done something to begin to mend their relationship, it was not enough to make up for a lifetime of feeling unwanted and being told she was delusional. And while she would like for him and Millie to attend their wedding, Sarah was another matter entirely.

Her father she had limited issues with, she was rather fond of her sister, but her step-mother was another matter entirely. While Sarah made her father happy, she had the distinct opposite effect on Alice. She felt some sort of forgiveness for Bethlam towards her father out of familial obligation. She had no such obligation towards Sarah. Yet she was a part of her father's life now and if she invited him and Mille to the wedding, Sarah would have to be included in the invitation. As much as she disliked the thought, she could tough it out. She'd faced down homicidal maniac sorcerers, an unpleasant stepmother should be a walk in the park.

Fortunately, this would be relatively quick and painless. They would go visit her family, properly announce their engagement, invite them to the wedding, if needed, stay the rest of the afternoon, and leave the next morning.

"Should you wish it," Cyrus said, picking up the glass from where she set it down, "We could make it happen. Although it would likely disappoint Ana." If it was possible, the Queen was more excited about their wedding than they were. She'd volunteered the Hedge Maze and castle grounds for the wedding venue. They probably weren't going to take the offer, but she was very insistent and more than happy to loan them the Looking Glass for the few days they'd need it.

"It would stop Will from making any sort of embarrassing toasts though." Making Will her Man of Honor was only natural, but he had a litany of stories for wedding toasts that she would rather not have told. Thankfully, as of late, he'd been favoring the Mallow Marsh escapade.

"You do have a remarkable talent for preventing poorly planned speeches," he said, smiling and sitting down beside her.

"I'm never going to hear the end of that am I?" she giggled, clasping his hand in hers.

"Like I said, it wasn't a very good speech. You did the right thing by stopping me. Although it's hard to imagine you pulling me off the ground and kissing me as a bad thing, regardless of circumstances," he said, kissing her hand. She smiled, but she supposed it didn't reach her eyes because he continued on to say, "Alice, if the thought of inviting your family is upsetting you, we don't have to do it."

"No, I want to do this," she insisted, holding the other side of the looking glass. "I want my father to be there, and Millie, and you know what?"

"What?"

"I think I would like to see the look on Sarah's face when she sees that you're real," she said. It was a petty reason for going back to her father's house, but it would get her through the next few days better than any thought of potential reconciliation with a woman she would, at best, be able to tolerate.

He seemed to think her reason as good as any because he then said, "That would be a sight wouldn't it?"

"It won't be the Ring of Fire in autumn, but it shall be splendid," she said, her voice a bit cheerier than it probably should have been. "And what's more important Cyrus, I want them all to meet you." He smiled at her, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. "Are you alright?"

"What? Alice, I'm fine, I want nothing more than to meet your family. It's just, they seem like such…" he paused and rubbed the back of his neck, searching for the right words, "I'm worried they won't like me."

"Why wouldn't they like you? You are an effortlessly charming gentleman," she said, leaning towards him until their foreheads touched. "If all else fails, just remember, we're not visiting for their approval." She left off that anybody would be stupid not to like him. "And besides, your brothers told me you used to be able to sell sand to a shepherd."

"They give me far too much credit," he murmured, still sounding a bit unsure of himself. "It was grass and I sold it to an apothecary." The familiar playful tone was all she needed to know that this would turn out just fine.

"Oh, then you're right, they won't like you," she said, giving him a reassuring smile. "They'll love you." There was enough time for one stolen kiss before the cool metal frame in their hands reminded them of what they were planning.

"Ready?" he asked, letting go of his side of the Looking Glass.

"As I can ever be," she said, tossing the mirror onto the ground. The Looking Glass sat there for a moment, then the surface bubbled like water just beginning to boil. The mirror threatened to overflow the frame, then slowly trickled over the edge and spread across the rug in quicksilver rivers until a shimmering portal lay on the floor. "Next stop England."

Their fingers intertwined as they got up from the bench and stepped into the portal. She'd never used the Looking Glass before, it felt different than any portal the Rabbit dug or any other portals she'd happened upon for that matter. Every different portal had a different feel to it. The Rabbit's tended to be very sudden, rather jumpy, transitions between realms and if one didn't know what they were doing, it was impossible to have a good landing. The Looking Glass was like slipping under the water in a warm bath. The next thing they knew, they were standing on a grassy knoll near her father's house.

The Looking Glass didn't leave behind quite the same mess as one of the Rabbit's tunnels, but there was still debris. All portals left some sort of trace, whether it was a giant crater like the Rabbit's or a swath of silver-white grass. If one was there soon enough after a portal through space time opened, and one knew what to look for, one could find small, blue-black cubic crystals around the area. Alice had become rather adept at finding them through years of searching for ways back to Wonderland.

"Early spring by the look of things." Alice pointed to the budding leaves on a sapling. That was good. She'd left Bethlam in mid-autumn, unless years had gone by again, they wouldn't have missed much. "I always forget how dreary the weather is this time of year," she said, glancing up at the clouds threatening rain.

"I think it's rather charming," he said, staring off at the fog bank hanging about the distant city. "From up here, your London looks almost like a lost city."

"The only thing to find there is plague and your occasional hopeful orphan," she said as they started down the hill.

"Surely it can't be all bad," he said. He tugged his coat a little closer around himself to ward off the early morning chill.

"It's not completely terrible when there are flowers, but it is awfully boring," she said.

"I can't imagine any world with you being boring," he said.

"I think even you would be surprised," she said.

Despite the threatening rain, it was a pleasant enough day. It was cool, but not unpleasantly so, and a light breeze rustled the new leaves. Even though there were still patches of snow in the shade, she could see crocus' poking through the dirt. If they didn't have places they needed to be, she would have suggested that they take a walk through the forest.

She still possessed an acute mental map of the area. The hollow tree where she'd spent lazy summer afternoons curled up with any book she could smuggle out of the house and past her governess was only a few minutes away and the grove of old oaks with the sturdy climbing branches a little ways past that.

That is, if they were still there at all. The last time she was here, she'd been too distraught to think of things like that. It was oddly discomforting to think of, the places she once knew vanishing without her knowing. That was why Cyrus was less than enthusiastic about the idea of returning to Agrabah after hundreds of years. In that time, he and his brothers still didn't know how long exactly, the whole world could have changed.

The closer they got to her father's house, she felt a growing unease. Her pace slowed as she remembered countless scenes of her father telling her she was delusional or to stop pestering him with this nonsense. Rather than a gravel road, she felt as though she were walking across the hardwood floors towards her father's study. She felt like a child again, telling herself that this time, everything would be alright, that this time she had made everything better, when even she didn't believe it. Her father saw Wonderland, but she wished him away and wishes always come with a cost. Whether or not this visit would go well was contingent on whether or not he even remembered Wonderland.

With every step, she fought the temptation to turn and bolt the other way or toss the Looking Glass onto the ground to escape. She told herself that everything would be fine, that her family would welcome her back. She tried not to think about how they were a little more than a kilometer form the house, how fast they were walking, or the fact that because distance was a function of velocity and time, not taking into account acceleration, they would arrive in a little less than ten minutes, which would then translate into approximately five hundred and forty seconds…

"Alice, are you alright?" Cyrus said, almost distracting her from the seconds ticking by in her head.

"What?" Forty-two, forty-three, forty-four, "I'm fine." Forty-nine, fifty, fifty-one…

"You're counting." The numbers nearly stopped as he took her hand. "Are you sure you're alright with being back here?" Sixty-seven, sixty-eight, sixty-nine, seventy, seventy-one…

"I'll be fine," she said, trying to focus on Cyrus rather than recalculating the time in order to account for this delay. "I'm just a little nervous, that's all."

He smiled at her and said, "Have I ever told you you'd make a very poor genie?" When he first noticed her habit of turning worries into math and seconds, he mentioned how he'd tried to count out the days he'd spent in the bottle and how it hadn't worked, but he suspected that she would be more determined in figuring out the passage of time.

"Once or twice," she said as they continued on.

It wasn't long until they reached the house, her calculations were as usual spot on, and while she did feel a good deal calmer than she had earlier, her hand still hovered over the door knocker.

"I've slain a dragon," she thought, her fingers slowly curling around the cool metal loop. "I've defeated a sorcerer who could break the rules of magic." The brass knocker was heavier as the world. "Visiting family should be easier than that."

The three raps on the door were louder than revolver shots and in the dead silence that followed, she could hear nothing but her heart pounding. Then the door slowly opened.

"Hello Sarah," she said, upon seeing the woman on the other side of the door. There was no way to make this less awkward than it already was, showing up after an escape from Bethlam and months where nobody had the faintest idea where she was. "Cyrus, this is Sarah, Sarah, this is Cyrus." She resisted the urge to add on, "my imaginary fiancé. I'd tell you to shake hands, but he's imaginary." Barely.

The expression on Sarah's face as Cyrus said, "It is an honor to meet you. Alice has told me so much about you and your family," was a good deal less satisfying than Alice had hoped, but the befuddled look on her face when she saw that the young man beside her was, in fact, very real was almost enough.

It took Sarah a few moments to regain her full speech faculties before she said, "The pleasure is mine. I've heard likewise about you." Alice supposed that she had already assumed Cyrus was just as mad as she was from the slightly concerned look she gave him. She couldn't really blame her for that. The supposedly dead genie fiancé from fairyland was fairly unbelievable now that she thought about it.

"Is father currently home?" It would make things marginally less uncomfortable if he weren't away on business or just out for any number of reasons.

"We were just about to have tea," she said, drawing her shoulders back and crossing her arms. "If you think you can manage, you are welcome to join us." She left unsaid, "if you can manage not to talk of nonsense, if you can manage not to cause a scene," and a whole myriad of other conditions for their joining the rest of them.

Alice almost wished Anastasia were here now, she was far better at making polite phrases sound utterly insulting than Sarah. As Will once put it she could, "tell you to have a lovely day, and all you'd hear is, go fuck yourself," whereas Alice was far too upfront about disliking somebody for polite conversation.

"Tea sounds lovely thank you." Thankfully, years of experience working as a confidence artist had left Cyrus just almost as adept at hiding things as the Queen. She had a feeling she would be grateful for that in the coming days.

Sarah nodded her more or less approval and turned to lead them to the parlor. They followed close behind. Alice couldn't help but notice how Cyrus stayed in between her and Sarah. Alice had done the same thing with Will before he and Anastasia had mended their differences.

"Edwin dear, we have guests," Sarah said, tapping the parlor door frame to alert him as to their arrival. Alice reached out for Cyrus' hand as she caught sight of her father sitting at the tea table talking to Millie with his back to the door.

"Show them in," her father said. "We still have the extra chairs out from bridge with Lord and Lady Glenarvan…" His voice trailed off as he turned around and caught sight of Alice and Cyrus standing behind Sarah in the frame. "Alice," he said, as if not really believing she was back.

Millie had no such reservations about greeting her sister as she practically leapt from her chair and rushed to hug her. "Alice you're back!" she said, "I've got so much to tell you. I'm learning about the oceans in my lessons now, I can name all of them…"

"That dream I had…" her father said, his attention now turning to Cyrus. "It wasn't a dream was it? That vile man with the rabbit bag, Wonderland, it was all real. It's been real all along…how did you get back?" He stood up from his chair and gestured to the extra chairs. "Come, sit down, tell us," his voice wavered just a bit, unsure of what to say, "tell us everything. You must be Cyrus, it's so nice to finally meet you." He took off his glasses and rubbed at the lenses with his handkerchief.

"The pleasure's mine," Cyrus said, walking up to her father and shaking his hand.

She couldn't help but smile as she detangled herself from Millie's embrace. She'd spent so much time worrying, and it appeared to be for nothing. She did feel a little strange though, to be welcomed back home, no terse, "how long are you staying this time?" or any sort of pitying looks.

"I'm so sorry we showed up unannounced," she said, taking a seat across from her father. "The Rabbit objects to being anybody's personal messenger." She almost corrected herself about the Rabbit out of habit, but she realized that she didn't have to. It was almost unsettling, not to have to worry about how her father would perceive her stories.

"The rabbit with the pocket watch?" Millie asked.

"Yes," she said, "that very same Rabbit." Sarah's lips drew into a thin line and Alice thought it best to change the topic before anything unpleasant happened. "Last time I was here, I told you that Cyrus proposed to me. Well, we thought it best to tell everybody in person that despite everything that's happened, we still intend get married and if you want, you're all invited." Probably not the best way to bring up the topic, but nothing brought conversation away from the topic of rabbits in raggedy three piece suits better than a wedding.

X~X~X~X~X~X~X~X

"So," said Edwin after a lengthy pause, "You say you're looking to have a spring wedding?" Cyrus couldn't help but notice the slightly concerned look on his face. Although this afternoon had been considerably less stressful than Alice had led him to believe it would be, he wasn't the sort to take chances and his future Father In-Law's face was enough to worry him. The looks Sarah gave him, as if in disbelief that he even existed, were enough odd expressions for a lifetime.

"Late spring or early summer," Alice corrected. They were leaning towards summer. Most of the places they were looking at were either far prettier or far less dangerous in summer.

"You must have an awful lot planned out then," Sarah said, setting her teacup back on its saucer.

"Not as much as we'd like," he admitted. Alice tensed, imperceptible to anybody who was not paying attention to her, and he knew it was likely the wrong thing to say. "But we've still got a lot of time ahead of us to figure things out."

"Not enough time to plan a wedding by the end of spring," she said.

Cyrus hadn't felt properly warm since becoming human and so was not exactly the best judge of temperature, but if he was, he would say that the room became even colder than it already was. Sarah had been for the most part, polite, but distant and cold and while he could tell that she clearly loved Millie and Edwin very much, she regarded Alice with a not insignificant amount of suspicion and seemed to have a very no-nonsense view of the world.

He idly nudged a teaspoon and glanced at the clock while thinking of an appropriate response. This was just like helping Anastasia reestablish politics in Wonderland, just a matter of selecting the right words so as not to antagonize anybody. The only question was which words to pick. An appeal to reason would likely work best in Sarah's case, explain to her that it would be a fairly low-key affair, nothing too fancy, and that the trickiest part of the whole process would be figuring out seating so that any number of invited guests who were not fond of each other did not wind up near each other. Actually, on second thought, it would likely be best to leave off that last bit.

"It's autumn in Wonderland," Alice said. Any sort of frustration that he may have felt at Alice saying something she probably shouldn't have was negated by concern at the nervous tremor in her voice and how she rushed through the sentence.

"You mean you're not staying?" Edwin said at the end of another awkward silence. His voice was just as halting as Alice's wasn't. The cycle of badly chosen words and strained pauses was to set the tone for the rest of tea.

Alice pointed out that they had obligations in Wonderland, a kingdom to help rebuild, and that here she was a mental institution escapee. Edwin returned by mentioning how time seemed to pass differently between the two worlds and how she never seemed to think of that before going off. Sarah excused herself and Millie once the discussion started and Cyrus knew it would be best for him to stay out of this. He'd been at the center of family disputes countless times and knew that there were some situations that were best to keep out of unless necessary.

He'd been at fault for almost all of the worst fights as his activities were an unending source of worry for his mother and Taj, but if there was one thing he'd learned, it was that the situation never benefited from an outside opinion. It didn't matter whether it was one of his friends, one of his mother's clients, or anybody else, it would only make things worse. Although the terse, but ultimately civil discourse was ultimately more unnerving than any sort of shouting match he could remember.

As much as it was not his place to intrude, he couldn't help but want to say something. He'd never heard Alice sound so nervous or defensive before. He'd once had phenomenal cosmic power, yet now he couldn't think of anything he could do to help. To make matters more concerning, this was not how she normally acted when angry or worried. She was making a marked effort not to sound like she was letting her emotions get the better of her whereas he was used to seeing her wear her heart on her sleeve.

For all of his experience working with people, both in his life before becoming a genie and working with Anastasia now, there was nothing he could think to say to diffuse things. Even if he could, he wasn't sure anything he could say would work as anything better than a temporary patch on the problem.

Before the Well, Alice told him little of her home life, but from what she'd told him since then, he knew there was a not insignificant amount of unpleasantness between her and her father and despite there being some reconciliation, the hurt on both ends had not healed completely. Between that and how she had been acting earlier, he felt as though he should have expected that a family reunion would be less than stellar, but things had been more or less fine until now.

He could almost hear her counting the seconds in the latest pause to sooth frayed nerves. She made do with discretely tapping a finger on the edge of the table. He could hardly understand how she did it as the seconds seemed to stretch beyond their bounds.

In an attempt to look anywhere but at either Edwin or Alice he glanced at the ornate grandfather clock between two book cases. Cloud filtered sunlight streamed from the window by the tea table, creating a glare that obscured the exact hour, somewhere between four and five. Yet the second hand still ticked on, the engraved brass spike taking far longer to pass the seven than it should have. It was a fine thing really, a bit dustier than it should have been, but with intricate scrolling around the face and carved oak trees on the sides, he could imagine dusting was a bit of a challenge.

Then over the sound of wind against the window, he heard something surprising enough so that for just a moment, the second hand appeared to jump backwards.

"I'm sorry," Edwin said, turning his teacup so that the handle faced the window. "For doubting you in the past and becoming cross with you now." It was a temporary patch. everybody at the table knew it. There is tension and bad blood, but even as an outside observer, Cyrus could tell that neither of them wanted to fight any more.

There was another, less strained pause. The beginnings of a smile began to spread across Alice's face. "I'm sorry too. It was unfair of me to be angry with you for moving on with your life."

Another pause followed. The second hand hovered at the ten for far longer than it should have, so long that it almost threatened to move backwards. The hand made good on its threat, rocking back just a fraction of a radian, before moving forwards again.

He leaned forwards to get a better look, although he knew better than to look at the clock. He should be paying attention to what was going on with Alice and her father. This was so important to her, but he wasn't imagining it. The clock hand moved backwards. It was probably just mechanical problems, but it was a curious thing. In all his years, he'd never seen a clock run backwards, even if it was only for a moment.

"Cyrus?" Alice said, breaking his concentration. "Are you alright?" When he looked at her, she'd already gotten up out of her chair. "Father was just about to show us to the guest rooms." He supposed he had heard Alice asking if they were still welcome to stay the night, but was too wrapped up in the strange clock to notice.

"Perfectly alright," he said, swinging to his feet with as much enthusiasm as he could manage. He followed them across the room, pausing for a moment in front of the clock. He almost asked Alice to count out ten seconds, he trusted her timing far more than that of any clock, because whereas before, the second hand seemed to move back, it was now racing forwards just a bit too quickly for him to believe that it had really taken almost half a minute to cross the parlor.

"I'm so sorry you had to listen to that," she whispered as they followed her father, just out of earshot, down the halls.

"Don't be sorry. Your troubles are my troubles. I only wish I could have been of more help," he said as she gently took his hand.

"If it's all the same, your family's still easier to get along with." He made a mental note to tell her about the time he'd had to stay with Ali for a week after the fall out from the Traveling Bag Ploy Fiasco.

They followed her father up a flight of stairs and down a hall. He stopped at a door on the left. "I'm sorry for the state of things. If we'd known you were visiting, we'd have made up the rooms a bit better." He polished his glasses again. "I do hope you don't mind staying here Cyrus."

"After all my time in a bottle, it would be a pleasure," he said, attempting to bring some sort of levity to things. "And any place Alice considers home is fine for me." It wasn't completely a lie. She may not have been exceptionally fond of this place, but home was any place they were together.

It appeared that his words had their intended effect as Edwin smiled tentatively at them and said, "I don't know if either of you would be interested, but the World's Fair is still in London for another week. We were planning on going tomorrow, you're more than welcome to join us if you'd like."

Cyrus looked to Alice and nodded. If she was up for it, he was. After weeks of running from Jafar, fighting Jafar, freeing his brothers, and all manner of other hazardous things, a nice, relaxing day at a fair would be a welcome break.

"I think that sounds lovely," Alice replied.