A/N: Last one of these for a bit. Just FYI

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I learn quite a bit more about gardening than I would have expected, in the days that follow. Speaks more to my expectations than anything else. In any case, Doctor Isley takes the time to be certain I'm capable of taking care of her 'babies' before leaving me to the work in order to check on her 'other properties'. How a fugitive from the law goes about owning multiple properties I just don't know, but I suppose I can chalk it up to this strange new time.

Time travel. Of all things.

Caring for the garden is a refreshingly straightforward task, though certainly not lacking in its own perils. The plants must be fed and watered properly, and several of them must be trimmed, all of which is entirely mundane. But given that I'm feeding many of them strange concoctions or small animals, that many of them fuss and struggle against being trimmed, and that even the trimmings themselves must be handled so carefully…

"You were never the sort for busy-work before, Alice." Cheshire grumbles one day, as I go about the job. "This is very unlike you."

I scoff, and step aside just in time to avoid a puff of mouldy-smelling dust. Chastise the bud that loosed it with a sharp rap from my pruning shears. "Really, cat, you could hardly call this 'busy-work'." A snip snip snip, and I come away with a handful of still-twitching vines, caustic sap hissing softly as it rolls off the leafy surface of my gloves. "Think of it as a daily dose of adventure. Mild, of course, but I could certainly do with a bit more of that, couldn't I?"

He grumbles, but concedes the point. Something that I know he absolutely detests. "The quiet is offering us a reprieve we desperately need. We're rebuilding, you know."

It's some of the better news I've had in some time, and I smile brightly. "Really? How lovely…"

And then he's gone again, and I'm left to continue my work. I feel all the better for it.

So it goes until the beginning of my second week in Gotham, when Doctor Isley returns in high spirits. She takes the time to ensure I've not made any unforgivable blunders and, finding my work sufficient, offers her compliments. They even sound genuine! It's been...a long time, I think, since I've heard that sort of thing, and it leaves me feeling lighter than air.

"I need a few things picked up." She tells me, once my feet are back on the ground (terribly embarrassing, that). "If you think you'd be up to the challenge, it would be a good...learning experience."

Something I am in need of. A week indoors has hardly aided me in adjusting to the world at large. "I'll certainly try my best."

"Of course you will." There's a dark sort of confidence in her tone, as she leads me out of the greenhouse. I choose to interpret it as being certain of my abilities, and not any sort of subtle warning or implied threat. The wonders of a malleable mind.

Outside, there sits one of those 'cars'. A man as well, a stranger in a while coat that jumps when he sees us. Or rather, when he sees Doctor Isley. His besotted expression makes my skin crawl.

"Johnathan, dear." I goggle at my employer's suddenly scandalous tone, as she stalks up to him. And he...no, no longer 'besotted', the man looks like he's out of his head. High as the clouds. "This is my friend, Alice. Say hello."

He blinks stupidly for a moment before turning to me. "Hello, Alice."

"Alice is going to be your assistant today, Darling." She straightens his coat for him, pats his cheek. "She'll make sure you get everything off of that little list I gave you. You don't mind, do you?"

"No, no, not...not at all."

Doctor Isley chuckles, softly, as she returns to my side, her voice dropping to a murmur. "I've 'bewitched' him very thoroughly. I'll be surprised if he lasts another day. But for now, he'll be quite useful in retrieving some important chemicals for me. With a little prodding."

"Which would be where I come in, I take it?"

"Exactly." She grins. "Play the dutiful assistant, make sure he stays focused. And of course, make sure he doesn't slip and mention anything suspicious."

All reasonable enough. Although, if I'm going to be his assistant, I'll need to look the part...at my waist, Hollow Yves shivers. Shimmering light turns broad, green leaves to starched and subdued cotton.

"And I told myself I wasn't going to ask…"

"I do have one question," I say, carefully adjusting the high collar of my shirtwaist. "Are you a witch, as well as a doctor?"

There's a long moment of silence...and then she sighs, and shakes her head. "I'll explain later." Well that's not very helpful. But then, there's no harm in waiting. Especially if there's business to be done.

"Very well." I turn to Johnathan, offer what I hope is a friendly smile. "Shall we be off, then?" He nods agreeably but says nothing, still...well, dazed. A bit concerning. "Is he fit to operate this contraption?"

"He'll be fine."

"It's just, he seems a bit...off."

"He is, but he can still-" Doctor Isley cuts off, closes her eyes, and takes a moment to collect herself. "Johnathan will retrieve the things I need, you will assist him. Try not to draw attention to yourself, don't annoy any clowns, and if worst comes to worst, tell anyone who threatens you that you're under Poison Ivy's protection."

Well, it seems a bit odd to claim the protection of a pla...wait just a moment.

"Poison Ivy?"

She ignores the question, points at the car. "Try to be back by tonight." And without so much as a proper 'goodbye', she disappears back into the greenhouse. That just leaves me with a worryingly distracted thrall and a job that needs doing.

"Perhaps spending all my time tending the plants wouldn't be so terrible." Nothing for it, though. "Come along, Johnathan. We'd best be off."

"Oh...yes, yes. Of course."

And off we go.

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I learn quite a bit, during that little outing to 'GothCorp'. Street traffic is just as tedious in an automobile as a cab. Bewitching is easily confused for distracted genius. 'Modern' companies are incredibly lax in who they will furnish with volatile chemicals. And, finally, I am entirely unprepared to strike out on my own.

"Troublesome thing, what have I-?"

"To market, to market, Alice dear."

Yes, of course, I- "I knew that." I nudge Cheshire away, frown at the so-called 'tablet'. "So free with your help, but only ever when it's unwanted." The 'home button'. Except not even that is enough to bring the pictures back. "Johnathan, I've botched it agai-" Oh, no, he's dead. I really should try to keep that in mind…

"Alice?"

And my employer has decided to investigate the vehicle pulled in beside her greenhouse. I suppose I had gotten a bit distracted.

"Neglecting your duties already. Tsk tsk."

"I'll have none of that from a cat too shy to speak to strangers." The evil smile disappears at last and, with a bit of fumbling, I find my way out of the car. "Doctor Isley! I've brought the shopping!" She gives the body slumped halfway out the driver's door a pointed look. "...with a bit of misfortune. I believe witchery didn't agree very well with Johnathan's constitution."

The Doctor gives a dark little laugh, a prickling sort of thing. Or would that be 'feverish'? More likely 'rosy', given her hair, but there are times variety-

"Alice." Oh, she's looking put-upon again. Doesn't seem terribly impressed when I put on my most professional airs. Nor when I do as I'd seen at Johnathan's workplace, tapping away at my 'tablet' and looking busy. "If you're finished, I'd like to take stock. Especially if my chemist has already expired."

Yes, of course. Perfectly understandable. "We'll be about it, then." As soon as I work out how to open the trunk again.

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I do not, to my relief, have to resort to my hobby horse. Instead, I'm treated to a rudimentary explanation of chemistry as it relates to the function of living things. And bit of heavy lifting. Being honest, I'm more comfortable with the latter. Though I do appreciate being included.

Of course, then there's the business of Johnathan, which is another matter entirely.

"Pheromones," Doctor Isley explains, "are chemicals produced and released by animals of all kinds, which have an effect on others of their species." She guides the vines a little further along, and I pass the body off readily. They seem to have an easy time of moving it than I did. "Humans produce them too, but their effects are negligible, to say the least."

That is an interesting bit of trivia. I suppose we'll just not be addressing the corpse being drawn into the flower beds? Hmm. "Many Snarks are feathered, a few have fur, but some Snarks are Boojums."

"...we're not sharing. I'm explaining things you need to be aware of."

Yes, of course. "And you have my attention, Doctor."

Seems to mollify her. "Good...now, you may have already noticed my unusual physiology."

"I hadn't, particularly."

"I have green skin."

"And it's a perfectly fetching shade."

She frowns disapprovingly, but offers no comment. I take the cue for what it is, clear my throat as I pull her seat out. "Pheromones, Doctor Isely?"

"I naturally produce a variety of toxins." she picks up her explanation again, as she sits. "But I can just as easily produce a pheromone-like chemical that's easily aerosolized and induces a wonderfully suggestive state in anyone exposed."

Well, it seems things are coming together, doesn't it? "Johnathan's helpfulness." I suppose it makes as much sense as anything else. "Quite the useful talent, that...do you take sugar? Milk?"

"A bit of...both…" The good Doctor stills, staring down at the teacup in her hand. "...tea."

"I only take tea with friends." My smile is genial, as I scoop the sugar and pour the cream. And while Doctor Isely goes about examining the little table and rickety chairs, I take a moment to fill my own cup, and take a seat. To tap the top-hat centerpiece, activating the ticking, white rabbit that pops up beneath it. "So, Doctor...are you always so casual, twisting the minds of others to suit your ends?"

Tick-tick-tick goes the clockwork bomb. And she smiles. A bitter, rueful thing, easily hidden by her cup as she sips. "So much for 'goodwill'."

"Oh, I certainly appreciate your hospitality thus far. Make no mistake on that." In fact, I'd go so far as to say I might regret having to take this course of action. "But I would also like you to understand that when my mentor, a man I trusted, revealed himself to be a murderer and flesh-peddler...why, I rather took offence to it. Pushed him in front of a train, in fact." Tick-tick-tick. "He had a terrible habit of warping the minds of those around him. Especially fond of children. You may understand my concerns."

Concerns that I had tried to put aside and ignore. Which is a terrible habit of my own, isn't it? One I'll need to work on. Starting now, and possibly ending some time in the future. Hopefully not too long. The bomb will be going off soon, after all.

The Doctor's cup clinks against her saucer, her eyes on the bomb. She must have reached a similar conclusion, given the timer is facing her. "I...have never gone out of my way to harm a child."

Was I expecting scruples from the criminal madwoman? I should appreciate her honesty, if nothing else. Do I mean to accept this state of affairs, then? I'd already resolved to entertain an arrangement here with the understanding she is a criminal. Will knowing the nature of her crimes make me into a hypocrite?

And what sort of hypocrite will I be? Shall I leave, some crimes being acceptable and others not? Or shall I stay, and put aside my history and experiences on the off chance-

"Alice."

Oh yes, the bomb. Easily dealt with; clockwork screeches and grinds, when I slam the Vorpal blade down through its neck. It sputters, clanks, lets out a sad little whine. But it doesn't explode, even when I withdraw the knife and sweep the whole mess to the floor.

And with all that done, I finally manage to relax. Two spoons of sugar, just a drop of milk. A carefully sip...ahhh.

"I'm sorry, I wasn't able to find any snacks. In the future, I'll try to be better prepared."

She doesn't respond for a deceptively long time, which goes without comment, because Hatter is not here (and I shudder to imagine how awkward that might have been). But, eventually? "It was easy enough to procure all the settings, apparently."

It was. "I've more tea-sets than I know what to do with." An absurd thought, and I raise a hand to hide my giddy smile. "Even more, lately, with so many Madcaps murdered."

"Mmm."

A companionable silence settles, broken only by the soft chime of chipped china, and the occasional, wet crunch from Miss Nibbles off to our side.

"Let me tell you a story," Doctor Isley says, lifting her cup and saucer to settle back more comfortably in her seat. "About my Botany professor, and how I almost died."

How curious. "Please, do."

So she weaves her tale of seduction and betrayal, of perilous conditions and poisonous revenge. And then myths of bats and birds, and dangerous, smiling things, and how she's crossed paths with all of them at some point or another. I offer what I can, of course. Fair being fair. Our tea grows tepid as we talk of dolls and their makers, but...well.

Good company does wonders.