Jack hurried down the hallway, nodding to the various people he passed along the way.

Stopping outside the door to the Duchess's room, he could only pray that he was not too late. Raising a hand he knocked on the door.

"Duchess?"

He heard someone moving around in the room. Hope flared in him, with any luck--not that he had lot of that--it was her in there looking for her missing earring. He clenched the thing in his hand as he waited for a moment. Taking a deep breath, he waited. Either he was too late and someone else had already occupied the space or he was not and she simply did not want to talk to him. Raising his hand he knocked again, praying against hope that she was simply too busy to notice his knock. Sure enough he was rewarded a moment later.

"What?!" she demanded loudly, her voice high and upset.

"Its me," Jack said.

"Oh--oh," he heard her move across what had to be an incredibly messy room before the door was yanked open, "Majesty," she curtsied to him, her features schooled to blankness.

But there was the vestiges of emotions on her face. Red in her eyes, dried tears on her face. Her lipstick was marred as well. His eyes searched her face and the skin that he could see, looking for any sort of physical evidence of what had been done to her. But he could see none. If there were scars--and there always were--she was more than adapt at hiding them from plain sight. His eyes finally settled on her face, his hand seamlessly depositing the other earring in his pocket. She was wearing one earring, the other missing from her earlobe. Still despite knowing that emotion was on her face, she met his gaze with more control than he would have thought possible.

"I'm sorry," she said, "I was just getting the last of my things," she said, "I will be gone soon."

"Of course," he said.

"Is there something you need?" Duchess asked looking at him, confusion flitting across her face.

"Yes," Jack said, stopping there.

Duchess stared at him. He seemed so unsure of himself, not something she was used to seeing from the Prince--now King. She was usually more than adapt at reading him, but this time the emotion was naked on his face. Duchess felt concern surge through her. What could have affected him so much that he would show emotion so easily? She couldn't think that his time in the other World had really changed him that much. She looked at him carefully, trying to see what he was thinking. But it was very hard to do, as if he wanted no-one to see what was really going on in his head.

"Is something wrong?" she asked looking at him, "did something happen--"

"No, ah," he stopped, "I'm not--" he stopped. Duchess frowned as she looked at him, wondering why Jack suddenly sounded far more like a worried sixteen year old he had been years ago than the capable man he was today, "sorry. Don't go."

"Don't what?!" Duchess gasped, stunned at what he had just said.

"Oh that came out wrong," Jack said pressing a hand to his forehead, "may I come in?"

"Yes I think you'd better," she said stepping aside so he could come in. Her room was empty of anything but furnishings. Like most of the Court members a good deal of her possessions had been destroyed during the collapse of the building. What she did have had been packed away, "let me call the physician," she said, "I think you've hit your head."

"No," Jack said, "though I wish I had. it would probably make things much simpler,"he added, "the last few weeks, they have been insanity--for all of us," Duchess nodded, "and I don't understand what you did," he shook his head, "but I care about you--in spite of everything that says I shouldn't--and I don't want you to go."

"You just listed every reason I should go," she said crossing her arms over her chest.

"Yes, I know--but that's every reason you shouldn't go," she still looked at him, "and I'm sorry," he added.

"For?"

"For running. For not finding a way to do what I had to do without getting you into trouble--"

"I am not looking for an apology for that," she said, her hands moving to her hips, "I do not blame you for your mother's actions," he nodded, relieved. But the relief was short lived when she glared at him, "your actions, however, I do blame you for."

"You mean the proposal," he said.

"Yes I mean the proposal," she said, "and considering she obviously did not steal the ring from you, I am going to guess that you proposed to her twice," she said holding out two fingers. Jack looked away, "so you did propose to her twice," her eyes widened, "I'm leaving."

Jack looked at her, his heart sinking. Yes he had done those things but when she said it like that, it made it sound much worse. Still, in some strange way, it was both refreshing and pleasant to argue with her. She was not the type of fighter that would be any good in a physical confrontation. In a verbal one, however, Jack knew any skill he had with arguing came from the blond woman standing in front of him. But he knew he was going to have to do something drastic if she was going to forgive him--forgive him and not walk out. And maybe, just maybe, let him back in.

"Yes, I gave her the Ring twice," he said, "but the first time was only to give her the Ring so it would be safe."

"And the second time?"

"The second time I did ask her to be my Queen--" Duchess opened her mouth angrily but he barreled on, "but she had just saved Wonderland! And I still did not know what to think of what you had done--" she arched an eyebrow at him, "I'm sorry," he said finally, "I'm sorry that I ignored our engagement and proposed to another woman--" he stopped, "God, that sounds awful."

"Yes," she said icily, "and it feels less than pleasant as well."

Jack let out a breath and Duchess looked away. It had hurt, when she had seen that brown haired girl standing there and known that Jack calling her 'not his girlfriend' was anything but the truth. Though she knew that she had done him wrong, she did not know if she truly deserved to watch that. And then, even after she had saved him, he had proposed to the brunette. No, Duchess realized, it would be better for all of them if she were to simply leave. Forget any feelings that she harbored for him, focusing on the fact that he clearly did not care about her. In spite of everything--no, no she could not think of that. Not now and, with any luck, not ever.

"I need to be on my way," she said finally, "I want to be in the City by nightfall."

Jack looked at her, his heart sinking as he realized she was serious. She really was planning to leave. Honestly though, who was he to stop her? He couldn't even pull off a decent coup without assistance. How was he supposed to possibly apologize for doing what he had--apologize in any way that she would believe? She was hurt and angry and, he realized, so was he. They had both been manipulated by their mother. The difference was that he had the entire resistance to tell him what was right and what was wrong. Perhaps Duchess had known it, perhaps she had not, either way the Queen had kept her too close for anyone to reach her. Anyone but him. And he had been too wrapped up in saving the world to notice the drowning girl next to him.

"Wait," he said, stopping her in her tracks, "you truly wish to leave?" Duchess kept her back to him as she nodded, "then you should have this," he said coming behind her and holding out the earring.

"My earring," she gasped turning around, "where did you find it?"

"Thats not important," he said quickly as she reached out and took it from him.

"I was so worried I had lost it," she said walking back over to one of the smaller of her bags and pulling out her other earring, "thank you for finding it," she added with a smile.

"Of course," he said.

Duchess slipped the earrings into her earlobes, the knot in her throat lessening at the familiar weight. She had worn the earrings for a very long time, long enough that it seemed she was almost naked when they were not there. They had been a birthday gift from the Prince sitting behind her, something he had slipped into her hand moments before they went to the formal celebration thrown by the Queen. They had survived the Truth Room, survived everything the Queen did to her after that. The familiar weight that seemed to assure her that it had not been just a dream--that he had not been just a dream. Turning back around she faced the man standing in front of her, watching her carefully.

He looked every inch a King, standing there in the sparse room she had been calling her own. For the briefest moment, she wondered how he possibly could have passed for anything but a King while in that other world. But in the same breath she found herself wondering what she would possibly pass for in the City. She had to put those thoughts to the side for now. The man standing in front of her though her a manipulative creature and she knew he had chosen another over her for his Queen. They had both made mistakes, probably the greatest being their distrust of each other. But that did not seem to matter now. What was done was done and Duchess had one place to go: out the door.

"I know i have given you no reason to do so," he said, "but would you possibly consider staying?"

Duchess looked at him carefully. Moments ago she would have said no. But there seemed to be something different about him, something different in his eyes. She couldn't put her finger on it, but it did make her pause and look at him. Really look at him. Turning from him she quickly wiped under her eyes. If he wanted to play this card then fine, she would play the hand he dealt. Slowly she turned to face him fully, stepping around the bag placed on the floor. She stopped before she stood in front of him, looking instead around the sparse room. It was a trick, they both knew that, as she let him linger in the doubts of what could be going through her mind as she looked around the room with apparent curiosity. Behind her shoulder, she heard him swallow audibly and she knew one hand was itching to go to the tie knotted at his throat.

"That is true," she said, "but why don't you tell me why. Why should I consider staying here?" she turned around and looked at him, pleased to see signs of strain around his lips. Obviously even in her state she held some kind of power over him, "why should I consider staying with you?"

And suddenly she was back. This was the woman he had not realized he had longed for. The woman in front of him, the one who could make any man think she was his, who could play anyone like a master playing a finely tuned instrument--this was the woman who had somehow chosen to be with him. He had watched the evolution of this creature, from the first bat of eyelashes to the first time he had clumsily kissed her to the first time he had broken a man's nose for daring to touch her. Suddenly the almost modest dress she wore seemed tight--as tight as the tie at his throat. He was painfully aware of the bare skin at her back, skin that hid just out of his eyesight. There was no lingering fear of him running in this woman's eyes, no threat of her running like a scared rabbit. Her eyes were not wide, nor scared, if anything was to be said about the ebony lined eyes that looked at him, it was that they smoldered.

"I know what you're doing," he said, finally giving in to the urge and loosening his tie.

She was showing him her most devious side, the side that made grown men weak at the knees. A side that had only been heightened in its effectiveness by his mother's wicked hand and his absence. He knew that but that did not stop him from being affected by the woman who moved in front of him.

"Do you?" Duchess asked, stepping forward.

Jack stepped back. Just enough to keep some semblance of distance between them. Duchess matched his step with one of her own until his back hit the wall of the room. Like a predator would approach her prey, she walked forward, both painfully aware of the power she held over him. Power that she had learned from a young age, power that had only been heightened by what his mother had taught her. She stood right in front of him, close enough for him to smell the perfume that she wore. One of her hands reached out, her fingers touching the lapel of his blazer. Two of her fingers walked up some invisible ladder on the cherry red fabric, up his chest, up his shoulder until they slid across his cheek. She leaned forward, her lips barely an inch from his. His head moved automatically, the motion familiar and welcome.

"Still want me to stay?" she whispered, her eyes locking with his. He heard what she did not say, did he want her to stay after everything that she had done, after everything his mother had done to her.

"Yes," he breathed, closing the last distance between them and crushing their lips together.

Though his back was against the cool plaster of the wall, he could barely feel it from the heat that pooled throughout him. She returned the kiss eagerly, the hand that lay on his cheek dropping to her side. His arm circled her waist, pulling her closer his body. Her other hand came to rest on his shoulder, her fingers digging into the fabric as they kissed. He withdrew finally, looking down at her. She looked up at him, her eyes searching his face.

"Stay," he breathed, his voice barely more than a whisper.

She nodded, her hand sliding around the back of his neck as he ducked his head and captured her lips with his own. Just as she always had, she fit perfectly into his arms. Her fingers brushed the hairs on the back of his neck as his fingers splayed across the bare skin of her spine. Her hands slid down to his chest, her fingers skewing the blazer he wore. Jack did not care about such a thing as he continued to explore the warm cavern of her mouth. The kiss was not hurried, nor was it urgent. It was an almost languid exploration, a homecoming of sorts. One that Jack, realized, had been long overdue.

They broke apart only when there was a knock on the door. Breaking apart, she leaned her forehead against his, more than happy to let the last moments of pressure on her lips linger. Jack reciprocated the movement, seemingly trying to memorize her form against his. it had not been long since he had left, but it seemed like a lifetime when what they had missed became clear. She had been in this position, a hundred dizzying times before and each never failed to steal her breath away. This was what Jack had fought for, it was what Duchess had believed in, it was what they both had wanted--even sometimes without knowing it. Duchess wondered briefly if she had ever felt so safe, wrapped in his embrace, before deciding it didn't really matter. She saw no reason at all to leave it.

The knock sounded again.

"What is it?" Jack questioned, his voice less than thrilled.

"Majesty," the Club said, "my apologies but your presence is requested in the Throne Room."

"Always the Throne Room," Jack sighed. Duchess laughed, pressing a hand to her mouth, "what is it?" Jack asked.

"You're wearing my lipstick," she said, "come here," she motioned him forward, wiping his lip with her thumb, "there, now you are ready for the Throne Room."

"I don't suppose we could have them wait five minutes or so?" he said, tracing the slope of her back.

"Jack," she sighed, shaking her head with a smile, tugging his blazer into place "go," she said, "I'll be here when you get back."

He looked at her, confusion in his eyes.

"Why?" he asked.

"Isn't it obvious?" she said looking up at him.

"Even after--" he began.

"Yes," she said looking up at him. Jack opened his mouth but she pressed a finger to his lips, "I care about you," she said, "I always have. That is the reason I need to stay," she smiled, a bit more deviously, "until, of course, you make it up to me."

"Something I swear I will dedicate myself to fully," he said, "along with restoring order to the Kingdom and finding a way for our two worlds to live in perfect harmony."

"Good," Duchess said, her lips curving into a smile that Jack couldn't help but reciprocate, "now go," she said fixing his tie, "your people are waiting, Maje--" he pressed a finger to her lips.

"How about you agree to never call me that again?" he suggested. She smiled but nodded.

"Alright," she said, "Jack," she added.

"Thank you," he said.

"Now, you need to go," she repeated, "i won't be the cause of your lateness," she said stepping back. He made no move for the door, "I told you, I'll be here when you get back," she looked at the bags on the floor, "I need to unpack these anyway."

"I have an idea," he said. She arched an eyebrow, opening her mouth to tell him she did not think that was a good idea but he continued, "its a good one, I promise," he added quickly.

"What did you have in mind?"

"I do not think this is a good idea," she whispered.

"You have to trust me," Jack said looking at her, "this is a good idea."

"Forgive my suspicion but the last time you said that you almost got yourself killed."

"It all worked out in the end," he said.

"And I am just supposed to put faith in that for this?"

Jack flashed her a smile and Duchess sighed, knowing she was already sold on the idea. He extended his arm to her. Taking a deep breath, she laid her own hand on top of his. The gesture was formal, of course, but there was warmth in it when he laid his other hand on top of hers. Duchess looked at their joined hands and then up at his face. He looked at her without any sort of shame. If anything he looked proud to have her on his arm. The thought made her feel, well, it made her feel nice. It was not that she thought having his approval made everything alright, but simply that knowing the man beside her cared about her as much as she cared about him was a very nice thing.

A throat clearing drew their eyes to the Club that stood there. Ten looked at them with a look that was somehow both a combination of smugness and relief at the sight of them together.

"Are you ready?" he asked.

"Yes," Jack said, squeezing her hand briefly before lowering the hand covering hers back to his side.

"Yes," she echoed, "we're ready."

"Very good," Ten said, nodding to the Suite that held the door.

He stepped forward into the room first

Jack and Duchess followed.

The room was full of courtiers. Whatever had happened was enough to force even the sleepier of them to rise. Jack felt fear churn through him. For a desperate second it seemed impossible that he was expected to be the one who found a way to fix whatever the problem happening was. It was just for a moment, that blind panic moment. Usually he simply dismissed it as nothing. But this time a warm hand gently squeezed his own. He looked at the woman on his arm, the one who looked at him with the knowledge of everything he had been--who accepted everything he had been--and felt the moment of doubt vanish. He had told her they were ready and he realized, with her beside him, they were. There was no fear in him when he looked at the courtiers once more. No doubt, nothing but the firm belief that if there was a problem then there would be a solution as well.

"His Majesty, King Jack Heart of Wonderland," Ten announced, "And, Her Grace, Duchess."

Together they walked into the Throne Room.

Okay, wow, that was WAY too much fun to write.

Seriously how could you not love Jack and Duchess? For like two seconds of screentime they were kind of romantic. Anyway that's it for this two shot, but if you ask me nicely, I could be persuaded to write some more for the pairing.

So review!