Let Alice fix things (ending)

"Perhaps..." Alice said.

She paused. After a moment she shifted on her mushroom chair and leant towards her typewriter again; in moments one of the surrounding toy soldiers marched into the forest clearing, bayonet held high.

The Doctor whirled around; Rose tensed.

"And her most loyal soldier's blade was able to cut through anything," Alice quoted. "Your bindings shouldn't be a problem."

Oh. Right. The Doctor relaxed too, though Rose still hesitated.

She desperately wanted to be free of the cuffs, but it still wasn't easy to turn her back on the soldier, display her ass to what still looked like keenly aware eyes. She whimpered as she nonetheless did so, her front still on full display.

Then there was a tug, and a snip.

The moment her manacles were cut, Rose hastily crossed her arms over her front in the best pose she could think of to try and get some modesty. Oh god, they were still staring at her; no doubt they just wanted to make sure it would work, but that didn't make their gaze any less humiliating.

"Now, the transformation," Alice said. "The process wasn't complete; it wanted to make you fictional, but it didn't succeed, which means you don't have the freedom of someone real but you don't have the presence of someone wholly fictional, not even the ability to **** your way free. You're halfway through the looking glass, unable to break the mirror from either side."

"So what do I do?!" Rose said, voice still high.

"I imagine, **** the Land's hand," Alice said. She turned back to her typewriter. "If we can make it recognise the real part of you... Keep your hands where they are."

"I don't want to move them!" Rose said.

She clucthed at her tits and her pussy; it felt wholly inadequate as cover, only drawing attention to how much flesh was on display. Especially after the fact every scrap of skin had just been visible, but oh god she didn't want them to see it any more.

Not Alice, not the watching soldiers, definitely not the Doctor. She'd never wanted him to see her so mortified.

"Rose put her hands on her head," Alice recounted as she typed.

And then Rose squealed, arms moving of their own accord from her front to rest on her blonde hair. Her eyes widened; Alice quickly backspaced, and there was the slap of skin against skin in Rose's haste to cover up.

"Hey!" Rose said.

"That was a bad choice," Alice said. "Too simple. Let's say... Rose enjoyed her meal of a raspberry tart. There are no such tarts in Alice's grove."

Rose hesitated, looking around. She didn't... feel any compulsions, just the gentle breeze against her skin.

"A contradiction," the Doctor murmured. "Did it..."

"We'll see," Alice said. "I pick... the musketeer Aramis in a longcoat, always willing to help a lady in distress."

Rose was getting used to this place's weirdness. She barely jumped as a French musketeer strodes out from the trees, only flushing as he caught sight of her.

In one motion he'd whipped off his coat, wrapping it over her shoulders.

Rose breathed a sigh of relief when it didn't disintegrate, as did the Doctor; while Aramis departed, Rose hurriedly slipped her arms through it and held the garment tightly closed, still a little red.

Not permanently naked any more, and apparently not fictional. God, she couldn't wait to see the back of this place.

"Thank you," Rose said breathlessly.

"We get very few visitors," Alice said. She nodded to Rose; "I'm happy to help."

"Thanks," the Doctor echoed. "I'll try to drop in more. Never seem to get the chance for any kind of social call."

"I'll stay in the TARDIS," Rose said.

They left through the archway-portal Alice had created. One moment they were in the mushroom-filled clearing of Alice's grove, and the next they were back in the white void with a blue box just before them.

Rose fidgeted on the spot, **** to hurry inside. She closed the door behind her as soon as they were.

The Doctor meanwhile ran to the controls; he'd gotten out of the Land enough times before, he just had to find a gap in the unreality, then pilot the TARDIS through. Rose waited to the side impatiently.

Stripped, exposed, restrained, exposed some more... God, she'd be happy if she never went through anything half that humiliating again.

"Ok!" the Doctor said, "Ok! You can do it old girl."

And he was talking to the TARDIS again. Rose grabbed at a railing, instinctively knowing it was going to be a bumpy ride.

The whole time machine juddered, engines wheezing and groaning with far more of a sense of strain than before. Rose held on tightly, clinging to stay still.

But the TARDIS was unmistakably in flight, the engines shifting tone from a whine to a roar, the sound almost a fanfare as they left the Land of Fiction behind.

And as they did, the fictional garment Rose wore was left behind too. She shrieked, for a moment panicking, before she remembered what it was.

Still, attention grabbed by the sound, the Doctor looked away from the console. Rose yelped again, and gave him a view of her departing ass as she ran into the main body of the TARDIS to get a change of clothes from her room.

Never again, she told herself. Never again.

Alice stood, walking a small way from her preferred mushroom seat to a small pond. She'd designed much of the heart of her Wonderland; this appealed to her much more than the harsh technology and screens that had predated it. She hadn't been sure that would work; she'd never had to do anything like it before. Still, it seemed it had. She'd severed the fictional part of Rose from the real. Rose had left safely, as she'd been when she'd arrived, no ill-effects beyond maybe embarrassing memories.

On the other hand...

The Land accomodated for changes, creating a new apartment in the city portion of the permanently nude women genre. The fictional equivalent of Rose Tyler was waking up there, the sight of the nude blonde reflected in Alice's pool.

Maybe she should change Rose's genre before the Doctor returned. Maybe not. Alice shrugged, dismissing the image of the perpetually naked companion, only noting the flush in her cheeks. It'd depend on her mood.