Alice is sitting silently and alone at her windowsill when her mother comes knocking. "Alice...you have a nice guest here to see you today."
Her mother sounds a bit unsure but still delighted by the apparent visit, as if it's a happy mistake.
Wary, Alice studies the doorway. "Guest?"
A handsome stranger soon enters the room after her mother with practiced ease. Smooth and cat-like. He must be some sort of nobleman by the looks of it, wearing a traditional top hat, a striped silk tie, a cutaway coat with a matching grey Putnam vest. His shoes are dark and neatly polished and he also carries a pretty silver governor's cane. Perfectly-groomed black waves frame his cheekbones. His bright, clever amber-brown eyes watch her attentively as Alice blinks back at him.
Alice thinks there's something curiously fascinating about him, if not familiar. Perhaps it's how he presents himself or it's the way he seems to already know her.
Missus Liddell glances between them once more, believing everything is alright before she turns to Alice's home nurse they hired for her. "I think a spot of tea is in order, yes? Come, Lottie. You can assist me."
When they are left by themselves, in private, the man's straightforward and wastes no time. He leans in playfully on his cane, almost to tease her, amuse her, but not to frighten her at the same time. "Hello, Alice."
Her mouth parts in realization. Her eyes grow alert. That voice! Charming and cunning. It's been three years since she's heard him speak. Alice is surprised. Then again, she isn't. Now at least she understands why he feels like an old memory, an old friend.
"Cheshire Cat," she hails, breathing out. "I didn't know cats could walk in the flesh and on two legs."
Cheshire smirks slyly, mouth closed oddly enough, though all in all, his newest form seems satisfied to be accepted by her so naturally.
A month later, he arrives at the Liddell Manor again.
"What makes you come and visit me today, Mister Cat?" Alice's tone is soft and her eyes are staring off into the distance towards the green edge of the pond. A pair of swans glide their way across the surface. And idly, she twirls her parasol against the sunny warm breeze.
"Wonderland is only half-there these days," he tells her freely, "broken in whole fragments, coming all undone at the seams and being restitched by all the wrong threads."
"So...you are saying that you no longer feel comfortable in your own homeland?" Her mother isn't around to overhear them and Lottie is over there sleeping on her duties in a garden chair. So there's no need for them to put on an act. Alice does anyway, not knowing why she pretends she doesn't remember what Wonderland is. Right now, it's just easier to play stupid than be worried, and she's very tired today. Yes, that must be why. She's tired.
"You could say that." Cheshire lightly runs his humanly thumb over the smooth, pale curve of her of her wrist, stroking it for a moment. He does not push the issue further. If she wants a charade than her reality, then they both know he'll follow suit.
"And I've become a type of safe haven for you? You find comfort in knowing that I can possibly relate to that sentiment? That you and I have something in common, and we can share the same secret?"
Subtly, low in chest, the man beside her starts to purr. "Yes."
He takes her right there in her bedroom while her mother is sitting one level below them, oblivious.
He's all wonders, hot skin, and hungry touches. Alice flushes in every place he caresses her, and she doesn't stop him. Between kisses, he unfastens his trousers, lifts her skirts to her knees and presses her tightly up against the wall. They make love, feverish and quick. His lips fall on the base of her throat and she relishes how he feels inside her, in spite of how wrong it all seems. Like Wonderland itself, their sensual affair isn't that logical and it can't really be described in ordinary words. She doesn't even recall how it started or which one of them gave the first kiss. But she's grown up, and so has Wonderland, thus, her favorite companion in this story became her lover.
Alice's mother is under the impression that this man will save her from ever going back to the Asylum. She flits about the town, boasting to the other women that he'll soon sweep Alice off and start a new life that's untainted and wonderfully average for a girl her age.
(Little does the family know, he's the same smiling cat who was a large role in her wild fantasies that they fear so much. That's their lovely, nasty little secret. And Cheshire doesn't intend to do such thing. He won't bother rescuing her from madness, because why would he? Everyone's mad in Wonderland.)
Her breathing becomes rapid, and louder as she reaches her limit, quivering, and Cheshire quiets her with a hand over her mouth so she can't draw attention.
After they recover, they concentrate on helping each other straighten out their hair and clothing before heading back downstairs. Alice's sister has just arrived for suppertime.
"Please, Alice. Come back." Cheshire's whisper sounds like like a vow, like an incantation. He lifts the butcher knife carefully by its blade, wanting her to take hold of the hilt. "Come back and fight. Be our rightful Queen."
Slowly, but surely, Alice reaches out and grips the knife, fitting her fingers around it. It feels familiar, out of habit, and she looks down at her reflection in the cool shiny steel, It fuels her with desire and passion.
She's decided. "We've got work to do, Cat."
She's ready, which is why by and by the cat there grins ever so widely.