A/N: Hello all! Thank you so, so, much to all of my reviewers and readers!! I am extremely grateful to have such wonderful readers who are enjoying my stories, you all are the best! After much deliberation (and my Jabberwocky analysis essay for class), I went ahead and wrote this. I hope you all enjoy reading this just as much as I did writing it. I'll admit, it is quite different than the others I've done. After all, this isn't from Alice's point of view : )

A/N/II: I am so sorry that this entire story is in bold. I am trying over and over to get it to not be bold, but unfortuantly, its being VERY stubborn. I apologize to any and all that it looks the way it does. I will continue fixing it until it looks normal and at least semi-sane.

Summary: Hatter ponders the letter B.

Disclaimer: I do not own Tarrant Hightopp or Alice in Wonderland. I don't own the letter B, or M, or A, or Y, or Chessur, or the infamous Hat. Chessur sounds like a troublesome feline anyway—I don't need a cat who can materialize in the fridge, really.

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I'm thinking of things that begin with the letter...B.

It is a habit of mine to do M—it is one of my favorite letter's, after all. Next to the very delightful A.

I don't feel like M today, however.

I felt like F yesterday. Days before, it was T. Of course, I don't think I'll try Y again. I ended up in such a terrible fit that my Alice had to stop me from upending the table over Chessur when he proceeded to attempt to float away with my beloved hat, saying he had asked me and I had said 'Yes'!—'yes' begins with a Y, you see—before Alice had talked him out of it such terrible thievery! Y words are rather annoying anyway. I much prefer M—and A.

Generally, it is my morning exercise to pick a letter and think of words to entertain Alice with—she does laugh at some that I come out with—she has a most beautiful laugh. It's like a sweet, silver bell.

However, Alice is concentrating extra-hard this morning. I suspect she is thinking of impossible things—sometimes, this is her morning exercise, and on these morning's, I see fit to keep quiet and let Alice concentrate on her impossible things while I observe her.

My Alice looks beautiful today. Ah! There it is! B—for Beautiful. Beautiful Alice. Actually, I don't find that very adequate at all. I would use radiant, or perhaps exquisite, or perhaps divine. Rather, all three are worthy. I do believe that is closer to my Alice.

She is wearing a pretty, pale blue today. Callay, a B! There it is again! Then again, Alice generally wears blue—it is her favorite color. Pretty Alice has all sorts of fine dresses in blue—and hats—I make them for her, you know. I sometimes get an idea, and must rush to write it down or tell her about it—she'll remember, my Alice never forgets, not ever, she has an excellent memo—

"Hatter?"

I jump. Oh dear, oh dear. I had been saying that last bit out loud! But she is smiling. My sweet Alice is not angry with me, no, she merely gives me that sublime smile and returns to her breakfast, tendril's of blond hair falling around her face—oh! Another B! Another glorious B!

But wait...blond is not befitting either, not of dear Alice. Alice's hair is anything but blond. Blond is plain, like butter. Alice's hair shines like the sun, woven with pale gold and silver. Threads of gold and silver that frame her eyes. She has resplendent eyes; they are big, and brown. Brown. B—wait! No.

No, wait. No. Brown. Brown is so mundane—anyone can have brown eyes after all—but no one can have the eyes of my Alice. Alice's eyes are a rich chocolate, flecked with hazels and golds, surrounded by a fringe of beautiful lashes. A most beautiful shade that could never be compared or confused with the lowly Brown.

In mere minutes after my outburst, it appears she has completed her morning exercise and comes over to me, and I am happy to welcome her in my lap. She kisses me—it is gentle—and I smile at her before giving into a more passionate 'good morning' kiss for the fourth time this morning.

"Alice..." I am quite content—she makes me so—and her cheeks and lips are quite a fetching shade of pink. More B words flood my brain at her flushed features. "Alice...my beautiful, brave, blushing Alice..."

I'm pondering words that begin with the letter M.

Magnificent. Muchness.

Mine.

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