Therapy
Author's Ramblings: People out there must be saying: What are you doing get back to 'Monster in the Closet' Fic!
Well I recently got my Alice in Wonderland Combo (DVD, BlueRay, the works) finally, and a friend of mine suggested this particular idea a very long time ago, but only now have I got the inspirations… *sighs* By the way I don't make justice to the Hatter's insane dialogues, and this fic makes no sense. I hope to link it to two particular pieces I'm currently writing, one for Alice in Wonderland the other for Sorcerer's Apprentice. I just wanted to write this for the whole therapy thing, so sue me. So you are warned this fic makes no sense…
Well I hope you like it!
The call had an impeccable timing. David Stutler had been in the middle of a final and the professor had given him a glare that meant that if he did not stop the particular offensive item from ringing and vibrating in the middle of the class he might/might not be kicked out of the quiet classroom.
The funny thing was that Dave had made sure his cell phone was off and home when he left his apartment this morning.
What meant it could only be one person in the whole wide world.
Hurrying to finish the test and knowing something was quite off today (it wasn't every day that Balthazar got his cell phone to teleport from it's hiding place and to the open, usually it was the contrary) Dave handed the perfectly done test back into the professor's hand and ashamed hurried out the class room. The glares he received as he did so were not of having disrupted the concentration the general classroom was sporting to keep, but because he'd finished a killer final exam in fifteen minutes, without even breaking a sweat. Having Balthazar as mentor was of some use after all… Not that he needed the help thank you very much.
Once outside the classroom, to a semi freedom that summer months brought along with the knowledge that his particular summer he was not taking any advance courses, Dave pulled out the cell phone hiding in the back pocket of his bag and groaned when he saw the caller. Indeed it was Balthazar.
"Hello, my tormentor."
"I've been called tormentor before, Dave, you wouldn't like what I could do to you."
"You knew I was having a final today why are you calling?"
"I'm fine thank you for asking."
"Balthazar…" He started, in a whine, but was interrupted by his master's stern voice.
"I need you to bring scones, individual cakes, and sweets. Pronto."
"What?"
"Angel cake, tartlets whatever, just bring as many as you can as soon as you can."
"Balthazar…"
"David." A moment of silence, Dave usually fell quiet when Balthazar called his given name. "Just do as I say."
And Balthazar had hung up the phone. Dave frowned, looked down at his phone, and arched an eyebrow.
A text message arrived at that moment; he opened the little link and read: Stop staring, get moving now! Ok, so he was supposed to get to some bakery buy insane amounts of any sort of sugary confections and then take them to the Arcana Cabana. Not that his master's requests ever made sense but this was… plain weird. So unless Balthazar was having a tea party with some old friends (and he tended to have some weird old friends) Dave could not think of a good idea for the strange
It took fifteen minutes to reach the bakery Balthazar so much liked, then another fifteen to fill out the order (for which Dave intended to get a full refund, $186 just for sweets was not a way to blow his rent money), and by the time he was stepping through the heavy glass door, having a bit of troubles to keep the boxes from topping over, Dave received a second text.
Where are my sweets!
With the world around him too busy to look at what he was doing, Dave sighed, shrank the heavy load and made his way towards the old story his master owned. Probably this was for Veronica, who was six months along her pregnancy, a pretty good reason why Balthazar was urging him to hurry back, or maybe the old man was having a bad day and needed to sweeten things up.
Where are you? And the sweets?
Turning on the corner, Dave saw Veronica standing outside the old building, looking quite worried. Becky was with her, holding a large back from one of those stores they usually visited to show the younger sorcerers where to buy the good stuff for spells and potions. The blonde seemed surprised to see him there, while Veronica let out a literal sigh of relief.
"I was growing worried. Where are the sweets?"
Dave frowned.
"And here I thought you were worried about me."
"Usually, Dave love, I would worry about you. But right now I'm worried about Balthazar's sanity to wonder about you."
"What?" At his question, Veronica gave a second profound sigh, almost as if her child were the one sighing and not the future mother. She then fixed her skirt, that was a little powdered with flour of powdered sugar, and moved to the door.
"Come with me, there's something I want to show you." She said softly, taking the handle and then turning to the two apprentices. "Whatever you do try and show no surprise."
"Why?"
And she opened the door.
The store had been cleared up.
That was not odd that was downright worrisome.
There was a pair of furniture; a high chair and a chaise lounge.
Balthazar wore his gold rimmed glasses, a pair of clean slacks and clean shirt. It was cold outside so he'd opted for a long sleeved shirt, his shoe were (as expected) pointy, and dark; he held a notepad over his lap, legs crossed and a pen in his other hand. He was scribbling away quickly on the yellow paper, listening to the man dropped on the chair. And if this was not enough, things started to get out of this dimension weird.
The man dropped over the chaise wore a bright blue jacket, with a stripped blue and white shirt underneath, there was a ribbon, of plaid similar to the one Dave wore but in green and yellow. His amazingly orange hair was thick and looked well kept, except for the fact that he seemed to wear his hat too much and it had taken the shape of said item. The trousers the man wore reminded Dave of moves like Sherlock Holms or those romance novel's Becky was so very fond of. He sure was a badly dressed Mr. Darcy… No wait, Mr. Darcy was supposed to be the ideal man this guys was just… Pale as white, with eyes wearing thick purple and pink shades, with pink lips and as he spoke the sound of a lisp was quite palpable (because there was no other way of describing it). His voice was soft, quite hurried, but still soft.
"And I still don't' quite get it, why oh why did she had to go and say that sort of things? Is quite incomprehensible; as is the idea of no blueberries in scones, or butter without milk, or tea without cream and sugar…" Here the man turns to Balthazar, who is still writing down his notes hurriedly. Dave had to lean a bit back; the thick orange from the man's eyes turned to a gentle yet electric green, and he seemed quite intend in discovering something. "Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?"
"Because Poe wrote on both of them." Answered Balthazar plainly, voice as cool and collected as ever.
The man dropped over the chaise frowned, the thick bushes he had for eyebrows knitting together for that long minute he seemed to consider the answer. He then dropped his head back to the comfy looking pillow and continued to ponder in the idea of Poe and desks… "Is that tea time I smell?"
That got Balthazar to turn and look at his apprentice. "I believe it is."
Although the conversation had been quite distressing for the man the idea of having some tea seemed to cheer him up.
Veronica had decided to take this particular hour to rest.
"What a delightful thing you call scones, Balthazar, but I must admit they are daringly boring."
"Thank you Hatter, I try my best."
Boring? These were the best scones in the whole of New York City! Dave had been struck with horror when the man simply threw the scone to the other side of the table, not apparently caring about its origin or landing, and it wasn't until a particular soft piece of angel cake landed against his nose that he understood the need for Balthazar to cast a shield around himself.
"And you are the Prime Merlinian. Drab little thing."
Dave's anger flared at this moment; the man's green eyes seemed lot laugh at him while Balthazar placed a hand over his apprentice's shoulder to set him down. Balthazar sipped his tea, as if nothing had happened, and Dave just huffed at his master.
"Balthazar why you…?"
A scone hit Balthazar's shield, and the sorcerer just sighed.
Dave thought many things would continue to be fairy tales, or simply legends; but as it turned out many things did existed, even if he wasn't aware of them. It made Dave wonder, what other fairy tales were real, who of it's characters still lived, or were currently struggling against the curses described in children's tales. Becky had decided to skip the whole tea party, apparently taking Veronica's plea to accompany her to her chambers, and for a second Dave was jealous.
Balthazar had presented the man as Tarrant Hightopp, better known as the Mad Hatter.
"So Alice slay the Jabberwocky, interesting."
"Yes, yes. Her muchness had much returned, but it took a while to convince her she was the right Alice. Poor dear seemed so confused with her destiny."
"And what happened after she did her duty?"
"She returned home, for seven long years. Time was so upset it stopped ticking again, but it was already angry at me for killing it."
"Indeed it was."
"What's going on?"
Balthazar waved his hand and Dave just frowned and turned to the man serving more tea through the broken tea cups. The tea cups had not been broken at the beginning of the small tea party; they were actually broken as the man slid into the high chair at the very end of the table; he just looked at the drab little things, shattered the belly of each cup against the clothed table and proceeded to offer tea to the sorcerers.
"Then Alice returned and decided to stay with us. Oh Callooh Callay!" He continued quickly, the separation of his front teeth visible as he smiled. "The wedding was quite The Event, the flowers are still talking about Dear Alice's bouquet."
"I'm sure."
"Then came the blissful years of marriage." He frowned, staring down at his empty tea cup. He'd served tea for six by now. "More tea?"
"Mm." Dave just stared at the other two, before a scone found it's away against his forehead. This was getting old.
"I'm sorry but where are you from again?"
"Underland. I serve as Hatter to the white queen."
"Why would a queen need a hat? Doesn't she have her crown already?"
A moment of silence, in which Balthazar almost slams his head against the table but the Mad Hatter started laughing. "Funny thing, Mr. Blake, you have as apprentice."