"I miss your hat."

Hatter looked up from his Chicken Parmesan. Alice had tried to get him to eat other things. Really. 'At least get the eggplant,' she'd reasoned one Tuesday at Horatio's—Tuesday was their Italian night—but Hatter was a creature of habit.

"Whus ruong wif muh harh?"

Alice just stared at him.

Hatter gulped and tried again. "What's wrong with my hair?"

Alice narrowed her eyes and cocked her head while Hatter stuffed another tomato-and-cheese-drowned piece of chicken into his mouth. "Do you chew?"

Hatter smiled. There was basil stuck in his teeth. How did she find that cute?

"I don't know," she said, shrugging. "It's all…. boring."

The smile fell off his face so fast Alice was oddly reminded of riding a flamingo with a shot-through motor falling from the sky. "Ouch," he said, putting his fork down and leaning his elbows on the checkered tablecloth.

"Er… I didn't mean—well, yeah. It's kind of boring. There's no other word for it."

"How about: 'normal'?" Hatter rolled his eyes. "Remember? We're trying that for a change."

Alice sighed, wringing her napkin in her hands. Shit, she'd spilled some olive oil on her skirt! "I know…"

Someone cleared their throat. "Ahh… Wouldya guys like some… uh… dessert? Here are… uh… the menus."

"Oh, no thank you, Tony. Just the check please."

"Um, my name's—"

"Shh-shh-shoo!" Hatter whispered, flapping a hand at Tom who grimaced and shuffled away, maroon vest inside out. Alice snorted. Hatter shook his head. "Alice, I don't even have a sociable secure ID number."

"Social security, Hatter."

"Right. Got it. Maybe."

"Your hair. It kind of… swishes around your eyebrows." Alice wiggled her fingers around the bridge of her nose while Hatter finished off his plate.

"We've got more important things to worry about right now than my hair, Alice."

"But… But you looked so sexy with your hat."

Hatter choked on the last piece of chicken. "Alice. Alice, are you pouting?"

"And the flippy… flipped hair and everything. And you ran a teashop. Not a construction company."

"I don't run TJ's Construction. TJ does."

Alice sighed again.

"You're being dramatic."

"No, I'm just disappointed with your lack of hat-hair."

They both sighed.

Tom deposited the bill on their table, knocking over the fake flower arrangement and apologizing profusely until Alice just righted the thing and placed her credit card in the faux-leather folder with a roll of her eyes.

Hatter and Alice stared at each other. Suddenly Hatter was blinking like mad, a blush staining his cheeks and his lower lip trembling.

"What? What is it?" Alice frowned at him while he took his tomato-stained napkin and dabbed at his eyes. "Something in your eye…. s?"

"It's just that—" His voice cracked. "—I miss my hat, too!"

"Hatter!" Alice hissed. "Are you crying?"

"Hey. You're the one with the black belt. There needs to be someone in this relationship who uses their estrogen," he sniffed.

They sighed again.

--

That Friday, Alice could be located folding laundry in their apartment on 17th Street. For his lack of hats and salary, Hatter had a great number of shirts. Where the hell was he wearing them?

The door slammed and the sounds of the elevator doors closing drifted into the living room along with the smell of dirt and Indian take-out. Hatter, looking surprisingly sexy in his wife-beater and Timberlands, flopped on the couch and propped his feet on the coffee table. Alice had a moment of 'God, he looks yummy!' while Hatter stretched his arms in the air, looking ever so good. The hard hat, though, it was too… yellow.

"My back hurts."

Oh. "Oh?" Not this again.

"My arms hurt."

"Huh."

"And my forehead hurts."

"Bummer," Alice said, rolling up a pair of socks. "Wait. What?"

"Hard hats. They're not called that just because they're hard on the outside. They're hard on the outside, too."

"You know, just because you have a British accent, doesn't make you sound smarter when you say things like that." Alice threw the rest of the socks back in the basket and joined her boyfriend on the couch.

"Love you, too, Alice," Hatter laughed, and turned to her, winking.

Alice couldn't help but smile. Hatter did indeed have an indent on his forehead from wearing that terrible yellow turtle all day at the construction site. She reached up and rubbed a thumb across it. Hatter hummed contentedly, looking into her blue eyes, breathing in her perfume, leaning in to give her a—

"Is that rogan josh?" she whispered huskily.

Hatter exhaled into her face. (This annoyed her. When they weren't… you know…)

She scrambled for the plastic bag and rustled through the bag for her dinner. "What'd you get for yourself?"

"Samosas and fig kulfi."

Alice chuckled. "Appetizer and dessert. You are so weird!"

Hatter smirked, apparently proud of himself. "You won't finish your food."

She unwrapped her curry and crossed her legs. She pierced some lamb with a plastic fork and popped it in her mouth. "How can you be so sure?"

"Alice." He patted her on the cheek. "You are a creature of habit."

"I didn't have lunch today."

"You had a big breakfast."

Alice stared at him.

Hatter stared back.

Alice blinked.

The clock chimed 6:00 PM.

"Alright I'm terrible at lying. I had brunch."

"Aha!" Hatter jumped up, raising his hands in the air and letting out a big whoop.

"Drama queen."

"I'm very male, as you well know."

"Yes I do. Now eat your samosas."

They sat contentedly for a few minutes, munching away at the deliciousness that was Taj Mahal Take-Away.

"I quit today."

Alice looked at him. "Are you serious?"

"Um. What answer would you like?"

"I'd like an explanation. You know I was fired for missing work while I was in Wonderland. How are we gonna make money?"

"You see… I don't understand this… money thing. Why can't we just do what we did in Wonderland?"

"What? Wander around in the forest and eat rodents?"

"Yeeeeah, now that you mention it, I'd miss my Chicken Parmesan."

"Pfft."

Hatter let out a short laugh. "Cute, Alice."

"I am, aren't I?"

"Mmmmmhmm," Hatter said, leaning over and kissing her on the cheek.

"You need a job just as much as I do."

"I know."

"You need a job."

"Okay. Well. How about a hatter?"

"Which means…?"

"What if I was a hatter? That is my name and everything."

"What if you were a hatter?" Alice looked at him. He knew that expression. That expression meant he was pushing too many buttons at the same time. And women have too many buttons to start out with. Men have one. Guess what it does.

Well, maybe he could get away with one more question.

"Maybe you should ask another question. What if I am a hatter?"

"You're insane."

"Mad as a box of frogs, I know."

"Hatter."

"I got a job as an apprentice to the only hatter in town."

"Hatter, that's fantastic!" Alice jumped up, abandoning her curry, which Hatter stole away immediately.

"I know!" he said around a bite.

"This is great!"

"I know!"

"There's only one thing."

"How is there only one hatter in town? I was wondering the same thing."

"There's this thing about apprenticeships, Hatter. It's like a free education."

"Well, that's cool."

"Don't say 'cool'."

"Sorry."

"You don't get paid, Hatter."

Hatter opened and closed his mouth several times, watching Alice smirk (apparently proud of herself, too). "Oh. Well, how was I to know this important piece of information?"

Alice sighed. "It's alright. We'll figure something out," she said, picking up the laundry basket to put in their closet.

"Sorry, love."

Alice looked down at Hatter, who moped while nibbling at his second samosa. He gobbled up the spicy chickpea pastry, eyes wide and unfocused, until he realized she was still hovering.

"What?" he mumbled.

"Oh," she murmured, shaking her head and turning away to head into the bedroom.

"Aliiiiiice, what's wrong?" she heard him call.

"Nothing!" she said lightly, dumping the socks in a drawer and tossing the basket in their closet. Turning around quickly, she ran into a nice, solid chest, her arms flying up to catch herself. Hatter smiled down at her, his hands slipping around her waist to rest, splayed, at the small of her back. He dipped his face low and nuzzled her nose, smiling a bit as she scrunched her nose and rolled her eyes.

"What's wrong?" he asked again.

Alice smirked, resting her hands against his chest and running her fingers across the ribbed fabric of his wife-beater. "Just imagining you with a new hat."

"Oh, really?" Hatter murmured, tugging her closer. "Is my hair all… 'flippy' in this fantasy of yours?"

She grinned, looking up at him through her lashes. "Mmhmm."

"Alice…" he squeezed her round the middle, walking her backward toward the bed. "There are bigger things than hats."

"Don't I know it," she laughed, pulling him down with her.