A/N: One of two pieces beginning the same way but ending differently. Takes place in the middle of the movie.
Tapping lightly on the door, Alice stood in the dim hallway, waiting for acknowledgement.
"Come in," a soft voice called from within, and Alice pushed open the door and stepped inside.
The room was dark and gloomy, shrouded in shadows, but it was next to impossible to conceal the wild shock of orange hair or the ghostly white of the Hatter's skin.
"Alice!" he exclaimed, startled. He dropped all of his tools in a haphazard pile and strode toward her, covering the distance of the room in a few strides.
Alice clutched her robe tighter to guard against the sudden chill. "Hello," she said.
When she made no move to say anything else, the Hatter tilted his head with concern. "Did something happen? Is something wrong?"
Alice shook her head. "No, no, nothing of the kind." She shrugged. "I just couldn't sleep."
The Hatter nodded in understanding. "Ah."
Again she tightened her robe. "Could you not sleep either?"
"Oh no, I never sleep." He paused. "Well, I do, but not well. Or recently. Especially on the eve of the Frabjous Day."
Her shoulders slumped. "Don't remind me."
There was a moment of silence before a gleam of silver and a fluttering of lace caught her eye, and Alice walked across the room toward a table.
It might once have been a desk, but now it was so covered with fabric and needles and pins and feathers that it was difficult to see what it had once been. It did not escape her notice that most of the fabric was a light shade of blue, like robin eggs. But what captured her attention was the row of stands holding finished hats of many varying styles.
"Hatter, they're beautiful!" she cried, trailing her fingers along a velvet brim lined with dainty rosebuds. "Who are they for? The White Queen?"
Slowly, he stepped up behind her, his face softening. "Much more important than that."
"Who's more important than the White Queen?" she asked, whirling to face him. He couldn't meet her inquiring gaze, and eventually realization dawned on her. "Are they for me?" she whispered.
The Hatter anxiously twisted his cravat. "You once said you wanted a hat when you were a wee little thing," he murmured, "but I never had the time, and then your head got bigger, and I, I…" He trailed off, his eyes dropping to the floor.
Alice stared at him, then turned back to the desk. Without a word, she lifted a simple sunhat tied with a blue bow and fringed with white lace. Gently, she placed it atop her head. It was a perfect fit.
"This is my favorite," she said firmly.
The Hatter raised his eyes up from his shoes and watched her. A gap-toothed smile cracked his mask of embarrassment. "Mine too."
"How does it look?" And she did a little twirl for him, her blonde curls flying.
He chuckled. "Marvelous."
She batted her eyelashes. "Majestic?" she suggested.
"Maybe. Memorable, more like."
"Magnificent?"
Slowly he nodded. "I think so."
She stopped spinning and moved to tilt up the brim, but another hand caught it before she did. Suddenly she found herself drowning in the Hatter's startlingly green eyes.
He grinned at her, his finger dropping down to tickle her chin. "Very magnificent indeed," he said.