Pick a character, pairing, or fandom you like.
2. Turn your music player on and turn it on random/shuffle.
3. Write a drabblet/ficlet related to each song that plays. You only have the time frame of the song to finish the drabble; you start when the song starts, and stop when it's over. No lingering afterward! No matter how whacked out your drabble is.
4. Do ten of these, then post them.

Firebird's Daughter—SJ Tucker

He had never seen her dance before. He'd seen her move, writhing and wanton, body bowed with a sheen of sweat as she called his name in a guttural groan. He'd seen her fight, aggressive and hard, showing no mercy as her gaze held some far-off anger, some ancient pain that she would never tell him about even after she was spent from a long session in the dojo. Dancing, though…Hatter decided that he had never seen anything more beautiful, more wonderful, than Alice dancing. The bonfire flickered, casting her in a glowing orange light as her dark hair flew about her face like tendrils of night itself, her white dress swirling and nearly insubstantial as she threw her arms wide and spun closer, her face turned up to the sky. No trace of hurt lingered on her features then, no sign of the girl grieving her father, the woman striving to be independent, the lover learning to love. She simply was and the dance poured out of her as laughed, tinged by a sip of wine and a glut of cheer, the old year slipping away as her friends shouted in the new.

Sun Goes Down—David Jordan

When she thought about it, it was thrilling. More thrilling than how he made her feel, how he touched her, how she responded to him and even more thrilling than how he responded to her. Hatter was other. He was not human like her—he was something else entirely. Still a man, but so so different than any other, even Jack. He was, she mused, looking on his shirtless body as he slept, sprawled across her double bed, a child of the night, something dark and mysterious but not menacing. Her fingers tangled with the silvery moonlight in his hair and she moved closer, her heart pounding like a drum. She leaned in close, her breath catching as his eyes opened a sliver and he reached for her.

Brand New Key—Rasputina

"What in the name of all the tea in Wonderland are you doing?"

"Skating! Come on! You can't just sit there!"

"Watch me!"

Alice's laugh echoed over the almost-empty rink. "Come on, Hatter! This place is going to fill up with kids in an hour and you really don't want to be hugging the wall when some five year old goes sailing past you backwards and on one foot!" She underscored her words with a demonstration of just what she meant. "Come on! It's not so bad!"

"Speak for yourself," he muttered, shakily standing. His legs wobbled and his feet flew out from beneath him, his bottom smacking down hard on the shiny skating rink floor. "Bloody aces, that hurt!"

"Oh, come on! You can fly across Wonderland on a flamingo but skating scares you?" she circled him, her hair flying in whisps about her face as she smiled down at him, making her look more carefree than he had ever seen her, even in their happiest and most intimate moments. "Give me your hands, I'll show you how to skate. I promise I won't let you fall."

"I'll drag you down," he warned, getting to his feet with all the grace of a newborn foal.

"Then we'll be down together."

Thank God I'm Pretty—Emilie Autumn

Alice stared at her face in the mirror. The bruises were long gone, faded almost half a decade ago. The marks on her neck were barely a memory now, visible only when she closed her eyes and concentrated. Her mother never spoke of it, hadn't since the day Alice became an instructor at her old karate school, moving from student to teacher. "I don't understand why you want to work for those people," Carol had practically spat. "After what he did to you there…"

"He's not there anymore," Alice had replied, her voice flat and hard. "He's gone forever, remember?" The horror of that night, the terror she had felt as hands closed on her neck, hot breath in her face… You're so pretty, he had said. You really don't need to do karate…Let me protect you…

"What's going on?" Hatter's voice interrupted her dark reverie. Reflected in the bathroom mirror, his concern was evident as she opened her eyes and stared back at him.

"Just getting ready," she smiled, the expression not quite reaching her eyes.

"Are you sure that you're alright?" He obviously didn't believe her and stepped closer, reaching for her.

"Fine, I'm fine!" She jerked away, unable to stand the idea of Hatter's touch being linked to the memory of the attack, a horror that existed long before he was known to her. Don't say it, she thought as his lips parted. Please don't say it.

"You look wonderful," he said, and she sighed in relief.

"Thanks." She smiled again, the expression tight. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Alice…"

"I'm fine Hatter," she said, turning to face him. "I'll be fine." He nodded slowly and backed out of the room. She closed her eyes again and pressed her fingers to her brows. If she was lucky, if he didn't insist on coming with her today, she'd never have to explain to him what a parole hearing was and why she had to go to one for the man who had helped make her what she was.

Raven's Lore—Spiral Dance

Hatter smiled at the brightly lit trees and the pile of presents beneath them. He grinned at the jangling bells the ringers waved as he and Alice left shops and businesses in the course of her errand-running. He laughed aloud at the stockings, once Alice explained why they were there and that people weren't just drying their clothes. "Sorry, love, we just don't do Christmas in Wonderland."

"That's awful," Alice said flatly. "Everyone needs Christmas!"

"Well, we do something else." He scooted closer to her on the bench where they had stopped to watch the skaters zip around the silver, hard ice. "Winter Eve."

"…Winter Eve?"

He nodded, his eyes half-closed as he saw some far-away place, a far-off time. "It's the celebration of the longest night—that's the same, even in Wonderland. The moon rises high, searching for her lover the sun. It's an old holiday, back from before Wonderland was Wonderland."

Alice stared at him, torn between a giggle and interest. Finally, she leaned in closer. "The moon's lover is the sun?"

"Some think so. Like I said, it's quite old." He shrugged and looked a bit sheepish. "The story is really quite long and dull for oysters to hear."

"Hey! No oyster mess! Tell me? Please?"

He sighed again but Alice could tell that he wanted to talk about it, to share some little bit of Wonderland with her once more. "Ages ago, there was this knight—no, it wasn't Charlie, thank whoever is in charge…"

Evil Night Together—Jill Tracy

"I'd kill for you," he whispered into her hair. She did not move, her breathing did not falter. Encouraged that she was still asleep, Hatter continued. "I'd kill for you, I'd die for you, and if you asked me to, I'd leave you but it would kill me to do it." He ran his fingertips, those of his right hand, down the side of Alice's face, to her throat, tangling them in her hair and closing his eyes as her breath tickled over his knuckles. "I would've smashed Jack's pretty face in if I thought it'd help," he admitted. "And I'd have made sure no one ever knew that it was me." He breathed in her scent and felt drunk with it, intoxicated by her nearness, her absolute presence. He stretched out beside her, his fingers still in her hair. "If you asked me to," he repeated, "I'd do it."

Alice stared at the dark ceiling of her bedroom and turned Hatter's words over and over in her mind. She would never ask him to do it but just knowing, just being aware of the depth of his love (obsession, her mother called it) for her… She was almost ashamed to admit that it made her feel warm all over, oddly cherished and needed… "Hatter," she whispered, and he didn't respond. She leaned close, shifting so that her lips were near his ear. "I would, too."

Johnny I hardly knew ya—Dropkick Murphys

Not all wars left scars on the outside, Alice thought, watching Hatter as he moved through his closing tasks at the bar. It wasn't his ideal job but, as he said at least once per day, it passed the time while he saved money for the tea shop he longed to open. Sudden noises would sometimes make him jump and reach for a weapon that wasn't there. The smell of some liquids made him visibly pale and look as if he wanted to retch, especially if the liquids were brightly colored and came in glass bottles. Being low to the ground, on the first floor of a building for example, made him nervous and edgy. She had taken to picking him up at the bar, no matter how late he worked or how early she had to be up, to ease some of his fears. Looking around, she realized that the place was a minefield of triggers for Hatter's unease—the liquor on the shelves, the thumping bass of the music, the dark and ground-level space… He was in his own Hell. She watched him as he walked towards her, his smile fixed and eyes darting to seek and avoid danger. His legs seemed stiff, as if he were trying not to run. "I wish I'd known you before," she blurted as he neared her.

"What?"

"Before the war in Wonderland, before you…" she trailed off under his intent and quizzical gaze. "Nothing. I guess I'm just punchy. Long day at the school for the new full time instructor." Her smile was forced but he didn't seem to notice. The ghost of a memory flickered over his features as they stepped out into the street and his arm went automatically around her waist. "Let's get home, okay? Have some tea and go to bed."

Hatter nodded. "I think I may quit this place, Alice," he sighed.

She nodded. "Good."

Redemption Song—Bob Marley

Hatter wasn't sure when it happened, just that it had. He looked at Alice where she sat clicking away at that odd, flat box she kept open on her lap most evenings, her fingers flying over the lettered squares, and he smiled. He wasn't afraid anymore. Even at his most cavalier, he had lived in fear while in Wonderland. For the first several months in Alice's world, he had been afraid. A certain look from a woman on the subway, a fraction of a conversation that sounded too familiar, too Looking Glass, and he'd shudder, feel queasy, but still know he had to go down fighting—if not for his own hide, then for hers. He watched Alice click away, her brows furrowing as she muttered about MLA formatting (whatever that was) and sources for some project (which he would routinely attempt to derail for more quality bed time) and he realized that the fear was gone. Echoes of the Queen's propaganda no longer rattled through his thoughts at near-constant intervals. No trace of paranoia lingered when someone knocked on the door, when someone smiled at him or asked him how he was doing, if he were well or happy. He was, he realized, well and truly free.

"What're you grinning about?" Alice asked, glancing up from her thesis proposal. "You look like the cat that ate the canary."

"I don't know about all that," he laughed, launching himself at her and sending the orange box thing clattering to the floor, "but I'm free, Alice!" He kissed her hard and fast. "Free, free, free!"

Ma Vie en Rose—Edith Piaf

"Hold me," Hatter whispered, tugging Alice closer. She nodded, her eyes closed and her breathing quick and uneven. "Shhhh..."

"I'm not scared," she insisted, her fingers skimming over his bare chest, her body shuddering as they pressed close together. "I'm really not." This wasn't new to her but it was, a paradigm shift of sorts. She was by no means innocent, and neither was Hatter, but this was as if she had never been with a man before. And maybe, she thought, she hadn't, not truly. Not till now. Her heart raced in her chest and she shivered again, reveling in the feel of Hatter's fingers skating down her spine to the curve of her hip, cupping her bottom and holding her tightly against him. "Are you?"

"Am I what?"

"Scared."

"Terrified," he admitted, laughing. "I feel like springtime in the Red Queen's garden. Roses all over."

She shook her head, laughing then as well. "I feel like we're not really here, like this is happening to someone else." She squeaked as Hatter growled against her neck, his teeth barely scraping her flesh and sending frissons of pleasure down her arms.

"It's definitely not anyone else."

Lady Marmalade—La Belle

"She asked if I wanted to have some fun!" Hatter shouted through the closed bedroom door at Alice. "I didn't know she meant that!"

There was a long moment of silence, then the bedroom door flew open. "You expect me to believe that you don't have hookers in Wonderland?"

"Hookers?"

"Prostitutes! Ladies of the evening! WHORES!"

Hatter recoiled at Alice's volume. "Alice, sweeting, I had no idea! In Wonderland, it's…well, it's different. Legal, for one thing… and they don't really do it for money. Or tea. They just…trade."

"I don't even want to begin to know the mechanics of Wonderland's prostitution rings!" She slammed the bedroom door again, making Hatter growl in frustration. "You can't possibly expect me to believe that you're that naïve, Hatter!"

"She asked if I wanted to have fun," he protested. "I thought she meant something else entirely! Sex isn't fun!"

"WHAT?"

He winced and sank down to the floor, pressing his face against his knees. "I'm shutting up now!"

"That," Alice snarled through the thin wooden door, "might be the best idea you've had all day."