Chapter 1/6.

Disclaimer: As always, I am simply borrowing Alice, Hatter, and Wonderland to play with for a bit. =)

May have minor references to my complementary one-shot story, Figment of Me.

The Mad Hatter was scared to death.

He stood under the tree, clutching his box and bouquet of flowers.

This world was so dim – not even after closing his eyes and shaking his head several times could he make the colours come. It was so still and silent.

He was afraid to take a step. He mustn't make noise least anyone hear him.

"You should go to the garden, where she'll come out during the afternoon. She always does. Otherwise she won't see you." Those were the White Rabbits final instructions. So naturally Hatter did just the opposite and stood stock still where he had come up.

It all started when he heard the White Rabbit had returned from the Otherland.

On that lovely day the Mad Hatter sat at his tea table and waited. The Rabbit would join him for tea, of course. His table was the rabbit's second stop (after the Queen's) and the good rabbit was always becomingly prompt. Hatter really was very anxious to hear the latest news, and his insides felt all squirmy. He sat there and tapped his feet. Then his fingers. Then he wiggled his ears. He rolled his eyes.

The March Hare rearranged his utensils for the twelfth time. Doramouse was sleeping.

Hatter wished someone would talk to him. Give him a riddle.

"Time for tea!" The March Hare's gigantic pocketwatch squawked. "Time for tea!" It did this periodically, without any particular rhythm. That's what happens when it is always teatime in Underland. "Time for tea!" The Hare himself echoed.

But it just so happened that it really was time for tea. Hatter shot up as he saw the White Rabbit approach. "Oh, I'm so glad you're here. Your absence I was beginning to fear. Now, sit down and take some tea, my dear."

White Rabbit stared at him. "Er – Hatter, why are you rhyming? Is it Rhyme Day today?"

Hatter giggled in surprise. "Oh… er, not precisely. I didn't even realize what I was saying. Just anxious, I guess." He took a deep breath to compose himself.

The White Rabbit took a stool and generously helped himself to some afternoon delights. "Well, Alice is back," he said frankly, without permeable. Hatter liked that about him. He didn't like small talk and really was very anxious to hear the news of his friend.

"Is she?" He said eargerly.

"Yes. Looking sick as a hare, I might add." ("Hey!" The March Hare interjected, "that isn't how that saying goes!") "She's incredibly thin."

"Oh." The Hatter pondered this for a moment. "Well, her size always seems to be changing. Too big one minute, too small the next." He smiled fondly at this memory. "Has she learned to speak anything new?" (Last time, the Rabbit had informed him that Alice had picked up a new language from her travels abroad. It was something called "Chinese" and sounded very exotic even to the Hatter's well-trained gibberish ear. Either that, or the Rabbit had butchered his imitations of it.)

"Not this time I don't think. But she does have a lot of queer new things. She brings them outside sometimes. Today she brought out a big wooden box and had her mother stand in front of it for hours. The box churned out something of a permanent image of Lady Kingsley. It was one of a kind, let me tell you."

"Yes, yes, that sounds lovely." But Hatter wasn't really interested in the details of Lady Kingsley and the box. He wanted to know more about Alice.

It had always been this way, ever since the Rabbit came back that one time and told him that he had run into Alice by mistake. He was passing by the gardens of her home in the Otherland, and ducked behind a shrub just in time. The Hatter had been feeling very blue ever since Alice left Underland, but when he heard this he suddenly had a brilliant idea. Could the Rabbit – if it wasn't too much trouble, of course – drop in on her when he visited that world? The Rabbit had agreed, and in the days following, Hatter had felt better. On the days when Rabbit came to visit, he would feel very good, indeed.

To be sure, Alice wasn't home very often – most of the time she was off sailing on her boat, it seemed. And he never asked Rabbit to do anymore than to just catch a glimpse of her – but that was enough, knowing that she was somewhere out there. Rabbit was very generous about it, and answered all of Hatter's questions to the best of his knowledge. And being out and about so often, White Rabbit was quite knowledgeable.

What does she like to do?

"She's usually just walking. She walks a whole lot. Sometimes she gardens. Sometimes she reads."

What does she read? Oh… what is a "novel"? Oh, I see.

What is her favourite flower? …Daisies? Purple ones? No? They only have them in white?

What does she bring back with her when she travels?

Does she like being in the sun?

Does she like dancing?

Does she smile a lot?

Is she growing?

Does she eat cake?

What time does she take tea?

What does she like for tea?... WHAT? YOU DON'T KNOW?

"Hatter, they take tea inside."

"… But why? That isn't right – what other place besides a garden can you properly have tea?"

And on and on. He liked hearing about what she enjoyed, in particular. It always gave him a satisfaction to know that they liked the same things.

But now White Rabbit was telling him another piece of news. "A birthday? You mean, like an un-unbirthday?"

"I heard her mother talk about it while she was posing for the box. 'Alice, your birthday is coming up'. I imagine it's quite like an unbirthday, but they celebrate themselves only once a year." ("How backwards!" proclaimed the March Hare.)

One special day to celebrate yourself. Hmm, it wasn't such a bad idea. "And what do they do for an un-unbirthday?"

"Just birthday, Hatter – you are getting confused."

"Oh okay… fine. Just birthday, then. What do they do?"

"Well… I was passing by a garden one time, and came across this very event. There were a lot of people, a lot of music. And they had dancing. There was a lot of food, and a lot of drinking. The birthday person gets a lot of gifts. They blow candles on a big cake. There is a lot of noise, and a lot of madness."

The Mad Hatter was really starting to like the sounds of that. "And what did Alice say about hers?"

"She didn't say much. I don't quite think she is looking forward to it," the Rabbit answered gravely.

"Not looking forward to it!" Hatter echoed in dismay.

"Her mother asked what she wished to do – she said nothing." ("As in, she really said nothing? Or she said she wished to do nothing?" The March Hare queried.) The White Rabbit took the opportunity of ignoring the Hare and helping himself to a sugar donut. "When her mother asked if there was something she would like for a gift, she did say one thing, though."

There was a moment of silence while the Rabbit bit into the donut.

"She said she would like a hat."

"A hat? A what kind of hat?"

"Oh, well – she didn't say."

The Hatter pondered Alice's strange request. As much as he missed Alice, it didn't occur to him to ever think she would miss him, too. He had all the time in the world. She was busy, out doing great things. He was mad. She wasn't. But if he remembered correctly to when they had been together (how could he forget?), they had always thought the same things – felt the same way. Things were so easy when he was with her – he sometimes wildly imagined he could read her mind. So why couldn't he now?

Hatter took a deep breath, and imagined Alice. She was lonely up there. The White Rabbit had never heard her laugh. Alice had told him once about the snotty people who inhabited her world – they didn't sound very nice. Plus, the one time she had seen him, Rabbit described how she had chased after him and it took all his wits to get away. She must wonder about him some. If he was her, he would wonder about him. (Hatter confused even himself for a moment with that one.)

While he could sit here on his comfortable chair and hear stories about her – thanks to Rabbit – Alice had nothing. She hadn't heard from him in… well, Hatter couldn't be bothered to do the math. But it was a long time. Was she thinking about him? He wasn't so vain as to think that Alice would actually miss him. But maybe she was worried about his health! (Though he had always been quite well, thank you.)

And then and there, Hatter made up his mind. For Alice's birthday, he would go up there to surprise her. And he would bring her a hat.

To be continued.

Comments/criticisms/thoughts/feedback/etc will be muchly loved!