"author" note. This is my first piece of shared work as well as my first piece of fanfic. I love a damaged, tragic hero. I would also love some reviews. I am here to learn, so what can I do better? More importantly, what would you like to happen next? I'm not sure where to go, and I don't want to rush Emma or Jefferson/Hatter/Tarrant, and thanks for reading!

Emma tried the door. It was locked. The lock was an ornate collection of twining threads, with the key hole as the eye of a needle. Emma crept back up the stairs. The thought of looking into the little girls room was to much. Judging by the layer of dust in Jefferson's room, he had long since vacated it for his work room. She went there.

Jefferson was in the high backed chair. He was asleep, she could see his hands twitching. He was mumbling. She crept closer. His head jerked. He was still wearing the scarf from yesterday. Emma leaned closer, looking for a key. His eye lashes seemed impossibly long. His hair was mussed, presumably from his erratic sleep. Involuntarily she reached out a hand to fix it. Emma stopped. What the hell was she doing.

Logically, one keeps ones keys in a convenient pocket. Emma slid her hand across Jefferson thigh, feeling for a key. She could feel the impression of something small, possibly key sized. Emma ran her hand lightly up his leg, looking for the entrance to the cleverly crafted pocket.

As her fingers strayed closer to his hip, Emma realized the rather compromising position she would be in. Suddenly a hand grabbed hers. Jefferson was still asleep but his hand was fixed around hers.

"Alice, oh god Alice, I missed you"

Emma swallowed, uncomfortable. Its an unusual predicament, to find ones hand in the grip of a mad milliner, pressed alarmingly high on his thigh.

Her predicament worsened as he tugged her off balance. His other arm stealthily reached behind her, pulling her closer. To stop herself from toppling into his lap she placed her free hand on his shoulder.

"Alice" he moaned

Emma pause, was she actually felling pity for this mad man?

His arm, entrapping her, rested lightly on her waist. His thumb traced invisible circles, interrupting her though process. His free hand, surprisingly dexterous for someone who was asleep, caressed her cheek. She was straddling him now. He had released her trapped hand when he had stroked her cheek, but her still had an arm around her waist, keeping her there.

"your real?" he murmured, still half asleep.

"hush, hush hatter"

She gently brushed his cheek, pulling her feet off the floor and swinging her legs over the arm of the chair so she fit in his lap like a small child. The restraining arm feel back, she was glad. It was impossible to think with him holding her like that.

"are you back? "

Emma couldn't bring herself to lie, she had these dreams too. Graham would be in her room, laughing. She would stand and pull him, towards the bed, pushing him back. She could hear his chuckle as he rolled on top of her. Then, he would be gone, she would be alone, again.

"hush" Emma said again. This calmed the hatter. She began to stroke his hair, murmuring into his shoulder. An eternity later she extricated herself from the desperate tangle of arms and moved away. She curled on the plush window seat, waiting.

Maybe tonight it would be Henry's father. He was rare, but sometimes he would come. More offend than not, it was Graham. Sometimes he died, sometimes he vanished, but he was always gone in the morning, along with a little of her sanity.

Jefferson woke very slowly. This dream, tonight's dream had been different. Normally he saw Alice, she would be racing through a field, always a little ahead of him. He could see her hair, flowing behind her, hear her tinkling laugh, but never see her face. Last night, she had seemed so real, she had run her hand up his leg, sat on his lap, whispered to him. He blushed.

He looked around the room. Curled on a the window seat was Emma. Lying on the crushed green velvet, she looked almost exactly like Alice. It was all he could do not to rush over and gather her into his arms. Instead he turned and walked to grace's room. The bunny was sitting on the bed as always. He retrieved it and sat. Grace would not be awake yet, he absently stroked the rabbit, he would check on her later. Now it was time for a spot of tea.