Chapter 2

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I was bitten by the Wonderland bug again! I hope someone is still watching for this story to be updated, lol.

I realized a couple of things as I wrote this. Number One: I am terrible at writing out Scottish Accents. I worked hard, so hopefully it's acceptable. Number Two: I do NOT write in first person often enough! I was slipping back into third person every other sentence! LOL!

Rest assured, there will be a bit of plot coming up soon. This is EXTREMELY different from the plot I had thought up originally and shown to another author, just in case she sees this. ;) Apologies for the wait, and don't forget to leave a review!

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I came to wakefulness alone, cocooned inside worn sheets and tattered blankets in the Hatter's lumpy bed, which was the most wonderful place I could imagine being. The only thing that could make it more wonderful would be if he was cocooned with me.

There was a rather delicious smell in the air, like sugar and fruit. After a moment's groggy recollection of the previous day, I rolled out of the tempting warmth, wrapped a thin, worn sheet around my shoulders like a robe, and followed the scent to the bottom floor of the ruined windmill.

Tarrant was fiddling about with various things, wearing a frilled shirt and his usual trousers under an apron. "Ah, Alice!" he trilled excitedly, pausing in his work to turn to me and wringing his gloved, discolored hands. "I got up early, and you just seemed so tired, simply exhausted, and I felt terribly awful about waking you, you know, so I tucked you in tight and came in here to work!"

With a small smile, I watched him begin to fuss about the small space, one half a kitchen, the other half a work room. It seemed every bit of the counter and the small wood stove he was near was covered in a fine layer of flour, and in fact, now that I looked closer, so was the front of my Hatter himself. "Here, here, Alice, sit," he urged, pulling out a chair at a small table. Two cups and saucers clanked down in front of me, and a two streams of steaming tea filled them from a double-spouted teapot. "Here, have some tea. It's a zinger! And I've put lemon-rose tarts in the oven for breakfast."

"That's very kind of you, Tarrant dear," I began, smiling at the way he blushed happily. "But my clothes seem to have run off. Where could they have gotten to?"

"Your clothes..." he echoed, staring at where my hands were holding the sheet closed as though he'd only just noticed. "Oh, my..."

I could see his eyes darkening as he realized I wore nothing beneath it. As welcome as the thought of repeating the pleasures of the previous evening was, I really was quite hungry, and my mouth felt rather like cotton. "Hatter!"

"Ah, oh, yes," he stuttered. "Yes, your clothes, I washed them for you, hung them out to dry." Moving quickly to the opposite side of the room, he removed the be-floured apron. "I spent a bit of time making you new things while you were sleeping. Here." He brought me an armful of garments. "You do look so lovely in blue, so I've made you a cornflower and lace tunic with matching trousers, and a periwinkle frock here, and a few new sets of bloomers..."

He seemed even more pleased with the pieces than I, presenting each with a flourish and delighting in my exclamations. "There have to be a half-dozen outfits here," I laughed in amazement. "How long have you been up?"

"Mere hours, and the time was well spent indeed." He took her arm and urged her to stand. "Pick one and dress, quickly, and we can have breakfast outside. I'll lay out a picnic, with and blanket, a basket, and everything, just the two of us, what do you say?"

"I say it's a brilliant idea." I plucked out some underthings and the periwinkle dress, giving him a quick peck on the cheek.

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It was perfectly sunny out, the grounds having greened up quite nicely. When I asked Tarrant about it, he said the plants were happier since Mirana had been visiting regularly. "She always has a kind word to spare for the lawn," he said quietly, plating a tart and handing it to me. He had replaced his hat before leaving the house, but to my delight was still only wearing the billowing shirt "She certainly has improved it's disposition."

"Oh." A teensy bit of jealousy crept it's way back inside of my heart at the mention of the White Queen, but I quickly quashed it. "Hatter... Why was Mirana here so early for her fitting yesterday?" I asked curiously.

"Time rarely passes for her, he's not one for walks near Marmoreal, and he hasn't paid me any mind in who knows how long. I stopped looking long ago, and thought my watch is running again, I don't pay it much mind."

"Mightn't you offend Time again?"

He quirky one long eyebrow with a kind of careless expression, and we quietly sipped our tea and munched on our tarts. I felt the last of my doubt slipping away. I didn't want something as ugly as jealousy to live inside me when joy could replace it.

"Tell me, Alice, what is tall when it's young and short when it's old?"

"I've no idea," I admitted. I did wonder what as bothering my companion, though. "Tarrant," I began finally, "You only ask me riddles when something is bothering you. Is something the matter?"

"Oh, it's nothing. It's almost nothing." He looked down into his tea cup, swirling the dregs as he seemed to hunch a bit. His timid behavior and quite voice were clear signs of how he really felt. "I'm... unfamiliar with your world's customs, you know. I'm afraid I don't know how to ... court you properly. I was hoping this... is this sort of activity...?"

I knelt before him and took his cup out of his hand, meeting his surprised eyes, which had leached out to a pale yellow in his anxiety. "This is just perfect," I said slowly. "But there's no need for a Proper courtship. If you haven't noticed, I'm not a Proper sort of girl."

His eyes shifted quickly; dark gold, green, dark green. "Aye," he growled, his voice deepening. "Ye weren' very Proper las' night, lassie. Pefectly improper. "

With a little tea and tart in my stomach, and the time to brush my hair and teeth earlier, I felt quite a lot more receptive to this change in demeanor. "I could be even less Proper now," I whispered, gathering my muchness and settling myself astride his lap. I was always a lot muchier with Tarrant. His stained and bandaged hand rose to cup my cheek, the contact sending a spark of heat through my body. I looked into his jubilant eyes, intense but merry, and lowered my voice even more. "I'm still not wearing a corset."

He pulled my face down, letting out a low growl of satisfaction as our lips connected. It was easier this time to let myself go, to let my body melt easily into the hard planes of his chest. I felt his fingers slip into my hair, and then he fell backwards. A small squeak of surprise escaped me as a landed on him, then we both giggled. A golden curtain surrounded our faces as I let my eyes trace his forehead and cheekbones, landing on his ever-expressive eyes. I kissed him again, gentle and sweet, as his fingers easily found the pearl buttons he'd sewn on that morning and slid them out of their holes.

"See? I'm not really a decent sort at all." I whispered, watching his rapturous expression as the periwinkle silk and lace parted. A strange sense of power came over me as his arms slipped inside the fabric and pulled me tightly against him, burying his nose in my neck.

"I though' I migh'..." Despite the obvious hint of Outlandish in his voice that signaled his excitement, he still sounded bashful. "Might 'ave somethin' ta show ye. It'll cop guid, better than last nigh' even. "

My heart raced. "That sounds lovely, Hatter. What shall I do?"

In an unexpectedly swift movement, he had me on my back on the blanket, the teapot knocked to it's side and the leftover treats scattered from their tray. That sense of confidence I had had before waned slightly as his fingers trailed up the inside of my thigh pushing up the lace of my petticoat. My physical reaction was the same this time; I felt warm liquid already dripping from between my thighs. "Dear Hatter, is it... is it..." I began as he brushed the last thin layer of linen separating his hand from my womanhood. "I mean to say, when you do that... I feel myself grow wet, right there."

"An' glad I am ta hear it," he growled. Leaning back so he was kneeling between my legs, he hiked my skirt up around my hips before doing the most shockingly improper thing I had ever seen. He ducked his head and buried it right where his hand had just been.

"Oh!" The sight of his head disappearing under my skirts, which fell back down as he let go of them, sent a thrill through me. He was nuzzling me through the cloth with soft growls, and then - was that his tongue? And far from being embarrassed about the indecency of it, I found myself wishing that last little barrier was gone.

Feeling much muchier again, I pulled my dress up and pressed it as flat as it would go so I could watch him. His eyes, blazing a strange shade I couldn't put a name to, met mine as he licked up the center line where the wet fabric clung to me and dipped inside my most intimate place. "I should like your tongue on me properly, sir," I stated boldly, breathlessly.

"Aye, lassie, Ah shuid lik' it tae." His thickening accent made my heart race; the thought that he was enjoying this as well made me feel magnificently brazen. I lifted my hips to help him remove my bloomers, leaning up on my elbows as he dove back down. Oh, yes that was much more the thing, slippery and firm right where I needed it. "Tarrant, yes!" His frizzy orange curls tangled around my fingers as I cupped his head, my chest heaving.

These feelings were still unfamiliar, but I recognized the signs from last night. I was gasping for breath, something tightening inside me as he pressed against the little nub hidden in my folds. Self-conscious embarrassment could come later; I felt rapturously beautiful spread out like a wanton before my pale lover. He ran his tongue down, prodding at the opening there. The slight intrusion wasn't enough to hurt, and some instinct inside me was urging him on, but I was still relieved when he moved his attention back up again.

Strange, alien noises were escaping me as my body took over and did what it wanted. My hips were moving in time with the glorious things he was doing down there, and then suddenly my thighs were quaking as I moaned. "Tha's it, lassie," he urged in a low grumble before redoubling his efforts.

The voice must have been what did it. With a hoarse cry of surprise, pleasure overtook me. I pulled at the bright locks of hair I'd claimed, desperate for something to hold on to as his hands held my hips against the ground. He kept me tethered, gently bringing me down as I whimpered incoherent oaths.

Then all tension released from my body and I fell back, a rag doll against the blanket. Tarrant pulled my skirts back down and wiped his mouth on the corner of the blanket as he settled next to me, a look of extreme satisfaction in his eyes. "Ah cuid watch ye do tha' a' day, mah darling Alice."

The sound of his strong Outlandish inflection brought me partially out of my euphoria. As if by instinct, I rolled towards him, fingers pulling at the buttons on his trousers. "Can I make you feel this incredible?"

"Aye," he answered gruffly.

I almost had them open. "Show me."

Almost instantly, he'd pushed his trousers down and pulled out his shaft. It was bigger than I'd expected, not having much of a chance to see it last night, but then he took my hand and closed it over his arousal, his own larger hand showing me the proper grip and pressure. I watched our fingers moving over his hard, pale flesh, stared at the flushed head with a drop of shining moisture dripping down.

Then I shifted my gaze from this unfamiliar sight to his face. His eyes were closed, soft lashes brushing his painted cheeks, lipstick smeared. My core pulsed as I thought of the matching residue that must be between my legs right now. "Look at me, Tarrant," I said. I felt reverent; I was participating in something sacred. "I want to see you."

Then I was looking into his eyes, a deep emerald shade flecked with gold. He shuddered, and I looked down briefly to see his manhood twitch and give me it's offering, pearly essence oozing over our fists and down between us. My gaze went back to his face, much more flushed than normal with a kind of grimace, listening to his excited huffs. Before his breath had even slowed, his eyes lightened again. "Oh, Alice," he whispered, his voice back to lilting, "I am sorry, I should never have -"

"Don't apologize for any part of that," I assured him, touching his cheek. "It was just the right sort of indecency for me."

Instantly, his eyes were glowing green again, an expression of pure joy on his features. "Oh, you are a blessing, Alice. What could I have possibly done to deserve you, the most rapturous, wondrous marvelous, extraordinary, amaz-"

This time, I stopped him with a kiss, and he didn't argue. Then, a sudden thought entered my head, and I pulled back with a gasp. "Oh! What about Thackery? Doesn't he come by for tea usually?" After an unusual length of silence, I saw that Tarrant was blushing. "What is it?"

"Well, he stopped in while you were in bed this morning, and I was just so excited to have you all to myself today, you see, with no competition, that I asked him to give us the Day."

He looked so timid, it melted my heart. I leaned my forehead against his and smiled brightly. "How thoughtful of you," I said quietly. "And what else shall we do with our Day?"

"I've some more riddles to ponder, several teas to try." He was suddenly distracted. "My dearest Alice, does that cloud look like a parsnip?"

"Why, yes, I believe it does," I said, turning to look.

The clouds were indeed very interesting for the rest of the morning.

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To Be Continued...