Couldn't remember if I ever did a disclaimer for the other chapters, so...here it is. I don't own this. Well, I do own this, as in this chapter, which I wrote, and all that stuff, but I don't own, you know, like the whole "Alice in Wonderland" concept and stuff. And I really shouldn't have to say that. I mean, this is a fanfiction site, right? It should go without saying that, since we are writing fan fiction, which is by definition derived from a concept that was originally not ours, that any stories found herein would be intellectually not ours except in the writing thereof. Ah, I feel so much better now :) If you're still reading this, I commend you. Enjoy the chapter ^_^


"Oh, mercy." Helen Kingsleigh, clutching her hand to her bossom and clipping her mouth shut lest she gape at the man before her, could utter no other superlative to describe her first impression of Tarrant Hightopp, Miliner of the High Court of...well, of some country or another (just because she'd never heard of it meant little, as she was a woman, and women normally didn't know such things, anyway. His title sounded important, anyhow, who was she to question it?).

Beside her, Margaret seemed to be having a similar reaction, stepping closer to her husband, who wrapped his arm around her shoulder defensively.

Lowell glanced to Hamish, his eyes narrowing in disapproval. Feeling unjustly reprimanded by said look, Hamish puffed himself up a bit and stepped up beside the hatter (despite his own misgivings, but a wounded pride often trumped such petty things as personal safety in courageous men, didn't it? And while Hamish had never considered himself to be categorized within that particular group of men, as he was a noble and of some worth and tended to protect that worth even under threat of insult and/or shame, at this point he was beginning to think he had done many courageous things that morning concerning this rather frightening house guest, and was not going to let Lowell Manchester look down on him (the cad)! ...besides, the hatter had yet to actually hurt anyone, and so long as no one set off another of his fits, Hamish was certain he was not in any danger just standing beside the man, which brings us back to the point). "Mr. Hightopp and I have just been enjoying tea together and discussing Alice, and I was hoping you'd join us."

Hamish was smiling his best host smile, and it seemed to be having absolutely no effect on his company, much to his dismay.

Helen gathered herself first. "...Hamish, where is your mother?"

Hamish's smile slipped slightly before hitching itself back up. "Well, the events of this morning seemed to have tuckered her out, I'm afraid, and she's taking a rest at the moment and won't be able to sit with us."

All three sets of wary eyes narrowed at him in manner that said "Is that so?" as sarcastically as any derogatory tone could have conveyed. Hamish sniffed in annoyance. This was not at all going the way he wished.

Beside him, the Hatter was starting to bounce on his heels, apparently missing the entire atmosphere of the conversation and shaking with excitement. His large eyes darted back and forth between the three guests, all who flinched back under his gaze, but he gave their reactions no notice and continued to joyfully jerk his head around as if trying to look at all three individually at once. Really, the endeavor looked painful.

Deciding that trying to convince his guests was not going well and maybe trying a different track would be more fruitful, Hamish addressed the hatter this time. "Mr. Hightopp, I believe you said you'd met Alice as a child, but this is your first time meeting her family, correct?"

Not seeming to hear, the hatter continued his odd jerking head-bouncing heels motions to such an extent that they were starting to appear rather frightening.

"Mr. Hightopp?" Hamish repeated, not really expecting the odd guest to reply and just going on formality. "I asked a question, sir, if you would care to-"

"You're rather old, don't you think?" Mr. Hightopp interrupted suddenly, his head stopping abruptly to stare, rudely and with a rather cross face, at Mrs. Kingsleigh.

Everyone's eyes widened considerably, and this time Helen Kingsleigh's mouth did gape. "I...I beg your pardon?"

Smile brightening, the hatter continued as though he hadn't heard. "But you do look like her, oh yes, right spitting image if not for all the wrinkles." While Mrs. Kinglseigh sputtered unintelligably for a moment, Mr. Hightopp turned his gaze to Margaret, who flinched back instantly. "You're much better, lot less wrinkly." The hatter nodded in approval, and then his smile suddenly dropped right off his face. "But you don't look as much like her. Just enough to be annoying."

Margaret was looking rather hurt by his comment, and Lowell bristled. "Now, see here-"

Oh no, Hamish moaned to himself, not at all willing to put himself between the crazy hatter and a defensive Lowell (which was something he was still getting used to, it being a rather recent development. He was almost certain Lowell had taken this strange turn in personality around the time of Alice's last visit, which didn't surpirse him at all, seeing as Alice had been rather terse to him for quite some time – since his blundered proposal, actually, now that he thought about it, though it wasn't as if Alice had ever cared for the man before then. Ah, Lowell was getting louder, he should probably be paying attention) and thus rather worried as to how this was going to develop. He really hoped they wouldn't destroy the entry hall. The living room was in bad enough shape without having yet another room to fix.

The hatter was still frowning, not seeming to mind in the slightest that Lowell was giving him a piece of his mind. "I don't know you." Turning to Hamish, Mr. Hightopp nodded towards a still speaking Lowell with a confused frown. "I don't know him."

"Ah, that would be Alice's brother-in-law, Lowell Manchester. Remember? I told you he was coming with his wife, Margaret." Hamish explained, once again forcing a smile and praying this meeting would somehow morph itself into something vaguely resembling proper, as he'd meant it to be.

Lowell had finally pulled his mouth shut, but he was glowering at the hatter, as though waiting for him to say something else to offend his wife. But Mr. Hightopp simply bounced on his heels, looking happy once again. "Oh," he said simply, "lucky man, then, marrying into Alice's family. Good genes, much muchness."

Despite the fact that what he'd just uttered made little sense to Hamish, he was instantly aware that Mrs. Kingsleigh was no longer looking at the hatter with indignation. In fact, Hamish thought that maybe she had taken what the hatter had just said as a compliment (he supposed the good genes part and Lowell being lucky to marry into Alice's family were both technically compliments, despite Mr. Hightopp's odd manners, and Mrs. Kingsleigh was very proud and very, very defensive of her late husband's family name. Then this is much better, Hamish thought smugly, seeing this as – finally - a turn in the right direction).

"'Much muchness?'" Lowell repeated, looking confused and, as such, angry again. Lowell didn't like being anything but in control, no matter how much he'd changed in the last few months, and being confused about something was definitely not being in control of it. Of course, Hamish was getting the feeling that the hatter wasn't someone that anyone could control, ever. ...except, maybe, Alice.

"Of course!" The hatter replied jovially, grinning his gap-toothed smile at Lowell for the first time. "So much wonderful muchness must run in the family. Alice can't be the only one with it all, though she tends to misplace it sometimes, but she's always wonderful at finding it again at just the right moment, the rascal. Hamish here was just telling me earlier that Alice's father was just as muchy as she was, rest his soul, and I am very sorry I hadn't come earlier to meet him, such a shame. From the sound of it he would have loved Underland, but since he isn't around to visit it I suppose I'll make do with visiting his world instead, as it is also Alice's world, that much is obvious seeing as she left us to come back here. She loves you all very much, you know."

Pausing in his speech (which had very much resembled a normal speech, almost part of a conversation, which none of the usual signs of Mr. Hightopp's deranged fits despite Hamish prickling at his mention of Charles Kingsleigh. And Hamish was almost certain it had been a good, polite speech, with many compliments and brimming with sincerity, and once again Hamish felt that small twinge inside himself that not only his feelings for Alice, but any feeling he had at all, paled in comparison to a feeling felt by this supposed madman. That's it then, Hamish realized, it's not that this man is off his rocker, it's just that any emotion he feels is more intense than what normal people feel, and thus his reactions more exaggerated. His pain greater, his anguish causing more suffering, his loneliness harder to endure, and his love...

His love for Alice...

but Hamish was getting ahead of himself again, thinking this man loved Alice) the hatter turned to Helen and smiled what was almost a gentleman's smile, and if it wasn't for his pale complexion and wild hair and eyes, Hamish would have thought Mr. Hightopp a real Englishman.

It seemed Helen felt the same.

"Thank you, Mr. Hightopp." She replied warmly, smiling a soft smile that Hamish hadn't ever seen Mrs. Kingsleigh use with anyone other than those she considered family (he'd seen her smile at his father like that, on occasion, and even he'd received that smile a few times, much more recently, but it was still a fleeting and rare thing) and he felt a bit of jealousy towards his mad guest for winning over Alice's mother so quickly. And, glancing sideways for confirmation (which he got), for apparently winning over Margaret, too. But Mrs. Kingsleigh was speaking again. "I'm sure my husband would have just loved to make your aquaintance. You seem like the two of you would have gotten on well. I appreciate your kind words, Mr. Hightopp."

"Hatta, please." He replied, sweeping off his hat and giving it a spin before popping it back on. "Everyone calls me Hatta, I'd be delighted if you would, too."

"'Hatta?'" Margaret repeated, drawing everyone's eyes. "That name sounds familiar."

Tarrant Hightopp's eyes twinkled. "The Mad Hatter, in full."

Lowell and Hamish exchanged glances at the odd nickname, but no one else seemed to notice, as Helen was staring at her daughter with interest, and Margaret looked like she was thinking hard about something. Then she suddenly jumped. "Oh! That's right, the Mad Hatter! Alice talked about you as a child, I remember her mentioning you! From her dreams abut Wonderland!"

"Underland, actually." The hatter replied, looking absolutely thrilled that Margaret knew who he was, that Alice had talked about him to someone. "Always did get the name wrong, the silly boy."

"But I thought those were just Alice's fanciful dreams. They were so farfetched." Margaret continued, so shocked to be seeing one of Alice's imaginary companions in the reality of daylight that she completely overlooked Alice being referred to as male. Hamish was beginning to think that all children, in the hatter's eyes, were lads or boys and that he didn't really understand gender differences until they were adults. The illogic of it wouldn't surprise Hamish, not from the hatter.

"Children are prone to exaggerate," Helen commented easily, still gazing at the hatter with her own kind of wonder. "How did you meet Alice, Mr. High- ah, Hatta?"

Grinning ear to ear and with his face shining brightly, the hatter looked ready to explode with joy. But before he could speak, Hamish decided it was finally time to insert some proper manners into this odd meeting. "How don't we all go have a seat in father's study, and then Mr. Hightopp can tell us all about it, hm?"

"That sounds lovely." Helen replied, nodding.

"Why can't we use the living room?" Lowell interjected, looking rather annoyed at the turn of events. He obviously was not liking the hatter, and he was stubbornly going to cling to that feeling no matter what the man's story was or how much his wife was warming up to him.

Hamish felt his gentleman's smile twitch. "The living room is, ah, currently undergoing some slight remodeling. I'm afraid it can't be used right now. But father's study-"

Leading the way quickly up the stairs, Hamish ushered everyone past the living room as quickly as possible. Thankfully, no one tried to take a peek and he didn't have to explain that the odd man from Alice's past had potentially dangerous anger issues, and they were going to be spending some time alone with him in the study. When Lowell finds out (and he will, Hamish reflected somberly) he's going to have my head.