Hatter

I was developing a serious case of the niggles. A very serious case, indeed. I couldn't even look at Alice now, without getting that bloody niggley feeling! It was enough to drive a bloke mad. Er, madder. After the incident with the Jabberwock, we ran into the "White Knight" (I doubted he was really the white knight, but I wasn't about to rain on his parade, as Alice put it). He took us to his "fortress" on horseback, which meant Alice and I would probably ride together.

Which meant she'd be touching me.

Which meant I'd be subjected to more Oyster emotions.

Her hands were merely resting on my hips (I confess, I wish that she'd really been holding on. But we weren't going that fast, so she really didn't need to. Not the point, though), but I still felt everything she was feeling. Confusion, worry, fear still (though that feeling seemed to be diminishing); she was tired, but then a new one entered the picture. She was calm. That was a wonderful feeling to feel on your own, but to have it double because you feel it through someone else… that was fantastic. I even got her to kind of laugh at one point, which seemed to ease her nerves even more. Even though she still didn't trust me, and probably wouldn't anytime soon (even though all I did was try to protect her – she was a rather infuriating Oyster), I was truly beginning to look forward to any excuse I had to touch her.

Yeah, Hatter, that'll gain her trust real quick. A bloke could dream.

Fly on the Wall

They were laying in bed, her head on his chest and a smile on her lips. This was typical for them, whether they made love or not, and more often than not, Hatter (or "David," in this world), was so happy he felt he could burst. He wasn't sure, yet, if Alice knew about just what her touch did to him (apart from the obvious reactions), and he was too lost in his thoughts and her feelings to actually realize that she was talking to him.

"Sorry, love, what were you saying?" He asked after zoning back in.

"Your real name isn't actually Hatter, is it?" She adjusted herself so that she was laying on her side, looking up at him, her face propped up on one hand while the other rested on his chest. He blushed slightly and looked away.

"Maybe… maybe it is." She giggled, and he felt a slightly mischievous spark in her emotions, which meant he was in trouble.

"Maybe?" She sat up and straddled him, a smirk on her face. He noticed her fingers twitching, and grimaced.

"No, it's not my real name," he said in a rush before they made contact; he loved touching her, but he hated being tickled.

"What is, then?" Curiosity took over, and she leaned forward, chin on her fists, elbows on his shoulder. He mumbled something, and she giggled, "Speak up, love, I can't hear you."

"My real name is Lindsey, alright?" He groaned, tugging his hat over his face. She laughed, which only made his blush deepen.

"I always thought that was a girl name."

"I was supposed to be a girl. Big shock for my parents."

She forced his hat off of his face and kissed him (his favorite way (ok, well, second favorite way) to experience her emotions), then met his eyes. "I'm glad you're not a girl."

He smirked, noticing a change in her breathing (and a new addition to her current emotions), "Yeah? Prove it."