Here's another installment… thanks to the Mad Emperor, Harley-Cat, fantasyluver123, and Jen Rock for their reviews, it really kept me going!
Disclaimer: Fang(from Maximum Ride) …
Me: …
Fang: …
Me: Oh, just shut up!
Fang: Huh?
Me: (Makes Fang vanish) Why do I always end up doing my own disclaimer… fate, probably. I don't own DC, or Warner Brothers, or jellybeans… yet… so, enjoy!
P.S: Anything you don't like, DON'T READ! I don't want people forcing themselves to read my fic, but I do want to do my own thing with it.
P. P. S: I couldn't resist putting another pairing in, Jonathan C./ Jeanette Cameron, an OC.
P. P. P. S: I'm sorry I took a while to update, but this chapter is extra long to make up for it!
JUNE
7
"Psst! Jervis! If I stole one of the guards' walkie-talkie things, would you be able to make it into a control chip?" If Cheshire had had a tail, it would have been swishing in the delightful contemplation of her plot.
Jervis began to answer, then quieted as a guard walked down the row of cells. "Possibly, but I might need more than that," he answered after the guard was gone. "It's a pity that the orderlies found my stash of microchips in the library."
There was a snort from the Scarecrow's cell. "If you'd put it somewhere other than Alice in Wonderland, Tetch, they might've not."
"Don't be mean, Professor Crane. Where else was he s'posed to put them?"
There was a minute of quiet, then the Riddler said almost reverently, "Did you hear that?"
"What?" asked Ivy shortly. She didn't sound in the mood for a guessing game.
"That's just it. An actual pause in the conversation."
"Well, yes, having the Joker in a separate wing is a nice change."
"That reminds me." Jervis leant against the glass. "Why was he moved? I haven't heard yet."
"Because of you and Ches, obviously."
Jervis raised an eyebrow at the orange-haired professor. "Obviously? Why?"
"My dear Tetch, Harleen dumped the Joker for you -"
"She just happened to be at my place when she decided to leave him, and she needed a place to stay!"
"I'm telling it as it looks. Dumped the Joker for you. Refused to return to him. Hinted that you had convinced her to leave him. Gallivants about with you in much the same manner as she did with the Joker, except that you never have fallings-out -"
"We've only been working together for about two months," said Jervis, putting emphasis on 'working.'
"When she was Harley Quinn, she and the Joker couldn't go two days without him abusing her unless they were in Arkham."
"Don't talk about me like I'm not here!"
The door at the end of the cell block opened and a guard shouted "Quiet in there!" There was silence until the door closed, then everybody spoke at once.
"Cheshire and I are not-"
"Jervis didn't intentionally-"
"As I was saying, even though-"
"My advice to you, Harley-"
"Now one thing that puzzles even me-"
There was a pause, then everybody finished at once.
"-romantically affiliated in the slightest."
"-like, woo me away from the Joker."
"-the Joker kicked Harley out, he wants her back."
"-dump them both and come live with me."
"-is why you decided to throw your lot in with the Hatter and not with me."
"Hoooold it!" Harley held up a hand before anyone could start again. "Let me get this straight. You are defending the point that we aren't dating…" Jervis nodded. "You're saying that the Joker's gonna give us trouble…" She pointed to the Scarecrow "and you two want me to come live with either of you?"
"Yes," said the Riddler and Poison Ivy in unison.
"Okie-dookie. Yes, we are not going out, thanks for the heads-up Professor, no thanks Red, and I don't fancy being the newest Query or Quiz or Question or Quandary or Quip or whatsit."
The door opened again and everybody shut up as a depressed Firefly was prodded in by a couple of orderlies, Dr. Bartholomew fluttering about like a distracted moth in their wake.
"Tut tut - and I thought you had been making progress on your pyromania. Oh well. Ah, Mr. Tetch!" he exclaimed, hurrying over to the Hatter's cell window as the orderlies pushed Firefly into his cell. "We've been hearing of some trouble between you and Mr. Napier -" he said it as if they were two five-year-old boys having an argument "-so we're having a special session of group therapy for you to work it out."
"Are you going to let them fight each other?"
"It's really the only way they're going to 'work it out."
"Well, no, I-" started Dr. Bartholomew, looking flustered, but he was interrupted again.
"Maybe a boxing match!"
"Yeah! Jervis, you know how to box, don't you?"
"Well, yes…"
"I thought so. The gentleman's way of fighting."
"Better Tetch than the clown, I guess."
"No, no, no!" Dr. Bartholomew sensed that he was losing control of the situation. "Fighting isn't the right way to resolve differences! You have to talk about it, and try to understand each other…"
There was a moment of stillness as every inmate turned towards him, their mouths twitching, then the gallery exploded in laughter. The doctor attempted to square his shoulders, failed miserably, and said. "Dr Leland will be in charge of the group session!" before hurrying out with the orderlies in tow.
His last words sank in.
"Aw, dang it."
"There goes the fight."
Two-Face flipped his coin and looked at it before speaking. "You're right. We don't want Joan to leave."
"She's the best of the bunch."
"An excellent woman."
"At least she listens." Cheshire yawned and padded over to her cot. "Feel free to use whatever language you need to tomorrow, Jervis."
8
"The reason I'm upset is because he stole my girlfriend! WHAT IS SO HARD ABOUT THIS?" yelled the Joker, banging a fist on the arm of his chair. The chains that attached him to it clinked merrily and the other inmates repressed smiles (sans Jervis, who had a hard time seeing the humor in most situations.)
Dr. Leland rubbed her forehead. She had made some progress with most of the inmates, and many of them seemed to like and trust her more than the other doctors, but the Joker treated her with the same contempt as he did everybody else.
"Maybe if Harleen explained it to you you would understand?" she asked quietly. The Joker curled his lip and sat back, crossing his arms, but didn't dissent. Cheshire sighed and began explaining. It had used to give her a strange pang to talk to the man she was once infatuated with, but now she felt little about him.
"I. Am. Not. In. Love. With. You. Any. More." She paused, then added "Come to think of it, I wasn't ever. I convinced myself I was…"
"And now you're chasing after the Wonderland geek." The Joker snorted. "Really, Harley, I would have expected you to aim a little higher… at least the Ragbag or question man… I don't know why you thought you would be better off playing Alice for-"
Jervis surged to his feet, knocking over his chair. His hands were twitching as if he wanted to fasten them around the Joker's neck, and the smile dropped off the clown's face.
"Jervis- please-" Cheshire and Dr Leland spoke almost instantaneously, but it was Cheshire Jervis looked at, his face pale with rage, before his stance relaxed slightly. The next moment, the Joker was hit in the face with something soft. Puzzled, he picked up Jervis' white glove from his lap. "What's this?"
Jervis had a strange look, almost of satisfaction, on his face, and he spoke very clearly and precisely. "I challenge you-"
"Whoa, whoa." The Joker held up his hands. "I knew you were crazy, but I didn't know you were that crazy. I don't do duels."
"I do," said Jervis with cool simplicity before continuing in the same precise tone. "I challenge you, Joker, to a duel - my choice of weapons - to avenge the honor of Harleen Quinzel. If you refuse to fight, then you deserve no more consideration than an cur to be whipped-"
"I'll help," offered Poison Ivy cheerfully.
"Now, Jervis," said Dr Leland. She knew better than to just say straight out that they couldn't fight. "You can't fight here, it's not allowed. In fact, dueling is illegal everywhere in the country."
"One of the perks of being criminally insane is that what's legal or not matters very little to us." The Riddler grinned broadly, tipping his head to the side. "Is there an opening for second?"
"I should be glad to accept your assistance. And yes, I do know it will not be permitted here," he added, turning to Dr Leland "but this man has constantly and infallibly mocked all that I hold sacred, sneered at what I worship, attacked what I strive to protect. This can no longer continue. The next moment I can, where ever it may be, whatever circumstances, I shall fight him."
"Ohhh." Cheshire breathed. She was staring at him with starry eyes. "That was beautiful."
Crane muttered something under his breath about Catholics and G.K Chesterton that nobody really caught, as the time for the session had run out.
"Well, did things get any better?" Dr Bartholomew asked with great optimism as Dr Leland came wearily to his office to give her report.
She resisted the urge to burst out laughing derisively and spoke quietly. "The upshot of putting them in the same room together was the Hatter challenging the Joker to a duel."
"A what?"
"A duel. With all the trimmings. Glove thrown in face, reasons given, "to avenge the honor of…" I don't think this one is going to blow over."
"Oh dear." Dr Bartholomew scratched his head with his pen. "How will this work out?"
12
"They've escaped." Dr Ashton's secretary kept pace with him through the hallways as she rattled off her report. "The Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, the Scarecrow, the Riddler, Poison Ivy-"
"Yes, I get the idea!"
"Two-Face, the Penguin, Killer Croc, the Penny Plunderer-"
"All right."
"Ventriloquist, Baby-Doll, the Mad Bomber, the Cheshire Cat-"
"You already said her. Wait, the Joker didn't escape?"
"Well, he didn't escape per se. But he's not here anymore."
"What do you mean?"
"Well, we have it on surveillance tapes, if you come this way…" She dragged him off to the side into the projector room and switched on the projector.
With open-mouthed, silent amazement, Dr Ashton watched the muted tape; the door to the Joker's cell sprang open and the Mad Hatter beckoned him to come out. The Joker's lips moved, forming something very rude. The Mad Hatter's mouth tightened and his wrist flicked; the Joker's face went slack as a 10/6 card appeared behind his ear.
"This cannot be good."
Thirty miles away, the Joker was thinking the same thing as the microchip was removed and he found himself confronted by the grinning faces of his former fellows.
14
"Ah." The Joker, still in a straightjacket and handcuffs, looked around the small plateau. "High ground… fresh air… nice view of the sea… can't think of a better place for hand-to-hand combat."
There was a businesslike sshhhkkkt, sshhhkkkt, sound coming from the other side of the plateau, where Jervis was sharpening one of the seventeenth-century swords that Two-Face had found at a pawnbroker's (He could be trusted to find two of exactly equal length.) The Riddler was standing behind him admiring the view and covertly shooting glances at the other second (Killer Croc) who was throwing rocks over the edge with an expression of deep fulfillment. All the other rogues had found places to sit that were hopefully out of the range of sword-thrusts, except for Cheshire.
"Jervis?" The Hatter looked up from examining the blade, brushing his blonde bangs out of his eyes. Cheshire stood a few feet away, looking, for once in her life, a bit shy. "I-I wanted to say thank you." Her blue eyes were bent downwards, and her voice was soft. "I've never had anyone - protect me like that… rush to my rescue… it's… nice. So, well, um, thank you."
He found himself flushing a deep red as he pushed the sword into the rocky soil to stand it upright. "Pish tosh my dear, it's nothing."
She put a slim hand on his shoulder and turned him towards her. "No, it isn't nothing. It's…" why was she having a hard time connecting her thoughts…? "A lot. It means a lot."
Why is it so hard to breathe…? "Well then… you're welcome." They remained in tableau for a minute, her hand on his chest, their eyes on each other, before she lifted onto tiptoe and kissed him. The light contact of her lips sent quaking shivers through his body, of shock or pleasure he could not tell. In a moment it was over, Cheshire dropping her eyes and turning back to where the Scarecrow was taking bets for the fight. Almost unconsciously, he raised a hand to his lips where hers had been as he watched her go, then shook his head to clear it and looked to where Two-Face and Killer Croc were explaining things to the Joker.
"So we basically try to hit each other with the swords until one of us falls down either dead or beaten up and the other person wins?"
"Basically."
"You're sure Tetch wouldn't rather play Monopoly?" The Joker had the sword shoved into his hand for an answer. "Guess not. This ain't fair, I don't know how to swordfight!"
"Neither does Tetch. You'll both be winging it, it just depends which of you wings it better."
"Ho boy." The clown's white face turned slightly green as he looked to where Jervis was moving his sword around experimentally. "This is not gonna be pretty."
"Its balance is very different from an axe." Jervis commented to the Riddler, holding the blade out at arm's length.
"For heaven's sake, don't try to handle it like one," the Penguin begged from the sidelines. "It would be just too painful to watch."
Two-Face walked out in the middle of the natural platform and held up his hands for silence.
"We're here because the Mad Hatter challenged the Joker on the behalf of the Cheshire Cat, who is with us today. Everybody give Cheshire a hand!"
"He sounds like a game show host," the Riddler muttered, clapping along nonetheless.
"Now, on my count of ten by twos, I want you to start fighting. There will be no intermission. Thank you all for coming. Now…" He stepped out of the middle and checked his watch. "Two! Four! Six!"
Jervis had already entrusted his hat, coat and waistcoat to Cheshire; he blew the dust off his sword and figured out a way to hold it so the point was towards the Joker and not wavering off to the side or up. The Joker picked up his sword gingerly, eyed it doubtfully, and tried to walk off the field; Killer Croc blocked his way.
"Eight! And ten!"
Neither one of them moved for a minute, then Jervis took a tentative step forward and the Joker jumped backward. Killer Croc shoved him back into the middle and he held up his sword with a fatalistic expression.
The swords tapped with a clear, ringing sound like a bell, then withdrew; neither of the two men seemed ready to commit to the fight yet. They were moving around each other rather like two wolves sizing each other up, Jervis holding his weapon loosely in one hand and the Joker clutching his in both. His customary grin had begun to return; he had decided on a surprise attack. A few hacking blows to get through the Hatter's defenses - how good could they be, he didn't know how to make them with a sword- then he decided he would kill him. The Victorian-mannered man was really starting to get on his nerves.
After a minute, he lunged, putting all his weight behind the blade. Jervis saw him coming just in time and threw himself to the side; Cheshire bit her lip in worry, but he leapt back to his feet swiftly and brought up his sword to fend off the Joker's double-handed blow. The other blade glanced off his and clipped his shoulder.
Cheshire put a hand over her mouth, leaning forward on her rock. The Joker began to laugh, then had his breath knocked out of him as Jervis slammed into him with his uninjured shoulder, sending him backwards and knocking the sword out of his hand.
* * * * *
Batman landed on a rock outcrop and lifted his binoculars to his eyes. The dark smudge on top of the plateau about a mile away was the rogues, but how had they gotten to France and what the heck were they doing?
* * * * *
The Joker wiped a trickle of blood from his mouth and laughed softly. "You can't do it."
The shining metal an inch away from his chest quivered, but Jervis did not make the move forward that would have ended the self-styled comedian's career in an eyeblink.
"You don't have the-"
"I'm not killing you," said Jervis quietly, his eyes fixed on something beyond the clown "because there's a batarang trained on me right now."
All heads whipped in the direction he was looking.
"Well, well. The Bat. Congratulations are in order, I suppose, for tracking us down overseas." The Penguin cocked his umbrella. "Now, if you don't mind, two of us are having a gentlemen's discussion."
The caped crusader remained perched on the overhang, staring at the group. "What in the name of heaven is going on?"
"The docs didn't tell you? They're having a duel 'cause of me," said Cheshire, cocking her head to the side. "Do you wanna bet? Jervis is kinda favored, but feel free to put your money either way."
"Stop this ridiculous fight now." The Dark Knight's eyes flashed, but the rogues were mostly unimpressed.
"Oh, I'm so scared," chirped Baby-Doll. "Face it Batsy, there's one of you and… thirteen of us, so why don't you 'give it up' for once?"
The Joker had begun to try and sidle out from under the point of the Hatter's sword, but found it pricking his neck. He resisted the urge to swallow and stayed put. Batman smiled oddly. "I believe you slightly miscounted, Miss Dahl."
Several of the supervillains swung around, but they were a little too late to stop the net that dropped over half of them, including the two combatants.
"Three of us." Robin thudded down, pushing a spike into the edge of the net and into the ground to hold it down. Batgirl followed a second after, holding something that resembled a bazooka. "I hope we're not too much of a crowd?"
"What is that?" asked the Mad Bomber nervously, pointing at the bazooka-thing.
"This? Oh, this is just in case any of you were feeling like not coming quietly." Batgirl pulled down a small lever in the side and the gun cocked ominously. "Are you indisposed?"
The supervillains spent a second weighing the odds in a battle between the Mad Bomber, Baby-Doll, Two-Face, Scarface, the Scarecrow and the Penny Plunderer on one side and Batman, Robin and Batgirl with a bazooka-thing on the other, then surrendered.
"Now that you're handcuffed, I can let you in on a very big secret," said Batgirl cheerfully to a sulky Cheshire a minute later. "It wasn't even loaded!"
Cheshire snarled at her. Robin was eyeing the Mad Hatter, who still had his sword, rather warily.
"Now, you don't want to do anything rash-" he began nervously, putting his hand to a batarang. The Hatter had an odd glint in his eye.
"Oh, no, I've thought it out rather carefully," the hatted man answered coolly. Robin hadn't released him from the net, but he had cut through (the Joker had dropped his sword and had almost seemed glad to be captured) and was holding his sword at the ready.
Robin swallowed. "Er, Batman? Bit of trouble over here."
Batman looked up impatiently from where he was tying up Baby-Doll (who was shrieking "No fairs! No fairs!" and trying to bite him). "Just keep him busy for a minute, Robin, I'll be there in no time."
"'Keep him busy'… easy for you to say," muttered Robin, pulling out the batarang. "Er, do you know how to use that thing?"
"No," answered the Hatter cheerfully. "Let's call this a crash course, shall we?"
Robin threw himself to the side to avoid the blade, loosing the batarang at the same time. Rolling and coming up in a crouch, he saw that his opponent had dodged with remarkable speed and was gone.
Robin blinked. Huh? I wouldn't say he was the type to cut and run…
Batgirl yelped to his right and there was the bong of something slim, sharp and metal rebounding off something large, hollow and metal.
Guess I was right. Apparently the Hatter would not run a lady through from behind, but he had no compunctions about trying to knock her out with the hilt of his sword. Batgirl had heard him just in time to spin around and block the strike with the bazooka. Batman was distracted with hanging onto Cheshire, who had picked the locks of her first set of handcuffs with a hairpin and had produced a couple of control cards from a hidden pocket; he was making feinting motions with another pair of batcuffs and she was holding him off while the restrained supervillains watched with interest. Batman was not encouraged by the whispers of "Ten to one on Cheshire" and "I'm putting my money on five minutes, maximum."
Ten minutes later…
"You lose, they've just gotten the upper hand now," the Penny Plunderer told the Penguin, who had made a seven-minute bet and couldn't see the combatants.
The Mad Hatter and the Cheshire Cat stood at the edge of the path leading down from the plateau, the Mad Hatter pressing a handkerchief over the deep cut in his shoulder with one hand but his sword steady in the other, and Cheshire leaning casually on the shoulder of a mind-controlled Robin. Batman and Batgirl stood a few yards away, conferring.
"When you're ready, just agree to give us a four-hour start and we'll release the boy," called the Mad Hatter. Batman shot him a murderous glance and returned to arguing with Batgirl under his breath.
Cheshire wiped her brow and blew out a satisfied breath. "Not even Batsy can stand in our way when we work together," she said quietly. She didn't look away from their opponents, but she knew Jervis was turning his head slightly towards her.
"We are a formidable team," he replied. "It was good thinking to go for the boy, Cheshire."
A light blush spread across the girl's cheeks. "You're such a charmer, Jervis."
"If you're done patting each other on the back we're willing to give you a three-hour head start," called Batman sharply. "Now release the boy!"
"Ooh, somebody's crabby about losing," cooed Cheshire. "Do you give your word that you won't slap a tracker on one of us or follow us in any way during the three hours?"
"You. Have. My. Word." Batman gritted out through clenched teeth.
"Hey, what about us?" called the Penny Plunderer.
"Terribly sorry to leave you in the lurch, but it can't be helped," said Jervis as Cheshire removed the card from behind Robin's ear with a theatrical flourish and pushed him towards the two other crimefighters. "We'll send postcards."
They were gone in a minute, and Batman set his watch. "In exactly three hours, we're after them," he told Batgirl and Robin. "That'll give us time to ferry all the other criminals back to Arkham."
"Where do you think they're going?" Robin asked as Batman dialed on his belt to bring the batplane.
"Some other foreign country, but not England," Batman responded. "The Hatter said that they'd 'send postcards' and I don't think that he would go somewhere as obvious as England."
There was a minute of silence, then Batgirl spoke up. "Um, Batman?"
"Hmm?"
"Shouldn't the plane be here by now, unless… unless somebody shut off the receiving device at the other… end…" Her eyes popped open wider as they saw the batplane rise up over the mountains and fly unsteadily in the opposite direction. "Oh no."
* * * * *
"WE ARE THE JABBERWOCKS FROM HECK!" yelled Cheshire at the top of her lungs, intoxicated from flooring the gas pedal. "THIS BABY CAN MOTOR!"
Jervis, in the seat next to her, checked the rearview mirror. "It appears Batman did not anticipate this." The vigilantes were staring after them open-mouthed.
"I should hope so!" chirped Cheshire. "It is so annoying when just as you've finished a beautiful plot Batsy shows up and ruins the whole thing and goes on and on about how he knew we were going to do it because of the way our twisted minds worked and so on ad nauseum. Where to, Jervis?"
"I think Batman might be confused a bit longer if we go to England," the Hatter answered, turning towards the smiling, windblown girl. "I would love to show you London. Did you know I grew up in England?"
"No, I thought you just did the accent to fit in with your costume. You have any folks left?"
"Not really, but perhaps Jeanette will still be in London. The orphanage where she was raised was only a little way away from our house, and she dropped by the numerous times she ran away. She's almost like a little sister; we'll have to look her up while we're in England."
"What's she like?"
"Last time I saw her she was fifteen. Dark hair, slender, reasonably tall, hazel eyes, sharp chin… it's been nine years, though. She'll be twenty-four now."
* * * * *
Jeanette Cameron brushed some dust off a bolt of dark blue cloth, humming 'The Lobster Quadrille' set to a rock tune, to herself.
"…so turn not pale, beloved snail, but come and join the dance!
Will you, won't you,
Will you won't you
Will you join the dance
Will you, won't you
Will you won't you
Won't you join the dance?"
A cat rubbed against her leg, and she looked down. "Aha! Dinah." She scooped up the purring tabby and rubbed her cheek against her. "By this train of portents, I hereby predict that a certain old Wonderland-obsessed acquaintance will be dropping by soon. Best close shop for the day."
OUT OF THIS WORLD! was a popular costume, clothing, and special-equipment shop in the front, a witch's house in the back where questions were asked and answered and stories were told. (Although it was known to few, OUT OF THIS WORLD! lived up to its name. More than half of the customers hailed from other dimensions, ranging from Marvel to Oz, and it was not unusual for the back-door customers looking for solutions to their problems to range from vampires to exiled princes. Jeanette had thoughtfully built near a 'door hub' where there were openings to a number of worlds, having been gifted with a smooth enough tongue and strong enough nerves to cope with more than one.)
She was flipping her sign from 'OPEN' to 'CLOSED' when a sharp rap came on the back door and she flew to answer it. Nobody with a non-important question could get past her signs.
* * * * *
The Scarecrow rapped again, then put his hands in his pockets. He had gotten away from the Batman with comparative ease, (coping with eleven of the Arkham escapees at once had been too much for the Dark Knight, even with Robin and Batgirl to lend a hand), tracked Tetch, found his dropped memorandum book with 'Look up Jeanette C.' in it, and located the only Jeanette C. in the whole of London. His blue eyes swept over the numerous signs stuck on, around and above the door as he waited for the door to be opened.
'NONE OF THIS NONSENSE, PLEASE.'
'THINK BEFORE YOU ASK.'
'WHY ARE YOU HERE, WHAT DO YOU WANT, AND WHY DO I CARE?'
'DO NOT MEDDLE IN THE AFFAIRS OF DRAGONS, FOR YOU ARE CRUNCHY AND GOOD WITH KETCHUP.'
There was also a double-sided one in the middle of the door. The side facing up read 'The Witch is in' but the reverse read 'I have gone looking for myself. If I return before I come back, keep me here!'
In short, she sounded like the kind of person Tetch would be friends with.
The door banged open and a young woman - who had apparently tripped over a cat - fell on him. He caught her reflexively, taking in her pale skin, sharp, determined chin, dark hair in a high ponytail and her slightly strange clothes; a tight top of delicate silver lace over an low-on-the-shoulder black blouse and black jeans. Her arms, hands and feet were bare except for a silver anklet, and a matching necklace- fine silver chain with tiny pearls - looped gracefully around her neck.
"Oops!" she said, laughing and untangling her arms from around his neck. "Sorry! Dinah tripped me." She tossed her head back, getting the hair out of her eyes, and he smelled her perfume - dark and sweet, like licorice and black roses. "What brings you here, tall, auburn and handsome?"
He was a bit caught off guard, but managed to answer. "I'm looking for Tetch. Jervis Tetch. Have you seen him lately?"
She leant against the doorframe. "The Hatter? Not for nine years, but he'll be here soon. Would you like to come in and wait?"
Jonathan eyed her. She was practically glowing with innocence and good intentions, and he didn't trust that in the slightest. "How do you know he'll be here?"
"Mars is bright tonight," she answered in a deep, echoing voice. "Unusually bright."
He raised an eyebrow and she gave a huff of frustration. "You should read more. Portents. I know he'll be here because a copy of Through the Looking-Glass fell off the bookcase this morning, a new bolt of cloth in the blue of his coat arrived, I've had the Lobster Quadrille as done by… the Four Postmen, I think, running through my head all day, and Dinah's been following me around. Now are you going to come in?"
The Scarecrow fingered the canister of fear gas in his pocket. Deciding that if she got any weirder he could gas her, he nodded and followed her into the long, narrow hallway. In a continuation of her preferences outside, signs dotted the walls.
'THE WICKED WITCH WAS FRAMED.'
'SOME DAYS IT JUST DOESN'T PAY TO GNAW THROUGH THE RESTRAINTS.'
"Do I know that feeling," muttered Jonathan, and continued reading as Jeanette reached the end of the hallway before him.
'DON'T BE AFRAID TO TRY NEW THINGS. AFTER ALL, AMATUERS BUILT THE ARK. PROFESSIONALS BUILT THE TITANIC.'
'I BARELY SURVIVED YESTERDAY AND ALREADY IT'S TODAY.'
"Hurry up!" called Jeanette, pattering past the end of the passage. "Tea, milk, cider, water, pumpkin juice or treacle?"
"Er… cider?"
"Good!" She shot past again, singing to herself. As he came from the tunnel into something that looked like a sitting room-cum-kitchen, his eyes settled on the welcome mat; it was dark blue, and there was a poem written on it in golden letters.
If you are a dreamer, come in.
If you are a dreamer, a wisher, a liar
A hoper, a prayer, a magic-bean buyer
If you're a pretender, come sit by my fire
For we have some golden-flax tales to spin
Come in! Come in!
"Princess, princess, why do you cry…?" Jeanette sang softly, pouring cider from a large earthenware jug into a black mug with My other car is a broom written on it. "In a forest painted by the setting sun… I made a promise to a demon boy…"
Jonathan began to relax in spite of himself; the warm golden lighting, bright but not glaring colors, and the general welcoming atmosphere of the room were all very soothing, as was the girl's voice, even though her tone was sad and the lyrics of the song strange.
"Princess, Princess, why are you scared…?" Jeanette indicated a polished, richly carved hardwood chair for him to sit in at a small yellow table, then set the mug in front of him as he complied. "In the mountains far away I hear the demon boy cry…"If women truly are as fickle as the phases of the moon…"
"How soon do you think Tetch will be here?" Jonathan inquired, sniffing the cider cautiously. It didn't smell bad. In fact, it smelled good. Better than good. It had a rich, warm apple scent with traces of nutmeg, orange and cinnamon. His mouth betrayed him completely and began to water.
"A few hours, perhaps. No more than a day. You know, that cider was meant for sustenance, not decoration. Now excuse me, I want to get something for lunch."
She opened a door and vanished down some steps; probably leading to a cellar, Jonathan decided. He stared at the cider for another minute, then gave up the battle; deciding that if it was going to kill him it was a good way to go, he took a sip.
When Jeanette came back up, he had finished the mug and was pouring himself another. "Do you mind?" he asked rather belatedly.
"Better to beg forgiveness than to ask permission," said Jeanette, indicating a sign that was inscribed with the exact words as she set a shallow, covered glass dish on the tile counter in the kitchen half of the room. "Do you like polenta?"
"Never heard of it."
"I shouldn't be surprised." Jeanette eyed his thin frame with a kind of pitying horror. "You don't look like you've had a bite of decent food in your whole life. Can you stay for lunch?"
There was something oddly peaceful about the atmosphere, warm and comforting like he'd never felt before. Much of it seemed to radiate from the barefoot young woman with her dark hair glowing in the soft light from the shaded lamps, and even though a persistent, nagging voice in the back of his head reminded him of what happened every time he put trust in someone and stayed in one place for more than a little while, he slowly nodded. "I'll stay."
* * * * *
Cheshire leant with her ear against the 'I have gone looking for myself' sign. "She's in. I can hear her talking to somebody, and they're both laughing. The guy's laugh sounds a bit odd, like he's forgotten how to laugh."
"You have sharp ears, my dear." Jervis placed a gloved hand on her shoulder, leaning forward to listen as well. "I can scarcely make them out, but the other voice seems familiar… almost like…"
They looked at each other.
"No, it can't be Jonathan."
"Professor Crane doesn't laugh! Maybe a dark chuckle now and then, but not…"
"Well, let's find out." Jervis rapped on the door.
* * * * *
Two hours after Jonathan had decided to stay both he and Jeanette were sitting at the kitchen table, talking over near-empty plates of polenta and cups of cider.
"…so then the police shine flashlights into the tree Killer Croc is hiding in, and he says "MOOOO!"
Jeanette laughed, a warm, real, bell-like laugh, and Jonathan found himself laughing with her, uncertainly; he had not laughed normally since… he could not remember if he ever had.
There was a knock on the back door.
"That must be them!" The dark-haired girl sprang to her feet, walking with light, quick steps into the hall and out of sight, her footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. A moment later he heard the door open and his hostess say "Hi, Jervis!" as if it was normal for him to drop by after nine years' absence.
"Miss Cameron, hello." He could just envision Jervis bowing with a swoosh of his hat, bestowing a polite kiss on Jeanette's hand. And Cheshire looking jealous, he added with a slight grin. I wonder if Tetch will ever realize that she's falling for him? Even if he did, he'd probably feel uncomfortable about being "Alice, Alice," for three years, then figuring out that he and Cheshire are perfect for each other.
Jeanette entered with Cheshire and the Hatter in tow. Both of them looked faintly shocked to see Jonathan.
"You actually got him to eat something substantial?" asked Cheshire in a tone of awe, ignoring him and turning to the other girl. "Wow. Keep it up and he might gain a pound."
"If I was cooking for him regularly he might even look healthy," she answered as the Hatter greeted Jonathan and, with the instinct of a hummingbird going for a flower, headed for the tea cupboard. "But, enough about us-" Jonathan was not sure whether to be offended or pleased that she lumped her and him into an us - "How are you two doing, and where are you planning to go from here?"
"If you would fill them in, my dear, I'm fixing us some tea," Jervis called.
Cheshire sprawled comfortably in a purple velvet armchair and a wicked grin spread across her face. "Where to begin…?"
* * * * *
Cheshire took another sip from the warm cup of Earl Grey Jervis had brought her. She had moved to a red sofa so they could sit side by side, and Professor Crane and Jeanette were in chairs opposite to them. Already she liked the warm, welcoming, but a little wacky Jeanette. "We parked Bats' plane thing in Kensington Gardens and covered it with greenery." She yawned. It had been a tiring day. "Not a very good hiding place, but not many better places in London…" She trailed off, draining her cup and setting it on a table to her left.
"We were wondering if we might be able to stay with you a few days," Jervis picked up the thread "if it wouldn't be to inconvenient. We're both a bit recognizable, somebody might recognize us even here…"
He cut off. Cheshire was leaning against him, asleep.
"She's had a tiring day," remarked Jonathan, in the tones of someone discussing a four-year-old.
The Hatter remained still for a second in dilemma, then gently turned towards the girl, trying to get into a position where he could shift her to another part of the couch. Still asleep, Cheshire made a small complaining noise and grabbed the lapels of his coat, snuggling into his chest. He froze, turning slightly red.
"I'm going to go make sure the guest rooms are ready," said Jeanette, removing herself from the scene.
After a minute of silence except for the ticking of a clock, Jonathan sighed impatiently. "For heaven's sake, Tetch, relax. She's not radioactive."
Jervis slowly relaxed, putting one arm on the arm of the chair and, after a moment's thought, letting the other rest across Cheshire's shoulders. His face softened as he looked down at the sleeping girl, who looked absolutely happy.
"You know," said Jonathan in a far-too-casual voice, "I've been reading Alice in Wonderland lately. Thinking about things a bit." His pose was unusually nonchalant, and he was looking away from the other man. "Interesting that… even though Alice spends, what, a day in Wonderland, another in the looking-glass world - or maybe they are one and the same - but anyway, two days, perhaps a little more. Yet the books follow her as if she is the most important character, while even her most chance encounters, such as the Puppy and the Pigeon, show more character than she does. Some of the Wonderland creatures may have been temporarily dazzled by her, as she was so strange and new, but, after she left, life must have gone on… after she left, the Mad Hatter, the Cheshire Cat, the March Hare, all of them stayed, and must have eventually forgot… because she didn't really belong. She was the dream, the fleeting fantasy. They were the reality."
The Hatter was silent, but his thoughts were in turmoil. Was Jonathan being allegorical? Did he mean the Alice of this world, or of Wonderland? Strange, he had begun to think of her as simply 'Alice' or 'that Alice' instead of 'his Alice.' He had thought he had loved her… couldn't live without her. How could such a strong feeling just… go?
Cheshire sighed in her sleep, cuddling up to him with a peaceful smile. He looked down at her; it was like he was seeing her for the first time. Her soft yet determined chin, her smooth skin with the golden light glancing off it, giving it an angelic glow; the soft smile that he knew could turn devilish or mischievous in a second if she were awake, her blonde hair, cut to a little past her chin. He remembered the day she had come down with it cut, a laugh on her lips at his astonishment… "My dear, when I said your hair wanted cutting I didn't mean it literally!" Her cheerful reply… "It's okay Jervis, I wanted to do it."
His mind flickered through memories. Only three and a half months together and he had so many of her… Cheshire laughing at his tentative jokes, Cheshire never knowing where anything was but assisting in the search whole-heartedly, Cheshire trying to figure out the exact steps of the Lobster Quadrille, reminding him to eat, asking about his work - the light touch of her lips… and it all came down to Cheshire, warm and real in his arms, content to walk in Wonderland and pass the time with him.
"Perhaps…" His hand moved slowly to gently stroke Cheshire's hair. "Perhaps you are right, Jonathan."
And now he had another problem; to try and continue as if nothing had happened when he had just fallen in love… not again, but truly for the first time.
So, like it? Hate it? I don't own any of the sayings, or what Jeanette was singing; that comes from Crescent Moon. I want opinions on an issue in my reviews; do you think that I ought to do some of the chapters as songfics? I'd love to, but I'll bow to the majority vote.
Reviews boost my ego. Without reviews, my ego will shrivel up and die. Without an ego, I won't be able to write. SO REVIEW!