Alice had changed into her white nightgown and settled into bed. Suddenly, she felt the weight of a body on the edge of her bed. She rolled over and observed the face of a man she had seen many times in dreams, bathed in candlelight. "Hatter-" She started firmly.

He interrupted, "Alice, do you remember the day that you faced the jabberwocky?"

She was silent, then replied, "I do."

He spoke slowly; I wish I could have taken on that burden for you. I wish I could haven slain that monster."

She asked curiously, "Whatever for?"

He looked into her brown eyes a said softly, "To protect you."

She felt her face get warm.

"I had seen you as a little girl. I wanted to protect that little girl from harm. But when I saw you in that armor, I knew that you had grown up. You could fend for yourself. Even slay a demon."

She began to sit up.

"And when you left, I knew that you didn't want or need things like Wonderland. Things like me. You felt that we were childish." He paused and his bushy red eyebrows furrowed in concern, "Is that why you didn't want to stay, Alice?" He questioned, his green eyes searching hers.

His words were true, but his expression tore at her heart. Somehow, she hadn't considered the feelings of these people in Wonderland. Perhaps she did still think of them as figments of her imagination, even when she was there. That depiction was much harder to maintain with a real mad hatter sitting on your bed.

Perhaps if she touched him again, she could be sure.

The hatter inhaled swiftly as he felt Alice's arms surround his waist. He kept his arms up and away from her body- unsure of what to do in this situation. "Alice?" He asked for clarification. She held tighter. His cheeks were inexplicably warm. "Is this a custom in your world?" He asked tentatively. He could feel her balmy breath through his shirt due to her laughter.

"It is." She replied. He saw the mischievous smile cross her beautiful face. "Shall I show you more, as you asked, Tarrant?"

He swallowed at the use of his name. He was unsure of whether this was going to be good or bad. He was always dreadful at wagers. But he chose, "I would."

She said gently, "Close your eyes."

"How can I see if I close my eyes?" He asked.

She replied, "I thought you were mad. All the best people are."

He smiled at the compliment and closed his eyes. "So it seems." He admitted. Suddenly, he could feel a soft pressure on his lips. The texture was like the finest of silk used to compliment the best d'orsay. He opened his eyes to see what it was, and there was Alice. He pulled away nervously. Perhaps he was childish- naive and innocent. What she noted most of all, was inexperienced. He fumbled with words, "What does this custom mean?" She smiled and held one of his hands gently. "What do you feel that it means?"

He cast his eyes away from hers in thought. "All I can feel is warmth and silk and smoothness."

"Does it feel good?" She queried.

He paused and looked back at her, "Yes." He said shyly.

She asked again, "Would you like me to show you more, Tarrant?"

Her tone and use of his name were making his brain go foggy. He closed his eyes. "Alice," he replied as another kiss made his neck tingle. "I'm fairly certain you're why I've gone mad."

She laughed, "I'm fairly certain you've done the same to me."