A/N: GASP. I updated.

Prompt: Caffeine.

Rating: K.

Warnings: FLUFF. A teensy bit of angst. :3

Length: Medium! Yay for it being longer than the previous two.

Disclaimer: I do not own Alice in Wonderland (2010), nor am I aiming to make any profit from this.

Caffeine

by Naranne

Oh, yes. Alice Kingsleigh was most definitely well acquainted with caffeine.

The affair had begun one positively dreary afternoon well before her second tumble down the rabbit hole (and her decision to stay put right where she belonged, in Underland), when the young, headstrong woman had escaped her mother's clutches and yet another speech regarding matrimony. She had swiped a few coins from her vanity, and had ventured daringly out into the town, bent on finding something far more interesting to do than listen patiently to her mother go into great detail about how she must be cared for and provided for. However, in her haste she had forgotten just how cold it could get in London. She had certainly not counted on losing herself in winding streets, or on the chill beginning to seep in through her thin clothing, more than adequate for the fire-warmed lounge of the manor, yet woefully ill-equipped to deal with a biting winter wind.

Shortly after, Alice found herself seated in a blessedly warm café in a small side-street she had previously not known existed, feeling herself beginning to thaw out from tip to toe and having ordered the very first warm drink she spied. However, the steaming cup that was placed in front of her was something the likes of which she had never seen before. The first sip left a burning, bitter after-taste, yet after a few more gulps Alice found she rather liked the odd concoction. And strangely, after she left the café, having ordered another cup full of the steaming, dark liquid, she found herself positively buzzing.

Thus, Alice Kingsleigh discovered coffee, that magical liquid which allowed her father to stay up far past the sun obsessing over his work, and which, from that point onward, she relied on quite regularly.

That fact, of course, was something which dearest Helen needn't become aware of.

However, despite Underland's many perks (and its vast abundance of tea), there was a darned shortage of coffee. In fact, Alice, just over a year after the Frabjous Day, had begun to doubt that the inhabitants of that vibrant, colourful world even knew how to grow the beans which produced the stuff. So it was that Alice, exhausted by the celebrations surrounding her defeat of the Jabberwocky and the triumph over the Red Queen, began to crave that gorgeous beverage which she had so long been denied.

It was with heavy footfalls that Alice escaped the throngs of people which a year on still longed to see, touch, and admire their champion, and made her way to Mirana's extensive quarters in the centre of her Palace. An idea had abruptly taken hold of her as she had been considering the fact that the celebrations and all the dreary formalities surrounding them had down-right drained her, and that tea no longer seemed enough to give her that buzz she remembered. The idea was a crazy one, to be sure, but she was positive that if anyone could aid her, it would be the White Queen.

After all, when one sought magic, there was only one person who was guaranteed to have the answers.

And the driving force behind Alice's now hurried journey to seek out Mirana concerned magic of two very different kinds.

Tarrant Hightopp had always been the life of the party – and when an event as momentous as the Frabjous Day was being celebrated, there was sure to be a most excellent party to be had. Why, he had danced the futterwacken until his feet were fit to burst, the muscles in his face were sore from the grin stretching them taut, and his sides near splitting from the continuous energy which that marvellous dance required.

The grand hall of Mirana's pristine white palace had been done up splendidly. Colourful banners and tapestries woven especially to commemorate the occasion hung from the walls, eliciting many gasps of admiration from the assembled crowd. Tables had been set up around the edges of the hall in order to accommodate the tremendous number of people the celebration had drawn to the palace, and at one end of the hall, a large, moving picture of Alice and her Queen had been erected, hanging from the ceiling and fluttering down to the ground, rippling in the slight breeze that came in from out doors. However, in the very centre of the dance floor, the crowd had formed a ring, and in its middle Tarrant was to be found, grinning from ear to ear, his eyes shining the most brilliant shade of green imaginable.

However, he had eyes only for the small group directly in front of him. Mallykum, who had been presented with an elegant miniature sword by the Queen herself, which the little mouse wore proudly at her side at all times (although she kept her hatpin hidden away, so as not to lose it, for she was far too sentimentally attached to it). Bayard and his family, bathed especially for the occasion with potions brewed by Mirana that made their fur shine, and smell positively brilliant. Chessur floated daintily above their heads, large, gleaming eyes focused constantly upon the ostentatious hat perched atop Tarrant's vibrant hair. The Tweedles, arguing constantly between themselves as they applauded their friend, their constant remarks back and forth regarding something which in all likelihood only they understood. Yet most of all, he was concerned with –

Tarrant frowned, pausing mid-dance yet not putting his feet flat on the floor, so concentrated was he upon the thought which had suddenly struck him that he balanced precariously (yet perfectly, not wavering an inch) with one foot poised in the air, and the other curled up on its toes. His audience enquired feverishly as to the reasoning behind his sudden halt, but he gave them no answer, instead cutting a path straight through their midst – with a polite excuse me, pardon me, of course – and heading toward where he knew Mirana would be, in her quarters. His audience was left in his wake, dumbfounded for two reasons: one, how he could balance so exquisitely and perfectly, and two, why ever he would vanish so abruptly.

Berating himself for not noticing sooner as he hurried to the Queen faster than he knew was probably reasonable – he'd gotten himself lost more than once in the palace's twisting corridors, running far too fast as some thought or another struck.

Really, he chided himself, it should have been glaringly obvious. Yet for some reason, it had escaped him.

Alice was missing.

She'd been right there, directly in his line of sight, yet he had missed her apparent vanishing act!

However, as he skidded to a halt outside the Queen's rooms, and knocked politely on her door – after calming himself as much as he was able – he was greeted with a lofty smile by Mirana herself, as she informed him that Alice was simply out on an errand, would be returning shortly, and that he should not worry about her whereabouts. He felt the hopeful grin adorning his face fade into a subdued smile, yet he remembered his manners well enough to thank the White Queen for her kindness and her information, and could have sworn he was afforded a knowing smile as she retreated back into her rooms, away from the cacophony of the celebrations.

Fighting the small scowl trying to steal its way across his features, Tarrant stomped back to his own quarters to sulk, and await Alice's return.

Alice could only think of one word to describe the feeling when she finally returned to the White Queen's palace, seated herself before the fire, cradled the steaming cup in her lips, and took the first sip: bliss. It was that cold winter's day all over again, except this time, upon returning to the world above and sneaking through the Ascots' mansion grounds to the town beyond, she had gone directly to the source, and had discovered an excellent new invention.

Instant. Coffee.

Apparently, time had been toying with them again, as several more years had passed in the world above. It had been only one short year in Underland, and yet, almost ten had passed in London – however, Alice gave little thought to considering the pros and cons of the differences in time. Upon returning to London, she had afforded her family a polite visit (she had managed to keep in contact with them in the last few weeks via letters: although the first, a mere few days after the Frabjous Day, had been delivered by Alice herself, McTwisp had consented to leave the remainder by the rabbit hole when Alice resumed writing to her relatives, and Alice's very confused family had learnt that there was where they would find the pristine envelopes). She stayed as long as she felt she was able to – although she felt a great swell of happiness at seeing her mother and sister again, she barely escaped another lecture on matrimony and settling down sensibly – before ensuring the remainder of her visit was as crisply co-ordinated and concise as possible.

As it was, she had bought several bags of the stuff, and upon returning to Underland, she had rode astride the patient Bandersnatch, who had delivered her immediately back to the White Queen's palace. Whilst Alice had always fought the restraints and manners of the English gentility as a child, she had been indoctrinated enough that she remembered to thank Mirana profusely for giving her the means to return to the world above – for her part, the Queen simply smiled loftily and assured the blonde that it really was nothing to concern herself over, peeping out the doors to her room as she did so. Had Alice not been so keen to reunite herself with her beloved beverage, she might have paused to question the knowing glint in the Queen's eyes as she bid her farewell, or why it was that Mirana had near blockaded herself in her quarters in the first place.

The sounds of the celebrations still tumbling onward in the remainder of the Palace barely reached Alice once she had set the kettle to boil, retrieved her favourite tea-cup, and settled herself down to wait. There was a restrained urgency to her actions as Alice carefully spooned perhaps a fair few more tea-spoons than was necessary of the crumbly dark brown powder into the cup, creating dark splashes on the sides of the pristine white china. The arm-chair was somewhat forgotten as Alice knelt on the floor of her rooms before the table, waiting for her coffee to cool down before she remembered that she was still wearing the dress she had been gifted with for the celebrations, and ought not to be dirtying it on the floor.

A content sigh escaped her as she closed her eyes, the hot beverage warming her from the inside out, its familiar, bitter after-taste lingering pleasantly in the back of her mouth and throat. Alice was not sure how long she simply sat there, curled up in her comfortable, worn arm-chair by the fire, feeling the coffee in her system chase away the drowsiness the celebrations had caused to take hold. Almost as good as the first sip was the moment when the heavy feeling in her eye-lids dissipated, and Alice thanked her lucky stars that she had been able to get her hands on that caffeine filled goodness. As much as she adored the exquisite flavours of tea, there was simply not enough kick.

However, it was not long before she was brought out of her calm, nostalgic reverie: there was a tremendously loud knock on the door to her rooms, and Alice was so startled that she nearly jumped, the precious liquid nearly spilling over the rim of the cup. The thought crossed her mind that a large coffee stain would have been a far bigger strain on the poor dress than kneeling on the floor, and a small scowl stole its way onto her face as whoever it was that sought entrance to her rooms knocked again, louder and more persistently than the first time. Setting her cup down carefully on the table adjacent to her arm-chair, she called for them to enter, schooling her features into what she hoped was a polite smile. After all, it was rather hard to stay mad when her system had just been inundated with hot, caffeinated goodness.

It was not a second after the words, "Come in!" had left her lips that the girl found herself being tugged forcibly into an extremely tight hug, as a cry of "Alice!" rang out across the room. She gasped as arms encircled her tightly, squeezing the air from her, yet she did not worry about who it may have been – if the flash of vibrant, orange hair as he had run at her and reached for her had not been enough, the texture of the jacket she was pressed tight against, and the scent which tickled her nostrils was certainly more than adequate. Forgetting herself for a moment, she wrapped her arms about his waist, burrowing her head into his shoulder – the thought that he had evidently been so concerned over her sudden disappearance (even if she had only been gone less than a day) warmed her far more than the coffee had. However, the embrace ended only too soon – reality crashed down on her, as Alice remembered just whose chest she was so tightly pressed to, and that everything was strictly, frustratingly, unchangingly platonic between them.

"Hatter, I can't breathe," she squeaked, and he jumped back abruptly.

"Terribly sorry," he replied cheerily, infallible grin in place as he studied Alice with curiousity. His eyes, thankfully a bright, incandescent green, contrasted starkly with the remainder of his attire; it looked as if he had simply pulled everything with splashes of colour out of his extensive wardrobe and thrown the outfit together with not a care for how it appeared afterward. However, knowing Tarrant, Alice thought there was probably a reason behind the apparent madness – he was not one known for sedate clothing choices, even when there was not a large festival currently underway.

Silence reigned for a moment, and just as Alice had begun to feel uncomfortable under his scrutiny, one hand crawling up to tug at the edge of her sleeve, and the other to toy with one of many curls that tumbled over her shoulder, Tarrant blurted, "Why did you leave?"

Ignoring the implied question of: "Why did you leave without telling me?", Alice brightened instantly and merely plonked herself back down in the arm-chair, where as way of explanation she gestured with one hand to the now only slightly steaming cup of coffee in front of her, the tantalising smell wafting toward her. She grinned as Hatter's eyes fixed on the cup, watching as he realised that this was the reason she had so abruptly vanished.

"Is that… tea?" he asked, nose wrinkling disdainfully at the smell. Alice fought the urge to roll her eyes at him. She opened her mouth to explain the wonders of the beverage before him, yet no sooner had she uttered the first syllable than Tarrant had mumbled something slightly incoherent about inferior tea and ignorant girl, roughly picked up the cup with one hand and drained the whole lot, ignoring the liquid that splashed over the sides, staining his clothes and her carefully polished table.

Alice gaped.

My… coffee…

In astonishment, she glanced from the eccentric man standing before her, to the empty cup on the table, and back again. Empty! The cup was empty, where just moments ago, just mere seconds ago, there had been gorgeous, hot, delicious, unobtainable –

"You drank my coffee," she gasped incredulously, too stunned to be furious. The fact that she had bags of the stuff sequestered away seemed to have escaped her.

Hatter turned to her with an expression that was half confusion, half grimace. "Is that what it was?" he responded, blithely unaware of the horror Alice was currently experiencing. Alice spluttered, trying to remind herself that he couldn't have known what it was, as there was not a single place which produced coffee in all of Underland. Nor could he have known just how much she had missed the life-giving dark bean in her time away from London.

"Terrible stuff," the Hatter remarked, casting about for a glass of water as if to rid himself of the taste.

Alice froze.

What?

"You mean to tell me," she began, voice deathly calm as she rose from her position curled up in the arm-chair and strode towards him, "that not only did you drink all of my coffee, but you didn't even like it?"

By this point, Tarrant had retrieved for himself a carefully cleaned glass – one of her glasses, carefully cleaned by her, the person he'd just stolen coffee from – and had filled it with water, to the point that it nearly was overflowing. The way he gulped the clear liquid down, it was as if he had never tasted anything sweeter. When he did not respond Alice repeated her question, now standing merely half a metre behind him.

Chugging down the last of the water and placing the glass down on her bench with an almighty thump, he turned and exclaimed, "Why, yes!"

Alice blinked, taking a small step back. She had only gotten angry with her crazed, lovable friend (no, she did not just use the word lovable to describe Tarrant Hightopp) a scant few times in the year she had been in Underland, and he had most certainly never reacted with grins and cheerfulness. She cleared her throat, unsure whether she was interpreting the situation correctly. As far as she was concerned, one did not respond with a wide, beaming grin when one was confronted about stealing, and then having the audacity to not even enjoy that which had been stolen!

"Pardon me?" she inquired, as politely and sweetly and she could muster.

The Hatter looked at her a moment, brows furrowed, as if he were not sure whether she had understood his words correctly. It was the sort of look one would bestow upon a very small, slow child, and it only served to infuriate the blonde coffee fanatic. However, the moment Tarrant began to speak, the grin was back, splitting his face from ear to ear. "It's absolutely awful," he stated emphatically, nodding to emphasise his words.

Alice's jaw dropped. "Excuse me?"

"Why any sane person would prefer such a horrible concoction when one has tea available, I really cannot fathom, and for that matter, it's utterly beyond me as to why I made the assumption that it was tea in the cup, after all – I mean, no tea that I have ever brewed has ever turned out with that positively wretched a smell, so are you sure you brewed it correctly, Alice?"

This was all said very fast, and with not a single breath taken in its midst. When he had finished, Tarrant blinked, demeanour faltering for a moment. However, he recovered just as quickly, and with a grin folded his hands politely in front of him, nodding to her as if encouraging her to explain the perplexing situation to him. The expression on his face was utterly bewildering.

However, Alice's only reply was to pout, cross her arms beneath her chest, and mutter, "You're a fine one to talk about what a sane person would do."

The Hatter seemed so put out that she would not take part in his mission to discover just why she would ever want to subject herself to something so "absolutely awful" that Alice nearly laughed. Nearly. She was, regrettably, still angry with him for his unforgivable offence, or perhaps she would have laughed and reassured him. But as it were, he would have to go without such reassurance, and he only had himself to blame. Alice nodded to herself. She was absolutely one-hundred percent right, of course, and there was no way that was overreacting to the situation in the slightest, or that the man before her did not actually deserve her anger.

Which he did, of course. Deserve her anger, that is.

In order to reignite her outrage, Alice glanced back down at the empty cup sitting innocently on her table, surrounded by a brown stain that was the remnants of the only coffee which had not disappeared down Tarrant's throat. Though it may have worked and she had remembered exactly why she was angry, when Alice returned her gaze to where the thief had been a scant few seconds ago, he was nowhere to be seen. Exasperated, Alice cast about the room, only to find the man standing by her window, running his hands over the fabric of her curtains and muttering to himself excitedly, the wide grin having reasserted itself.

If Alice had been the type of girl to give in to melodrama and stamp her foot, there would have been much foot stamping done. However, Alice Kingsleigh was most certainly not that kind of girl, so she settled for sighing angrily, narrowing her eyes, and seating herself with an indignant huff in her arm-chair, where she proceeded to sulk. Naturally, sulking was a far more refined activity than foot stamping.

However, Alice could not make her anger last much longer, as it gave in to absolute bewilderment and amusement as Tarrant scurried about the room, shouting things to her excitably as he appeared to make various discoveries about the different fabrics in her room. Fabrics in which there should have hardly been anything left for him to discover, as he had helped choose all of the materials which formed the various aspects of her room, when she had first chosen her quarters, suitably close to the Queen's own, as befitting one of Mirana's friends and advisors. Seeming to have forgotten that his female companion had been furious moments earlier, the Hatter continued to excitedly call various titbits to her over his shoulder. In the face of such unashamed exuberance, Alice could not help but give in and laugh, as she realised what had happened.

As it had been the first cup of coffee she had been treated to in what seemed an inordinately long time, and as she was woefully inexperienced with not only the making of her own coffee but the newfangled invention of instant coffee, the steaming cup had turned out rather strong. In any ordinary circumstances, Alice suspected there was rather a lot more caffeine in coffee than in tea… and there had been several teaspoons of ground coffee beans in the cup which Tarrant had drunk without pause, believing it foolishly to be something far sweeter. Alice's eyes widened slightly. That was certainly a lot more substance than the poor man's body was probably used to. In a rapid change from her anger just moments before, Alice found giggles escaping her.

A shout and a crash brought her sharply from her thoughts, and Alice gasped as she saw that Tarrant had knocked a vase to the floor – it had shattered, sending pieces of china skittering across the carpeted ground. The shout had been a curse as he realised he had broken something of hers, yet he was now pacing restlessly, muttering things under his breath which sounded far darker than his previous demeanour, and Alice caught snatches of Outlandish and the Scottish brogue which he often slipped into when angry or caught up in his lurking madness.

With a cry she flung herself from the chair as she caught sight of his eyes, flickering dangerously between orange, yellow, and yellow-ish green. They changed constantly, never resting on one particular colour, progressing further and further toward the darker colours, frighteningly away from the light, vibrant green they had been only moments earlier.

"Hatter," Alice shouted, hoping to bring him out of such a dark place with the sound of his name.

He ignored her, continuing his pacing, an unending stream of thoughts tumbling from his lips, Outlandish and Scottish brogue blurring into one, his eyes a steady orange. Alice suddenly felt terribly, terribly guilty – apparently, such high levels of caffeine were not a good thing, and she highly doubted whether her anger at his innocent mistake had helped matters at all. Reaching out, she gripped his arm tightly, spinning him around to face her. He fought her grip for a moment, yet she refused to budge, knowing that it could get dangerous for him if she did not manage to pull him out of it.

Sullenly, he grew still, but his eyes remained a dark, deep orange, and a scowl twisted his features. Alice realised her mouth had gone dry, and swallowed. He was still muttering darkly, the words pouring out, as if beyond his control. "Hatter," she pleaded. Tarrant ignored her, and she warily took one hand from his arm to place it on his cheek in a vain attempt to soothe him.

"Ye left," he spat. Alice blinked. "Ye left, and ye left no' because ye had to, but because ye couldna' stand to go another day without that bloody coffee, and ye didna' even think about how the rest o' us might feel when ye just up and vanished with no warning – nothing."

Dumbfounded, Alice blindly searched for words to counter what he had just said – to placate him.

A look of confusion and disgust replaced the anger on his face for a moment. "It doesna' even taste good. With all the things that Underland has to offer ye, and ye go off chasing something which doesna' even have any sort of advantage over anything we can offer ye whatsoever – is Underland not good enough for ye? Is that it?"

"Tarrant!" Alice tried, feeling hurt at his words yet refusing to relent.

"Is it no' enough for ye that I'm in love with ye, and have been since –"

Tarrant cut off, and there was a silence in which Alice dared not breathe, as she watched his eyes return to a pale green. The anger faded from his expression, to be replaced with a faint horror as what he had just yelled seemed to sink in. Alice felt his tense muscles relax under her grip, and let out her breath slowly, closing her eyes and calming herself. She refused to think about what he had just near screamed at her, yet it seemed to hang in the air, taunting them, and when she opened her eyes, she realised he had raced for the door, and even if he were calm, the situation was hardly any better.

With a slight growl of frustration, she rushed after him, and grabbed his shoulder. "Wait."

She heard him sigh, but he obeyed nonetheless. "So you're just going to go from one extreme to the other, then blurt something like that, and leave?"

Tarrant shrugged, and she could tell he was near pouting, even though his face was hidden from her. The parallel would have made her laugh had she not been filled with a sudden tumult of emotion.

"Not to mention, stealing my coffee."

He tensed. Alice laughed and rubbed his shoulder soothingly to soften her words and make him realise she was only joking. "I have bags of the stuff, don't worry. Plenty of resources for me to convert you to loving it."

"It's disgusting," he mumbled. "Tea is far better." However, she could tell he was calmer now. Alice laughed softly. At her slight push, he turned to face her, and she felt a small wave of relief wash over her. She offered him a grin, and cocked one eyebrow, hiding her uncertainty and the myriad of questions she really, really wanted to ask behind a façade of confidence – apparently, he was not quite so adept at hiding his emotions, for she could see plainly written in his eyes everything she was careful to hide under the surface.

"Tarrant," she said quietly, cupping his cheek as she had moments ago, before he had attempted to run. As if without thinking, he leaned into her hand.

He gave her a strangled smile. "I'm fine," he choked out, although it was not entirely convincing.

Alice swallowed when she realised just how close they were standing – his angry admission filled the silence that followed, and Alice began to worry her lower lip with her teeth. However, when he made to leave again, mumbling that he really had to go, that he had work to do, had promised Mirana a grand ensemble of a hat to outshine any she had ever worn, Alice made a snap decision. After all, if she was such a coward that she did not act quickly and decisively, she could hardly continue to lay claim to her muchness. Insistently, she gripped his shoulder with her free hand, halting his attempts to turn away, and, rising up on her tiptoes, pressed her lips to his own.

The kiss was short, sweet, and chaste.

They broke apart quickly; the moment was so fleeting that Alice was barely sure she had actually done it, yet she was reassured when she saw the look of absolute wonder adorning Tarrant's face, his eyes the lightest shade of green she had ever seen them, bordering almost on a pale blue. Swiftly, he pulled her to him in a tight embrace, arms encircling her – Alice wound her arms around his neck, fingers weaving into his thick, curly hair, stroking his neck with her thumb. He sighed contentedly, and she nuzzled his shoulder as his hand traced circles on her back.

After a moment, he pulled back, yet only enough so that he could send her a mischievous grin before capturing her lips with his once again. "You know," he mumbled in between kisses, "I have decided after giving it due thought, that this coffee business –" a pause, as he gave in and kissed her thoroughly – "isn't all that bad, after all."

Alice could not help but grin.

A/N: So, that took a really long time to update. o.o Sorry.

They may be a bit OoC, but I really hope not, although it has been a drattedly long time since I've seen the film.

Also: I'm getting really annoyed at how much this website eats my formatting. I can't even have curvy apostrophes and quotation marks. NOPE, they must ALL be straight and ugly. -sad face-

ANYWAY, hopefully the wait won't be so long until the next one. Reviews are greatly appreciated. :3

Much love,

Naranne.