There's a Starman waiting in the sky
He's told us not to blow it
Cause he knows it's all worthwhile

--David Bowie

Hatter settled into the role of a magician like his favorite hat settling onto his head. He had an uncanny way of recognizing exactly how far he could go with any given table, whether it was just to charm and chatter and do his card tricks, or if he could swipe watches and bracelets and necklaces, all returned of course with a brilliant grin and cocky apology.

He resuscitated his wild dressing style from Wonderland, adding only a new little sign in his hatband to play up the connection – "In this style, 10/6" – and sometimes pinning an exotic lily to a lapel. He'd raided every thrift shop in a three borough radius for wild shirts, funky jackets, and hats, oh goodness, the wilder the hat the better.

After three surprisingly successful weeks, Alice went to see him perform. She sat at the bar and nursed a cocktail as Hatter wound through the room between the main stage performances. The marquee outside had top-billed the stage magician, but on a side-bar display was a poster bearing the insolently grinning face of Hatter, with the words "And Featuring, The Mad Hatter" boldly across the bottom.

She wore the blue dress, this time with black tights and heels, and a little black jacket, and Hatter took great delight in introducing her to all his coworkers. He'd tell them her name, and they'd chuckle and nod at first, then laugh and shake her hand when they realized no really, her name is Alice.

Between his tours of the room, he'd sit next to Alice, as close as possible, and he'd grin and chat with the bartender and waitresses, keeping a warm arm around her waist. Alice smiled up at him, happy to see the return of the cocky Hatter who'd alternately charmed and infuriated her during their adventure, the one she'd come to love. She had not realized how very far he'd slipped away from his essential self in trying to fit in here in her world. The realization that he'd done so much, suppressed so much of himself, in trying to fulfill what she thought she needed, only made her love him more.

At one point in the evening, a couple took a table, and they laughed when Hatter went through his tricks. A little while later, the man stopped Hatter over by the restrooms and engaged him in a hushed conversation. Alice wasn't sure, but she thought she saw Hatter palm something the man had slipped to him, and pocket it.

"What's that about?" she asked quietly when Hatter rejoined her.

Hatter quirked a brow. "Watch next time I go over there."

An hour later, with a flourish, Hatter flipped over a card to reveal a little black velvet box suddenly appearing on their table. With cheerful banter, he accused the man of 'barging in on his act', and deftly slipped away in time to let the man propose to his date.

"That was great," Alice told Hatter later.

"He also tipped me fifty bucks, crazy blighter."

"Crazy for proposing?" Alice asked, a tiny corner of her mind wondering if Hatter were against marriage.

"Crazy for tipping! I'd've done it for free," Hatter answered with a grin, and another toe-curling kiss.

Suddenly, time was tripping cheerfully by. Alice went to work, satisfied with her job, and at home, Hatter's grin and his clever hands and his love kept her warm and happy. Hatter earned enough in three nights of work each week to cover his half of their expenses, and seemed to be enjoying himself better than he had since coming to her world. For a while, everything was right in their private world.

Then one Thursday, Hatter came home a little quiet. It was late – he never got home before midnight – but Alice liked to be awake to greet him, and she quickly noticed his subdued mood.

"What's the matter?" she asked.

Hatter frowned. "Nothing really. Did really well tonight, couple of extra tips."

"So?"

He stripped out of his outfit, and climbed into bed with her, clad in only a loose pair of shorts. "There was an older man there," he said as he cuddled her close. "Watching me."

"People watch you all the time, hon."

"This fellow was different." Hatter paused, then said, "He had on a baggy grey suit, a pair of tinted glasses, and a grey fedora." Alice rolled her eyes. Only Hatter would identify someone's hat by specific style. "He sat at the bar, and when I offered a trick, he watched with…. like he knew. Like he was an old con."

"Ah," Alice sighed. She felt Hatter nod.

"He had long narrow fingers, and when I shuffled, they twitched. He was an old con, Alice, he's been in the game."

"Did he say anything?"

"No, just watched, and thanked me. No tip. But I noticed Jerry and Hal being real polite to him." Jerry and Hal were the owners and managers of The Magic Club.

"What does this mean?" Alice asked.

"I don't know. Do you have to have a license or something, to be a magician?"

"I don't think so. I mean, there's like… a sort of union. I think. We could look it up tomorrow."

Hatter kissed the top of her head in agreement, and hugged her tightly. The two quickly fell asleep.

When Alice got home from work on Friday, Hatter was already dressed for the evening, in black slacks, a red paisley silk shirt, not unlike the one he'd worn when they met, and a bright orange porkpie on his head. A black jacket was tossed over the back of the couch, and he himself was poking at the computer keyboard.

"Find anything?" she asked.

"Yeah. I could be in trouble." Hatter explained that he'd found a couple of references to magicians' organizations, and since he didn't hold membership in any, he might be skirting a professional line. "Even if it isn't officially required, luv, it's tricky. I know how the con works, and folks don't like some new pup coming along, making a score without the brotherhood's say so."

"Honor among thieves?" Alice offered, amused at his concern.

Hatter gave her a look. "Sort of. More like, a territory. Ever notice how you see the same homeless guy day after day in the same spot beggin' for change? If you think they aren't organized, you're completely off base."

"So what will you do?"

Hatter shrugged. "Go to work. Play my games, see what happens."

Alice hugged him. "You have a good reputation. You've never actually stolen anything, you always give it back. You entertain, and you're popular. Even Jerry has said that people are coming back more regularly to see your tricks. So even if these magicians blacklist you, which has to be about the worst they could do, Jerry might keep you on."

Hatter frowned. "He might lose his main acts over it. We'll see."

Alice kissed him, and then said, "You be careful."

To Be Continued

AN- the Magic Club is loosely based on a certain club in a certain 80s movie starring a certain Pop Music Icon. Only you know, nicer, with a better reputation.