A/N: Again, apologies for the wait. At least there's no real storyline that you have to wait for updates for! *hopes that counts for something*

But many, many, MANY thanks for the reviews! You folks are the absolute best!

Note to Kat: (You didn't sign in for your reviews, so I couldn't reply to them) Yes, I did hear Johnny Depp say that about the hair. I had thought about giving Charlotte a different hair color, but I just really wanted her to have Daddy's crazy hair, so I decided that perhaps in Underland, things could work like that. The beauty of Underland! And I made the correction to what Helen said. You were absolutely right, that wasn't something that would have been said back then. Thanks for catching that!

This chapter is in Tarrant's POV and most of it is a companion to the end of chapter 5 of my other story "Wedded Bliss." You don't have to read it, but it compliments this, I think. And the idea came from futrCSI1490. You guys really are amazing when it comes to ideas! I hope I'm doing them all justice.

Anyway, enough babbling… again.

My Alice was nothing short of a miracle worker. She was the savior of Underland as well as my own savior. Without her, I shudder to think of what my life would be. I would probably still be sitting at those bloody tea tables. Or worse.

Back then, we spent all day carelessly having tea, but we weren't living. And I was merely existing, waiting. Waiting for my Alice.

And when she appeared, my life changed. I didn't know it then, but nothing was ever the same. I fell in love at that exact second. And it grew during our moments together and perhaps even more during our time apart before the Frabjous Day.

And now we were a married couple, for over 10 years. And we had two beautiful children. Giving up the constant tea time was no decision at all.

I pondered this a bit as I stood, waiting for the photographer to take another picture. I really thought the dozen he had snapped were good enough, but apparently we were looking for nothing short of perfection. Charlotte's eyes were closed, or Alice's hair wasn't right. Will was yawning, or I was yawning.

Finally, once we had the final shot, it was time to go home. As we walked through the door, we noticed how late it had gotten.

"Hatter, could you change Will into his pajamas please?" my wife asked. "I'm going to try to get this one into the tub."

"Yes, of course."

I smiled as I picked up my son and carried him to his nursery. Alice told me after Charlotte was born, how odd it was to her that I was so hands-on with the baby. She said that where she came from, the men had very little to do with those kinds of things.

As I laid Will on the changing table, I couldn't imagine doing anything else. This was my child. Why would anyone want to be so distant from that? Certain jobs weren't exactly pleasant jobs, but what could you do? Now, I knew that mine was an unusual case. I wanted to be as close to family as I could and if that meant changing diapers and burping babies, then that was fine with me.

Will smiled up at me as I tickled his toes. But even if someone hadn't lost their entire family in a tragic scene, I still couldn't figure out why any man would miss out on this.

Just then, I heard the distinct laughing and splashing that meant Alice had finally corralled Charlotte into the tub.

A giggle from my son broke me from my listening to my girls. "I'm terribly sorry, bean! I didn't mean to ignore you." I put his pajamas on and took him to Alice.

"We win!" I announced as we stepped into the room.

"You cheated and skipped the bath!" she protested.

"Yeah, Daddy! You guys cheated!" Lottie agreed.

I laughed. "All right. You got me. Tell Will goodnight, buttercup."

"Good night, baby brother!" she said before blowing him a kiss.

I passed him to Alice so she could kiss and snuggle him before bed. I knew she hated these evenings where she didn't put him down herself.

Once she finished, I took the very sleepy baby to his cradle.

"Good night, William Hightopp. May you have pleasant dreams. Daddy loves you." I placed a soft kiss to his forehead as he nodded off.

I went back to Alice and Charlotte to find Lottie drying off.

"Ready for bed, buttercup?" I asked.

"Yep!"

Alice helped her into her nightgown and she took off for her room.

"If I could bottle her energy…" Alice said with a sigh.

We tucked her in and then made our way back to our room. We changed for bed and laid down. Alice then put her head on my chest. I knew this meant she wanted to talk.

"What are you thinking of?" I asked, absent-mindedly playing with her hair.

"Today."

"Our portrait?"

"Yes. I just loved doing that."

"Even though Charlotte got bored and Will spit up?" I joked.

"Even through that. I just loved sitting there with my family. Tarrant, Alice, Charlotte and William Hightopp. Our family."

"I understand. It meant the world to me to stand behind the three of you, beautiful hats on each of you, posing proudly to tell the world that this was my family."

She smiled.

I returned the smile. "And of course, it makes me so happy to show the world that I have a beautiful wife and she'll actually pose for a picture with a crazy man such as myself. Of course, it also shows that she was willing to do other naughty things with me considering there are two little ones in the picture and they do look so much like us that they obviously came from such—"

"Hatter!" she said, laying a hand on my cheek.

I took a breath. "I'm fine."

She gave me a very small smile.

"What else is on your mind, cricket?" I asked.

"I want to do something for you. But you need to let me do it, all right?"

I nodded, somewhat suspicious.

"Don't look at me like that. It's nothing bad, I swear."

She sat up on her knees and looked deep into my eyes. "The other night, you explained to me how you loved the quirks of my body. I want to return the favor."

I froze. She knew I hated a great deal about my body.

Alice must have sensed my fear. She tapped my nose and said, "Ah, ah, ah. Turnabout is fair play, love."

She had me there, so I let her have her fun.

"Now, starting at the top, there is your firey colored hair. It may be an effect from your trade, but I cannot imagine you with a different shade. ... Have I made a rhyme?" Her smile lit up the room as she quoted me. All I could do was grin back.

"Anyway... Your hair reflects your wonderfully vibrant personality. You managed to pass the color along to our little girl and I smile when I see my two redheads playing in the gardens. And then there are your eyes, the lovely green windows to your soul, but we'll return to them in a second. A bit further down is a birthmark similar to mine, just a bit more difficult to get to." She shifted so that she was sitting on my legs and gently moved my head to the side to kiss the mark towards the back of my neck. I squeaked at the surprise.

Alice raised just slightly to my ear and whispered, "Now, usually when I do that, those green eyes of yours …" She pulled back to look at me. "… Yep, they turn a dark emerald color that gives me shivers. Your eyes tell so much about you. And not just that they change colors. They shine when you are happy and they get so muted when you're sad. And God help me when you're either. Because your moods are contagious."

My wife gave me a gentle kiss and then moved her fingers down to my chest. The least favorite part of mine.

"Slightly lower, are the scars that make me want to weep each time I see them, but at the same time, make me so proud to be yours. The scars of the war. The scars received in the dungeons."

I know she is avoiding saying "torture" or anything to do with the Red Queen.

"These tell me of your bravery and your loyalty. But most of all, of your love for me. You withstood unspeakable things, things I'm sure I'll never know about, to keep me safe. I can't tell you what that means to me."

"I would do it all again in a heartbeat," I told her.

"I know," she whispered as her finger traced each line left behind from Stayne's whip. It was as if she was trying to erase the memory. And it was almost working.

My Alice was nothing short of a miracle worker. She was right, I did go through unspeakable things in that dungeon. The beatings and the whipping were things I would never tell her about – she was right about that as well. The bruises had long since faded, but these few scars would remain, always reminding me about the bloody big head.

She placed a soft kiss on each of the marks on my chest. Leave it to my wife to make me feel so good about these scars left from such an ordeal.

"And then there are your hands. You are such a master of your trade and you make the most beautiful creations with these hands, but at what cost?"

Alice delicately unwrapped the bandages on each of my hands, revealing the calluses and cuts from my day to day work.

"Your hands suffer daily, so that you can make the most unbelievable hats for everyone."

"I don't mind it, sweetness. I love my work. It's just a sacrifice that I make. It's worth it to see a work of art on someone's head. Especially yours." I winked at her.

"Yes, well. I want you to know that I appreciate it." And with that, she kissed each of my fingertips and each of my palms. She leaned over to a bowl of water on the bedside table and dampened a cloth in it. How did I miss that was there? Apparently, Alice was planning this.

She gently cleaned my hands and replaced the bandages. It was one of the simplest and yet greatest acts anyone had ever done for me. She put the cloth down and looked me in the eyes, wordlessly telling me that we were moving on now.

"Now, a little bit lower is another birthmark, shaped like a little heart, and it's right here on your hip," Alice said, pulling my shorts down a bit to show the mark.

"I never noticed that it looked like a heart," I admitted.

"It was the first thing I noticed. It's pointing right towards …" She giggled innocently. I certainly knew better.

"And finally," she said, conveniently changing the subject. "Is the scar you received helping Mirana to safety that day."

She moved off my legs and delicately stroked the burn mark I have on my left shin.

"You've been through so much," she whispered, holding back the tears.

"Sweet Alice, please don't cry," I said as I sat up and wiped away the tear rolling down her cheek. "The past is past and there is nothing to be done about it. All I need is right now. You are my present and my future. These scars are reminders that the past happened, but because they are just scars and no longer wounds just means that they are in the past as well."

"You are a remarkable person, Hatter."

"You're not so bad yourself." I paused. "Thank you so much."

"For what?"

"Everything, I suppose. But more specifically, helping me to not hate my body … or my past."

"It was my pleasure. Though, I'll admit to getting the idea from a very wise man."

"Assuming you mean me, I can't think of a time where anyone has ever called me wise. This is definitely a first."

"First, yes, it was you. Second, Tarrant, you are very wise. But others, and you yourself, tend to not look beyond your mad tendencies. There is a sensible man behind the madness."

"That sounds crazy enough for me to have said it," I said with a giggle.

She gave me a mock glare. "Hush, you. I wanted to show you that nothing else matters to me but you. You made me sad when you said that you were happy that I would actually pose for a picture with you. Why wouldn't I? Do you really think your pale complexion and those colors under your eyes would matter?"

"To most people, yes. And, beloved, I know it doesn't matter to you. But it doesn't stop me from being happy that you are willing to be with me. I feel so special that you actually chose me to be the man you spend your life with."

"And I feel the same way that you want to be with me. Just because you don't look exactly like the people from my world, that means nothing to me. If anything, you are a breath of fresh air for me. Your look almost represents the madness that I needed. Does that make sense?"

"It does. Thank you, poppet," I said as I gently tugged on her to lay back with me.

"You are very welcome," she sighed.

"Perhaps we should get some sleep."

"Perhaps … or perhaps not," she said with that tone that made me sure that I would be working on another hat in the morning.

My Alice was nothing short of a miracle worker.