Another update, dear readers. As always, Vanilla212 gets major kudos for her fantastic beta work.
It was ironic, Alice thought, that Chezerin's boat was just around the corner from where she'd decided to wait out the night. How she could have missed it so easily she didn't know, but there it was.
Chezerin jumped aboard and disappeared under the burlap cover that stretched over the stern. Alice gingerly stepped into the boat and, unsure of what else to do, crawled under the burlap after the cat. She was expecting it to be a tight squeeze, since it was a very small vessel, but to her surprise there was an open hatch in the belly of the boat.
She followed the cat down the hatch into a short, angled tunnel, which opened into a spherical room with translucent walls. It was lined with cushions and little odds and ends that Chezerin must had dragged into it. She ran her fingers over the smooth surface of one of the curved walls, and thought it might be made from the same kind of glass that was melted over the frame of the dining room table back at the shop. The chamber wasn't very spacious, but it looked like she would be able to sit and stretch her legs in front of her – if Chezerin invited her to sit, that is.
The cat was curled up on a cushion across from her, staring through the glass into the water. "Welcome, please take a seat," her host said in a lazy, amused sort of tone. "Are you fond of fish, little oyster?"
Alice sat down across from it. "I have a name, remember?"
"Why yes, you do. Alice, I believe?"
"Yes."
"Are you fond of fish, little Alice?"
Alice shrugged. "Not really. I think they're ugly."
The cat yawned and brought a paw up to lick. "That's a shame. But on to business. Would you be so kind as to tell me what brought you down here?" The cat turned to face her, and she noticed that its grin had begun to fade.
Alice hesitated, suddenly unsure of what to say. "It's not really about business."
The cat kept licking.
Alice gathered her thoughts and swallowed. "I don't have many friends, you know. At the shop. Tea-heads aren't exactly good company. But the shop's closed right now, so I thought I might come see you again. You seemed…nice."
The cat abruptly stopped licking and looked over at her. Its grin had widened again. "Nice?" It said. "My, my. You can't possibly be that ignorant. It rankles me just listening to it."
Alice tensed in spite of her best efforts not to, as every story she'd ever heard about the viciousness of Cheshire cats crowded on her thoughts. Stupid, Alice. Miserably stupid. She should have known better than to try this.
"That isn't quite what I meant," She blurted out.
"I believe safe is what you meant, though again, I've no idea how that got into your head. How typical."
Alice felt her face flush with anger, and she sat up straighter. "Typical? Look, buddy, oysters wouldn't be so dull if your kind didn't keep us on drainers!"
"Touchy, aren't you?" The cat sauntered over and sat in front of her. "Please, don't affiliate me with those inbred royals at the casino."
Alice was regretting her outburst. The cat, of course, was between her and the only way out of its den. She wondered how long it would take Hatter to find her remains.
It was staring up at her face. "Would you ever cross me, Alice?"
She thought for a moment. "No."
"Why not?"
"You'd probably kill me, and I don't want to die." She shifted her weight, wondering if she could smother it with a cushion long enough to make her escape.
The cat's grin had started to fade again. It moved away from her and resumed its grooming. "I have just decided that I am having tea at this time tomorrow. You are welcome to join me."
What? "Oh. Why this time?" she asked.
"Because it is convenient. Do you have any objections?"
"Yes. It might be convenient for you, but it's dangerous for me."
The cat sighed. "Very well. We'll have tea shortly after midday. Don't be late."
"All right," Alice agreed with a nod, thinking to herself that the invitation was really more of a demand. She wasn't exactly in a position to turn it down.
There was a long moment of silence, broken only by the sound of the cat's continued grooming. When Alice didn't move, it looked up again. "Why are you still here?"
"I don't know the way back."
"Why come down here in the first place if you don't know the way back? You can't possibly expect me to compensate for your oversight."
"You won't even give me directions?"
The cat sniffed haughtily. "I would, if I thought you were capable of following them."
Alice gave it the full benefit of her own haughty sniff. "Do you think I'd be working for Hatter if I couldn't follow directions?"
The cat let out a short, derisive laugh. "Your Hatter is an imbecile. He is entirely lacking in discernment, so his approval is hardly a mark in your favor. You would do well to remember that."
Hatter, an imbecile? No way in hell.
There was another long moment of silence, during which Alice weighed her options. She wasn't about to go get herself lost among the docks again, but the idea of staying the night in the Cheshire's den didn't seem like a good idea, either. That was assuming that it would let her stay, and it probably wouldn't.
The cat spoke again. "Of course, being for the most part feline, I am open to persuasion."
What? "What kind of persuasion?"
"The best kind: it requires only a touch of effort on your part."
"Then why bother with it?"
"Because I'm taking pity on you. Don't question your good fortune."
Alice wanted to be indignant, but was too relieved, and still frightened for all of that. "What do you want from me?"
Chez sharpened its claws on a well-worn cushion. "You're a sort of cleaning maid and bartender for Hatter, I believe?"
Alice eyed its sharp, polished claws. They weren't helping her nerves at all. "How do you know about that?"
"One question at a time, dear oyster. Word travels quickly here."
"Yes, I am."
"Excellent. That means you're in charge of stocking the teas, I'd imagine?"
Alice hesitated. Why on earth would Chez be interested in the teas? Did Cheshire cats drink tea? "I do some of them, but Hatter does most of it. He took the storeroom keys with him when he left."
That was a half-truth at best, since Hatter had been trusting her to keep track of more and more of the teas recently. Besides, the shop didn't actually have a single tea storeroom, just a haphazard system of cupboards and closets spread between most of the rooms. Chez watched her lazily, as if perfectly aware that she wasn't being entirely truthful.
Alice reminded herself that it couldn't possibly be a mind reader. Right?
"So there's no possibility of your gaining access to a sip or two? Surely there are still deliveries to be made, even with the shop closed."
"Dormie takes care of those," Alice said before she could catch herself.
"Dormie?" The cat's whiskers twitched disapprovingly. "I'm terribly sorry that you've been burdened with such an abysmal co-worker."
"He'd say the same about me," Alice pointed out. "Maybe he thinks being an oyster is infectious."
The cat snorted delicately. "That would explain the numerous and otherwise inexplicable idiocies of our current ruling family."
Alice glared, but Chezerin didn't even acknowledge it. "You know," it said after a moment of uncomfortable silence, "if Dormie happened to misplace his keys, you're the last person Hatter would think to blame." It watched her calmly, and when she didn't answer, it added, "If I remember correctly, Dormie has a bit of a tea habit."
"How do you know about that?"
"He reeked of tea last time I was up there. Disgusting little man - he was practically oozing it from his filthy grey pores."
"You've been up there?"
The cat regarded her with what must have been the feline version of a smirk. "Ah, such ignorance! You're likely the funniest thing I've seen all year," it said with a condescending chuckle. "Of course I've been there. I've been wandering this city longer than you or your parents — assuming they still live — have been in existence."]
Alice found it necessary to glare again. "I never knew my parents."
The cat shrugged. "It makes no difference to me."
"It doesn't to me either, but that doesn't mean I want to talk about it."
"If you don't want to talk about it, then it clearly does make a difference to you. Unless, of course, you don't want to talk about it because it is not the subject at hand, which is preferable."
The cat moved away from the entrance and curled up on a blue satin cushion next to Alice. "For what it's worth, I despised my parents."
"What were they like?" Alice couldn't help asking.
The cat yawned and gave a casual flick of its paw. "Back to the subject at hand, little oyster."
"Fine. Why do you want tea?"
"Why does anybody want tea? Because I enjoy it. No, not to the point of being a proper tea-head, mind you, but I do like to indulge from time to time."
Curious, Alice thought. She had yet to meet a Wonderlander who could drink tea without becoming a tea-head. But was Chez a proper Wonderlander, even though he lived here? Other than being…well, cats, she didn't know how his kind would be classified.
Pushing that aside to think about later, she turned her attention back to the urgent matter at hand. Was she actually willing to steal from Hatter? The thought made her feel more than a little uneasy, but it was the only way she could comply with Chez's request. She could try to pay for it from her wages, but tea didn't come cheap. It wouldn't take long at all to burn through her savings.
Just this morning she'd decided that she couldn't steal from him, but what other options did she have? Maybe she could just do it once or twice, just enough to pay Chez back for protecting her tonight. Hatter would understand. She would tell him about it as soon as she could be sure he wouldn't lose his temper with her.
Of course it would be all right. Hatter would never hurt her.
"How much tea would you want?"
Chez brightened visibly. "Perhaps a bottle a week? That's hardly a pittance."
Alice's mouth fell open. "Are you serious?" she demanded, too surprised to keep the anger out of her voice. "That's ridiculous! I am not stealing a bottle of tea for you each week. There's no way in hell I would get away with it."
The cat frowned at her. "The lowest I'll go is half a bottle. Though with your atrocious manners I really shouldn't."
Alice had watched Hatter negotiate enough – and done enough of her own silent bargaining behind the counter - to know not to press her luck there. She brought up her next bargaining point. "Two weeks," she said. "I'll only do it for two weeks."
"And what do you expect in return?"
Alice didn't hesitate. "Either let me stay here tonight, or bring me back to the tea shop safely. I'll expect the same if I have to deliver your tea under dangerous conditions."
The cat yawned again, as if bored by her determination. "Fine, fine. I expect the first one by Thursday."
Thursday, Alice thought with relief, was the day before Hatter got back. She could worry about sneaking the second shipment past him later.
She did hate the thought of sneaking something past Hatter, though.
"I'll take Melancholy for my first brew," Chez said, "assuming Hatter stocks merchandise of that much refinement and nuance."
"Of course he does," Alice said quickly. "Are you ready to take me back?"
Chez stood slowly and sauntered to the other side of the room. "In the morning. I'm not inclined to go anywhere tonight."
It curled up in front of the entrance and appeared to relax into a deep sleep the instant its head touched the cushion, but Alice wasn't fooled. Chez knew everything she was doing. She could feel the cat's awareness, just as if it were watching her.