Lovers

[wanderamaranth]

Summary: Alice learns what should have come immediately after giving Hatter the thimble, and corrects her mistake, with some advice from Margaret, Mally, and even McTwisp along the way.

Rating: M

The next installment in the growing 'Family' series.

Disclaimer: Don't own, not making any profit, etc.

First part of the series is here: Family
Followed by : Brother, Pt. 1 and Brother, Pt. 2
***

Neither Alice nor the Hatter were able to look at each other without the deepest of blushes staining their cheeks for several days, (not that it seemed they minded, for after the blushing came activities which caused the observers of said blushes to blush themselves) the Flowers twittered, and it was all Margaret Manchester and Mallymkun the Dormouse's fault.

It had all started during a pleasant enough day, several weeks following Alice's bold flight into Underland with a thimble and not much of a plan beyond knowing she needed to speak with the Hatter. (And what explanations she'd had to weave for her Mother after that! Even though Alice soothed her with admittedly untrue suppositions 'I might have gone out the window, Mother, and you just thought it was latched tight!' she could tell she was beginning to Suspect the Truth, which Alice would have never thought Helen possible of doing before. Really, she scolded herself, she ought to know better, as nothing was really impossible, just more or less improbable. Her mother thinking that Alice had escaped via the Looking-Glass was improbable indeed, yet still seemed to be True.)

A simple revelation it should have been, that of she being a woman, and the Hatter being a man! Yet she had only ever consciously considered the Hatter as similar to a brother; it took Hamish's admission of sibling-like feelings for Alice to comprehend the difference between the two. Hamish she most certainly still thought on as a brother, though, and was gratified that he thought on her in a similar manner.

Upon giving the thimble to the Hatter (which she'd found in a cake at Hattie's bridal shower-Hattie, whom Hamish was marrying; yes, Lowell's Hattie, which, even after her marriage to Hamish, Alice persisted in thinking of her as) she'd made no passionate declaration. He'd begun to ask her what it meant, but she'd cut him off, and he'd seemed content.

It was Mallymkun who let her know otherwise.

She (Alice, that is, not her Mother) had been sitting at a well-appointed Tea Table in Queen Mirana's cheery cherry tree grove, sipping Tea and giggling at the antics of Thackery as he rushed ever-more pastries towards she and the Hatter.

"What do ye th'k of this one?" he warbled, setting a mint-jelly slathered, raisin-dotted scone in front of her. Before she had a chance to reply (or even sample it, which she would have, even though she was reluctant to do so" he'd chucked that sample behind him, where it struck a cherry tree and slid down to the ground with a sad plop. "No, no, no! Try th'sn instead! Yes, much better."

Alice was just raising the heavily frosted bit of cake that was her newest sample from the March Hare to her mouth (and hoping it was not Upelkuchen again, as he'd done that to her before while at Tea, and laughed hysterically, even as all of her clothes Shredded and fell away. Only quick thinking from Tarrant and a wall tapestry had preserved her modesty.) when Mallymkun got to the table.

"So, you've decided to grace us with your presence once again!" she'd snapped one day, small paws resting on her hatpin. "To what do we owe the honor?"

"Good to see you, too, Mallymkun." Alice had smiled, and the Dormouse harrumphed.

"You'd be seeing more of me if you'd hurry up, marry, then move here and put that great lump at the end of the table out of his misery!"

"Mally!" Hatter had hissed.

"What? You've had the longest engagement ever in the history of Underland! Absolem said so, and he should know, being the Keeper of the Oraculum and all!"

"Mally…" Hatter groaned, but the damage had already been done.

"Engagement?" Alice asked, nervously. She'd known that she was asserting intentions towards the Hatter when she'd given him the thimble, but she wasn't aware that it was an actual proposal.

Smiling in an manner equal in nervousness to that in Alice's voice, the Hatter bit his lower lip, the faintest sliver visible of the gap between his front teeth. Both stared at one another, silent, until Mally broke the stillness.

"You mean you didn't know?" she demanded, dismay clear. "That's all anyone has been able to talk of for the last few weeks, was when you'd finally make it official! But now I learn the girl doesn't even know what she has waiting for her!"

A muttered, "Oh, dear. Th'nk I hear the butter cal'in me!" had been Thackery's contribution, before he slunk away from the awkward situation.

Withdrawing her pin and sticking it violently into the table-top, Mallymkun declared, "If I didn't know for certain you were the right Alice, I'd be beginning to wonder right about now. And you!" The Dormouse rounded on the Hatter, and he shrank away from her advance in his chair. "What are you on about, having us think that nice new thimble was an Engagement gift, when it's clear now she was just being sisterly?"

"Dinna use that word!" the Hatter demanded, eyes rimming red with Rage.

"What, sister?" Mally challenged. "If she's not your Intended, then she must be-"

"I am, Mally." Alice had broke in, seeing a fight brewing that would not End Well for either the Dormouse nor the Hatter, although for very different reasons. "At least, I believe I am."

The Hatter's lips had parted, and he'd said breathily, "You don't need to say such things just to please Mally, Alice." The phrase was worded as a denial, but the red of Rage had cleared completely from his eyes, the contented green glow letting the young woman know he was very pleased, and intent on what she was saying.

The Dormouse looked between her best friend and the woman he was in love with and sighed. "I see you have some things to discuss." she'd grumped, half-heartedly. "Things that should have been discussed weeks ago-" she shot a pointed look at the Hatter, who had the grace to look abashed, "but I suppose being Late is better than Killing Time altogether, isn't it? Little steps, they say." She climbed down the table and trotted off, intent on asking Thackery about making extra scones for the next Tea.

"Just how are couples bound in Underland, Hatter?" Alice asked, once they were alone.

Bowtie flaring hopefully, Tarrant said, "Why, the couple announce they belong to one another."

"That's it?" Alice smiled. From the way Mally had been talking, Alice had been worried there was more to it than that. "What a welcome relief from the way it's done above! We have to hold something called a wedding, see, and it's like a party, but much less fun."

"A party would be grand, to celebrate the announcement, but it's not considered necessary, no." Suddenly finding the contents of his tea-cup most interesting indeed, Hatter said, "There may be…one other thing that needs to happen, for the marriage to be acknowledged."

Slumping in her seat and crossing her arms in a pout, Alice said, "I should have known! What is it? We have to climb the tallest mountain and convince it to be flat? Trick Chessur into frowning? What impossible thing will we have to do?"

Silently thrilling at the 'we' and all of it's implications, the Hatter stuttered, "No, Alice. Nothing like that. No Jabberwockies to slay." Considering the best way to tell her, he finally settled on the delicate explanation of, "The couple must Know one another."

Alice burst out laughing, pout forgotten. "I should hope so, Hatter!"

"I believe you…misunderstand me." gulping, and with a unspoken demand to himself to stop wimbling, (for how could he expect her to actually do such a thing with him if he couldn't even speak of it!) said, "They must become…the most intimate of acquaintances."

"Oh." Alice said, then as what the meaning of the Hatter's words fully came to her, repeated "Oh!" in a much different tone. "Before or after the announcement?" she asked, voice small.

"Either." he said, wanting to reach out a hand to her, but forcing himself to not. "Usually an engagement is begun with the exchange of small gifts to one another, with the announcement following in the next few days."

"Hence Mally's disapproval of me." Alice said, staring straight ahead.

"Hence Mally." the Hatter agreed, looking away from Alice, and her wonderful-shining-golden Alice eyebrows, which were pulled down in the most disagreeable of expressions.

"Will you excuse me, Hatter?" she asked. "I have…something that needs doing." She stood from the table and floated away from him, her entire air and manner of walking that of a person in shock.

She's leaving! Don't just sit there, stop her! Tarrant demanded of himself, yet did no such thing. If she'd made up her mind to go, it didn't really matter what he wanted, did it? He felt his throat close up as she drifted further from the table, and condemned himself for several types of a fool for ever thinking there was the possibility that Alice could be his.

---

There were some books, Alice realized, (at a time much too late to do anything about) that are better off left unopened, especially when they are tucked away in the bottom desk drawer in your married sister's sitting room .

"Alice, what are you doing?"

She slammed the book she'd been perusing shut, face flaming, and looked up at her sister with a guilty expression.

"I was looking for something to read."

Margaret stepped fully into the room, a concerned look upon her face. "And you were looking in my desk because…?" she didn't even mention that Alice had apparently snuck into the her home without even so much as a word to the butler as to what she was doing there.

Neatly stepping around her sister, Alice tried to keep the volume she'd been perusing behind her back, but many years of being alert to any changes to Alice's strange behavior told Margaret that her darling younger sister was hiding something from her.

"Is that my book?"

Alice considered lying for a moment. Knowing that Margaret had read such things while thinking of Lowell was bad enough; having Margaret know that Alice knew that Margaret had been thinking of Lowell while reading such a tome was another thing altogether. She first became aware of it's existence during a rather boring evening at Manchester Hall, when Alice had been forced in a game of whist with Lowell, and Margaret had the good fortune to be able to demurely sit off to the side, book in hand. Alice had watched as her sister's face had alternated between various shades of red and muffled shock, before she'd been unable to contain herself further, and called out over the table, "Margaret, dear, whatever are you reading?"

Lowell had gawhapphed heartily and chuffed her about the elbow (which Alice hated when he did that!) and several others in the room snickered. It seemed Margaret's plain cover had only concealed the material therein from her sister, the one whom, besides her husband, she would be least embarrassed to have know she was reading such a thing.

"It's just a novel." Margaret had hedged, but everyone else's reactions had told Alice just what type of novel it was, and when her scandalization faded, curiosity took root.

She'd managed to make herself forget about the book until that day's Tea, and when the Hatter had insinuated what was to be necessary for matrimony in Underland…well, the book had come to her mind, and it seemed the most likely way of learning more of the act, as it were, without having to speak a word of it to someone. So she'd risen from the table with the single-minded determination to find the book and learn all that she could of what was expected of her.

The only individuals she'd even paused to think of speaking of such things were the Chattaway twins, and frankly, the idea of speaking to them of their bedroom exploits scared her.

She'd hoped to grab the book, flip through it, replace it, and be gone before Margaret (or Lowell) were any the wiser.

Unfortunately, said book was still concealed behind her back, with Margaret staring down at her, and Alice doubted her ability to exit the room and maintain the book's concealment and her dignity, both.

So instead, she faced the situation head on.

"Are all matters of the marriage bed like what's detailed here?"

Margaret looked at her sister very seriously for several quiet moments, then turned and locked the door. When she came back, she motioned for her to sit down.

Alice promptly plonked herself into one of Margaret's ridiculously overstuffed chairs, eyes bright with expectation. She hadn't expected her sister to acquiesce so gracefully to such a query!

"What is the gentleman's name, Alice?" Margaret asked, gently.

Sputtering, Alice simply opened and closed her mouth several times, resembling nothing so much as a landed fish.

Pressing onward, Margaret sighed and said, "Mother doesn't know, does she?" as she sank down into her own chair. The elder sister thought this was rather a safe bet, for if their mother had even the slightest inclination that Alice were interested in any gentleman (suitable or not, Margaret was beginning to think) then Alice would be in the kirk even now, vowing to a lot of rather improbable things.

"No! Well, she suspects. I may have mentioned something about…but she's given no indication that she is certain of it, so please, Meg, don't give her that confirmation!"

The look of distress upon Alice's face was the one she often got when they were children, and she had been particularly naughty, and wished for Margaret to hold her tongue. Seeing that look on her face while preparing to discuss gentlemen's habits in the bedroom unsettled Margaret indeed.

"Alice, please hand me the book." Margaret finally said, and Alice did so, a flush high on her cheeks.

"I can ask Faith and Fiona, I suppose." Alice muttered, causing Margaret to blanch. The stories they'd told her had been bad enough, and she'd been married for a few years now. She couldn't imagine what Alice's reaction to such tales would be, and her completely inexperienced!

Gathering her resolve, Margaret said, "You'll do no such thing, Alice!" Adjusting her skirts around her (which was a nervous habit from childhood that she'd never really outgrown) she said, "I will answer your questions. But first you must answer mine. That sounds reasonable, does it not?"

"I suppose so."

Alice looked to her sister, and bit her lip when she saw Margaret's smile was alarmingly similar to that of the Cheshire Cat right before he would snatch at Tarrant's hat.

"His name."

Blinking innocently, Alice said, "That sounded more like a demand than a question, sister."

Smile widening, Margaret stood back up, book still in hand. "I don't have to answer your questions at all, you know. I can simply take this and…"

"Oh, fine!" Alice said, and Margaret sat down once more. "His name is Tarrant."

"Just Tarrant? Interesting. But we'll go back to that. Occupation? I'm assuming he is employed."

Affronted on the Hatter's behalf, Alice retorted, "Yes, he's employed. He's a milliner, although his specialty are hats."

"A Hatter?' Margaret asked, blanching for the second time in that afternoon (and the day had started so promisingly!). "You are preparing to attach yourself to a Hatter?"

"Honestly, Meg!" Huffing, Alice turned away and looked out the window. "You say Hatter as though he's grinding up men for sausage-meat." Her refined sister grimaced at such a ghastly image, causing Alice to secretly smile.

Straightening her skirts once more, Margaret said, "I should like to think his lack of murderous inclinations is not the only quality you find amiable."

"Oh, it's not!" Alice assured her. "He is kind and gentle and protective and…" as her voice trailed off, Margaret's face softened. Her little sister had grown up and fallen in love, and somehow along the way Margaret had missed it. "He's my best friend." Alice concluded.

Squeezing her hand briefly, Margaret said, "Many marriages have started with less." Her own union with Lowell being one such case, but hers was a bearable match, if nothing else. Many of the girls that came out at the same time she did could not even say that much. She envied Alice in that moment, for being brave enough to marry for love, instead of money, society, or their mother's expectations.

"When can I expect to meet him?" she asked, forcing her thoughts away from her own shortcomings.

"I'm not certain." Alice hedged. "We haven't discussed that with one another yet." Which was technically untrue, as they had briefly touched on the Idea of Hatter visiting the Above soon on a visit, but had delayed doing so out of fear of what, exactly, may happen to him once he set foot on London soil. McTwisp and Absolem had lost their voices; what would the Hatter lose?

"Well, we're sure to have time to get acquainted before the wedding." Alice wisely held her tongue, not saying that she hadn't even considered having a wedding Above, feeling a bit more guilty as she was given the 'It-had-better-happen-as-I-have-just-detailed' look that older sisters are so capable of giving.

"What was it you were wanting to know of him?" Alice asked.

"Oh, where to start!" Margaret began. "First off-where did you meet him?"

Alice gulped. She should have definitely gone to the Chattaways instead of looking for that blasted book!

---

Alice's head was swimming several hours later when she managed to crawl away from Margaret's parlor and find her way back to the Kingsleigh estate. Without a word to her mother or any of the staff, (as was becoming a dreadful habit of hers, she mused, just trouncing about without telling anyone of what she was doing or where she was going!) went straight up to her room.

I expect to see a ring on your finger before any of the things I spoke to you about today are carried out!

What type of person did Margaret believe her to be, honestly?

The type that goes around reading romance novels for advice on men, Alice thought to herself wryly, after running away from her apparent fiancé after he tells her that the marriage rites in his homeland are very basic and very physical.

Margaret had detailed the basic mechanics of the act itself (with many a stuttering blush and horse-stable euphemisms) but had ended all of that seemingly good advice with the caveat, "Of course, every man is different."

Which was singularly unhelpful, for if all men had different preferences when they were sane, what would the expectations be of a madman in the marriage bed?

And she knew, that the next time she stepped through the Glass, the Hatter would be waiting for her. If she didn't approach him, he would not approach her, (especially with the way she'd just up and left the table, which in retrospect made her burn a bit in shame-what he must think of such an action!) but their friendship-their entire relationship-would be so much wreckage.

---

Two more hours was all the longer Alice had been able to wait. Two hours, of imaging the Hatter still sitting at the table, morosely conversing with a cold cup of Tea and doubting the veracity of her feelings for him.

Then she changed her dress, fixed her hair (why did pieces of it always insist on falling down when she attempted to pin it up? Best to just brush it out and leave it loose, then) and pulled on her boots. Taking just enough time to scribble out a note to her mother telling her she'd be out for the evening and passing it on to the butler, she calmed her frayed nerves and stepped through the Glass once more. The last time as just plain Alice Kingsleigh, she thought, oddly nostalgic. If he'll forgive me for just leaving the way I did.

The Hatter was indeed still sitting at the Tea table, but it was worse than she had imagined. Instead of talking to his brew or buttering his pocket-watch, he was simply slumped over, his elbows upon the table (which, in all of his Tea-madness, he never did) and his face in his hands. Night was beginning to fall around him, and the Hatter didn't notice.

"Tarrant?" she said, softly, and he lifted his head, looking up at her. The faintest glimmer of moisture sat in the corners of his eyes, and he dashed them away, hoping Alice hadn't seen them, but of course she had, and they made her feel ever-more awful for leaving the way she had.

"Would you be willing to tell me more of how marriages are carried out, here in Underland?"

A look of such awe and devotion crossed his face that Alice wondered if she'd ever seen anything more radiant.

"I would." he lisped. "I would, I would!"

"This is perhaps not the sort of conversation you should be having at the Tea table?" Both turned to see the White Rabbit at the other end, where he had been sent by Mirana to keep an eye on her friend. Mallymkun and Thackery had gone to Mirana after Alice's departure (and the Hatter's subsequent request that they Leave Him Be, when they'd come round to see him so dejected), very concerned.

McTwisp's nose quivered violently, and he forced himself to take deep breaths to stay upright.

"Perhaps you're right, McTwisp." Tarrant turned to Alice. He raised his eyebrows, and said, in a voice that couldn't hide the traces of nervousness, "Perhaps we should adjourn to a private room, my lady?"

---

Well, you've got her here, you fool. Hatter thought some moments later. Now what?

They'd gone straight up to his rooms within the Castle, bypassing quite a few nosy courtiers and sniggering servants along the way. Alice had blushed the entire journey, but soon forgot to do even that when he'd pulled her inside his chambers and instantly pressed his lips to hers. They stood just inside the door (which, despite Hatter's immediate need for Alice, he'd had the presence of mind to shut), mouths sliding along one another's, until Alice pulled back with a gasp.

"Is it really so simple?" she asked. "As what you told me before?" Everything seemed simpler here in Underland; she was the one complicating things with her Aboveland way of thinking!

"Aye." Hatter confirmed, staring at her swollen lips. "Does there need to be more?"

"No." Alice smiled. "Not at all." She kissed him once again, daring to snake her arms around his back and pull him closer to herself. This time it was Tarrant's turn to pull away first, and Alice rushed to fill the silence with more than their panting.

"What do you do when I leave you? Afterwards, I mean?" she blushed, and the Hatter was enchanted by the color rising in her cheeks. "After I leave, and we've been…kissing, and touching?" Where this particular brand of muchness was coming from, Alice wasn't certain, but it appeared the Hatter was enjoying it very much indeed, if the expression on his face was anything to go by.

"Margaret told me that Lowell had informed her that doing such things without…without the possibility of relief causes…that is, some men may…that all men have different…preferences, for dealing with such situations." Alice finally said, nipping his lip. "Would you show me yours?"

Parts of him leapt to attention at such a suggestion. That Alice would ever ask him to demonstrate such a thing had never occurred to him, not even in his assorted dreams featuring a not-Real-Alice and various condiments. He led her to the bed and sat her down upon it's edge. "Do ye really want to know, Alice. D'ye know what it is you're asking of me?"

"I think I do." she replied. "If you don't want to, then…"

If he didn't want to-!

He leaned over and pressed his lips against hers once again, firmly and swiftly. "I will do whatever it is that you desire." he swore, then stepped back and began unbuttoning himself.

His manhood was pressed painfully tight against his trousers, Alice saw, as he slowly revealed himself. When he bobbed free of the confines, Alice sat forward a bit, unconsciously. This encouraged the Hatter, and he stripped his pants fully from himself before grasping his length in hand and slowly beginning to pump, up and down.

"Ye wanted to know what I do when I think of ye." he said, grunting the words out. "When I'm all alone, after the kissin' and little touches?"

"Hatter, I.."

When she spoke, he began to pump faster, the skin of his manhood slid up to cover his tip when he moved his fist down, and retracted when it came back up, Alice noted.

"Better! Yer voice… than any not-Real Alice." he said. "Keep speakin'."

"What should I say?" she barely knew what to think, let alone what she should say, as this was much more (thrilling-exotic-beautiful!) than Margaret had bothered to describe.

"Anything!" he cried, as his fist worked faster still.

The sight of the Hatter there, so oddly vulnerable yet so virile, caused Alice's Above manners and knowledge of proper-speech to flee, leaving her to say only what she first crossed her mind.

"I believe I like watching you, Hatter." she said, voice husky with a desire she'd only briefly flirted with before.

With a startled little cry, he pumped twice more and released suddenly, splattering the front of her dress.

"It's…it's warm." she said, reaching out with a slightly trembling hand. She touched the release lightly with her fingertips, and he held his breath as she brought those fingertips up to eye level. Head tilted slightly to one side, she rubbed her fingers together, familiarizing herself with the texture.

Licking her lips, Alice then brought those same fingers (the ones coated with him) to her Alice-mouth. Her tongue flicked out, delicately tasting it.

"Alice!" he hissed, and she looked over at him, concern crinkling her brow.

"I'm sorry. Should I…of course I shouldn't!" she said, hastily looking about for a kerchief or corner of the blanket to wipe her hand on, just realizing what exactly it was she was about to do. "I'll just-"

"No!" That one word stopped her. She could feel the wetness on her stomach soaking through her dress, and the combination of that feeling and the tone of the Hatter's voice with that one spoken word caused something low within her to pull tight. "If it pleases you," he said, his eyes swirling to the darkest green she'd ever seen, "continue."

"Hmmm." she hummed, amused and intrigued by the look of naked longing on his face. He wanted her to taste it. Deliberately, she ran her index finger back through the release, and before she had much time to think of what she was doing, put her finger in her mouth and sucked it clean.

It was a bit metallic, with a salty-musky tang, but not off-putting.

"You taste good, Hatter." she said, honestly.

If he hadn't just had his moment, Hatter believed he would have flipped her over and buried himself within her, right then.

"Come here?" she asked, holding her hand out to him.

Tarrant crawled onto the bed, breath shallow. Should she change her mind now, he believed it may just kill him.

"Lay down."

He did so, feeling very much like a specimen on display as her eyes flicked over him, top to bottom. Sparing a moment to be a bit…well, Embarrassed was not the word, as he and Embarrassment were not on speaking terms, but…Apprehensive (yes, that one would do nicely!) as her eyes lingered on his trouser-less bottom half, Hatter quickly overcame such an emotion when she began unbuttoning his waistcoat.

Alice carefully opened the waistcoat and then began loosening his cravat. Once she had it mostly loosened, she pulled his shirt collar free, and she attended to the buttons there. He lay perfectly still as her fingers fumbled briefly towards the bottom (as those buttons were perilously close to that which she was most Unfamiliar with) until she had the shirt open as well.

A myriad of criss-crossing scars decorated his chest, and Alice forced herself not to gasp (as she knew Hatter would not react well to such a thing) as she traced the welts and burns with her fingertips.

"Were these-?"

"From the Knave." he confirmed, sitting up a bit. The Alice had seemed to be reconsidering Touching with Intent at the sight of his scars, and while part of him wanted to be noble and allow her to leave should she so wish, a larger part of him was ready to beg her to stay.

"This wouldn't have happened to you if I'd believed everyone from the beginning!" the blonde whispered.

"Mebbe so, mebbe no." Tarrant agreed, sinking back down into the pillows when he saw she wasn't leaving the bed. (He would have chased her through the halls of Marmoreal, mostly-naked or no!) "But if ye had, ye'd be a different Alice, wouldna ye? And I rather like the one ye are now." He pressed a soft kiss to the edge of her jaw, right underneath her ear.

Determination filled Alice as she returned her gaze to his chest. Shivering as her tentative touching resumed, he didn't fight the gasp of pleased surprise as she found his nipples and brushed her thumbs across them. She made an interested little grunt as they pebbled in reaction to her touch, and so she did this twice more before trailing downwards, petting the small trail of hair that led to parts lower. Shying away from going lower still, she turned her attention back upwards.

Hatter sat up just enough so Alice could slide the remains of his clothing from his shoulders, leaving only the cravat still on his body. Quickly tossing them aside before she could fuss about what to do with them, he laid back down and concentrated on not blathering like a desperate, love-struck idiot as she continued her slow inspection of his body.

He allowed her to explore every inch of him, from the curly hair atop his head (which she gathered great fistfuls of and sniffed as if it were the finest of blooms) to the bottoms of his feet (that she accidentally tickled, which caused him to laugh uproariously; she'd been startled until she knew the source of his amusement) She'd gone back and tickled them again, and he'd continued to laugh until she finally went to that which was most foreign to her.

Wiping away the tears from his eyes, he saw Alice eying his length with equal parts fascination and concern. It stole the laughter right out of his throat, and placed Desire there instead, thick on the back of his tongue. Her brown eyes boldly met his, and she asked, with her hand already outstretched towards him, "May I?"

He could feel himself straining towards her (as much as was possible while he forced himself to stay flat against the bed) as he laughed again, shakily, and said, "If ye dinna, I dinna know that I'd be easily forgiv'n ye!"

Grasping him awkwardly, Alice was surprised at how soft the skin of this part of him was, yet firm. Pulling like she'd watched the Hatter do to himself, she stroked him a few times until he groaned like she'd shot him. The flesh in her hand twitched and grew, and Alice released him in alarm. She didn't remember it doing that when he…but then, it'd already been quite large before he'd started, and…

"Did I hurt you?' she asked, anxious. There were too many things that Margaret hadn't told her! She should have just asked the Chattaways, she fretted once again; they'd have murdered someone to know why she was asking of such things, but their answers to her questions would have been much more blunt.

"Nay!" he panted. "Twas pleasure, laddie."

"But when you…you didn't make a sound like that, when you…"

"Better," he forced out, staring at her, "when ye touch me."

Embarrassment flushed her face, and she was silent for a moment, the only sounds in the room the Hatter's harsh breaths as he attempted to calm himself.

"Would I feel that way? If you were to touch me, I mean?"

Alice was asking him to-!

It was more than Tarrant had ever thought possible, (even though he'd certainly Imagined such a thing, in the privacy of his rooms late at night) especially since that horrid day in the garden, the one where she'd called him-well, that was a Title best left in the past, wasn't it? Especially if she was willing, if she was asking him to…and now, she was here, in his bed, giving herself to him as his-no, he wouldn't even think the word until it was time to speak it. He didn't want Fate (which had always been rather unkind to him) to hear him and decide to interrupt this moment.

"One way to find out, aye?" he said. Ignoring his throbbing erection (which was not easy to do) he motioned for Alice to turn her back to him. He made much shorter work of her buttons than she had of his; he had her turned back about, the dress peeled off, her chemise across the room, and her pantaloons about her ankles in the span of a minute.

She sat there, stunned for a beat, and he allowed her just enough Time to gather her breath before swooping in and kissing her hungrily. It felt to Alice as if he was trying to crawl inside of her mouth with his own, and she whimpered as she felt one of his hands cup her breast while the other fondled her backside. We are both here, naked, together! Alice thought, (slightly scandalized at the notion, despite nakedness being rather necessary for what she was asking of the Hatter) pulling back from his kiss.

"Dinna think so much." Tarrant scolded, (for he was able to tell Alice was thinking those oddly-logical-Alice-thoughts, which might convince her that she didn't want to be Doing These Things, and that would not do at all!) nuzzling his nose against her chin. "Now it is your turn to lay back, aye?" He would make this enjoyable for her. Mad he may be, but a ravening beast he was not. He could control himself long enough to show her that their life together could be full of many pleasures, and not only those of the Tea drinking variety.

Tracing his hands down her body worshipfully, Hatter took note of what spots made Alice shiver, which made her quiver, and which made her involuntarily cry out when he touched them. (He made an especial note to pay extra attention to the crooks of her elbows, even outside of bedroom activities. Perhaps a small pinch or slight pressure from his fingertips would have her thinking of these sorts of things during regular, company filled hours? Mayhap it was Bad to want her body to flame for him in the presence of others, but he felt he wanted to return the favor to her, to cause in her what she had in him so many times, without even knowing.)

"Hatter…" Alice pleaded, when he finally (finally!) allowed himself to rub her lower stomach, mouth watering at the Idea that should he stray just a few centimeters lower, part of him would be inside of her.

"Soon!" he said to her impatience (and his wee laddie being Impatient in this type of situation made him Happy indeed! Cessation of Thought had occurred, then, and Logic had been replaced by Pleasure, which was very good, as Logic had no place in a marriage bed!). She arched towards him needily, and then his own patience was gone.

He slipped a thimbled finger inside of her, enjoying her shaky little inhalation of breath almost as much as the sensation of his digit being swallowed by her heat. He withdrew it a little bit just to sink it back in, deeper this time, and she keened. Her hips rose so her soft mound pressed flush against his palm. Who was he to deny such passion?

He rolled her over onto her back, causing her hair to scatter haphazardly across the plain sheets. Leaning over her, his lips murmured bits of nonsense; he was afraid the words were making even less sense than usual, but was unable to stop their flow. He slowly inserted another finger, and she bucked wildly, skin flushing as she broke out in a sweat. He had to use his other hand to pin her down as she wriggled and gasped.

"Too…small!" she gasped.

"What is?" he felt himself ask, his voice the deepest he'd ever heard it without the brogue.

"My skin!" she nearly shouted, and he jerked away from her a bit, the ear that had been closest to her mouth ringing. "My…skin…" she repeated with a mewl, and he decided he forgave her for shouting. "I feel…it…will burst!"

"Perhaps it would be for the best if I stopped, then." he teased. "I would hate to be responsible for such a reprehensible thing!"

Snake-strike quick, her hand grasped the ascot still dangling around his neck. "Don't you dare." she hissed through clenched teeth.

His answer was delivered to her by the burning intensity of his eyes and the flicking of his thumb over her little nub, and she hastily released her grip from the tie as she thrashed about more.

"Hatter…Hatter, please!" Who would have thought that such a simple touch could bring her these strong feelings?

Chuckling in purely masculine pride, he scissored his fingers within her, thoroughly enjoying the sight of her eyes rolling up into her head as she desperately dug her hands into the mattress. "Please what, Alice?"

"I…I don't know!" she claimed, eyes scrunching shut tightly. That wouldn't do at all, Hatter mused, withdrawing his fingers from inside of her, and cupped her face with both of his hands. He winced a bit as the tip of his right hand index finger throbbed as it connected with her cheek; he had stuck it rather spectacularly earlier that day with the pointed end of a pair of scissors. He stilled as all the words he had been intending to speak to Alice, of reassurances and comfort, and yes, he could admit to himself, desire-fled his Mind faster than the Griffin when avoiding the Mock Turtle.

He looked at the first two bare fingers of his right hand, the very fingers that moments before had been pleasuring the Alice (and didn't that sound grand!), still slick with her moisture. That was all well and good (very good, Hatter amended to himself) but there was one small problem that he a-spyed while staring at his digits.

That being that they were the first two bare fingers, and he was fairly certain that had not been the case before he had begun…yes, he was nearly completely sure that he had capped that injured index finger with a thimble after sticking it, as he hadn't a bandage immediately at hand, and not the heart to wrap his small injury in the expensive spider-silk he'd been crafting with.

Alice's eyes had opened during the Hatter's concerned pause, and she looked up at him with trusting eyes and half-parted lips.

Stuttering, Hatter began, "Now, Alice…I don't…wish to alarm you, but…"

Alice immediately went still, ardor quickly fleeing her body. She hated it when Hatter prefaced any statement with I don't wish to alarm you, because that meant most assuredly that whatever-it-was that he was preparing to say would be at the very best mildly alarming, with the possibility of being catastrophically life-threatening. (As the last time he had started a sentence with that particular phrase, there had been a feral Bandersnatch cub stalking up right behind her, preparing to pounce. They'd only gotten out of that situation by Luck's grace.)

It was, to say the least, not the words she wanted to hear while participating in activities of the bedroom variety.

Her eyes were wide as she stared at the Hatter, breath held in worried anticipation of his next words. Was she…wrong, somehow, down there?

"It is…it seems to be that…that is…"

The suspense was nearly as bad for Alice the prefatory statement. When Hatter finally did force the words out, a strained smile was barely holding up the corners of his mouth, and his voice shook with inappropriately nervous giggles.

"I seem to have lost my thimble."

He was worried about that now? Had been Alice's first thought, until the implications of that seemingly innocuous statement filtered to an understandable level within her brain.

Hatter hadn't thought that Alice's eyes could have gotten any wider than they had been, but as his admission sank in, they nearly doubled in size. Had the circumstances been any different, Hatter would have been nearly beside himself with laughter (and wouldn't that be a neat trick? He would very much like to see himself beside himself, if only for the novelty of such a thing!) but as it was, he very much did not want Alice to panic. This was her first experience with things of the bedroom variety, and he did not want for her to think to object to further explorations…

The young woman sat nearly bolt upright in the bed, (and away from him) clutching the blanket up to right underneath her chin. "You lost your thimble?" she fairly screeched. "Can't you retrieve it?"

Sighing, (as this was exactly the type of reaction he hadn't wanted Alice to have…she'd never be so inclined as to seek him out for this type of Activity ever again, and he would want, no, need Alice now that he'd been given the barest taste of her) Hatter said, "Not while you have that blanket up to your chin, laddie. Please…" he reached for her, and she jerked away from his touch. Hatter felt his stomach drop out from underneath him at this action, and he pleaded with her, "Alice, I can get it. Please…just lay back."

"Do you promise?" she asked, the Idea of the thimble being lost there clearly more than her muchness could handle.

"Aye." He kissed the juncture where her shoulder met her neck. "Just relax, Alice."

She lay back and closed her eyes, waiting expectantly.

Carefully parting her legs, watching her face for any signs of Distress as he did so, (which also had No Place in their bed-and oh, how wonderful that sounded, their bed!-but seemed to want to make itself comfortable there anyways) Hatter knelt between her knees. Seeing no signs of the Unwanted Distress present, he spread her legs further apart. The fingers that had just previously been pleasuring her with gently probed her swollen, (oh so gloriously wonderfully acceptingly) wet flesh. His other hand rubbed soothing circles on the side of her hip.

"There." he said after a moment. He withdrew the thimble and tossed it over his shoulder. "Gone."

Hatter looked down to Alice, at her flushed skin, parted lips, and slightly trembling body, and had to remind himself once again that this was Real.

"Tell me if ye dinna want this, Alice." he breathed, leaning to her. "Tell me if ye dinna want me. For if I stay here a moment longer, I willna be able to stop. But if ye say nay, no more, right now, I'll rise and leave ye be, never to speak of this again. I willna force ye. I love ye too much."

He said the words. He said the words! Never had he been able to force that admission past his lips, and he did it now, while they were in bed? Alice was sure to not believe him, she was certain to think he was just a slurvish male saying what needed to be said to close that final distance between them, she would…she would…could he dare to hope she might say it back?

She didn't answer, but grasped his abused cravat (somehow he was still wearing that blasted scrap of fabric!) and pulled him down to her once again, kissing him thoroughly.

Breaking away from her mouth with a small wet sound, Tarrant trailed kisses down the side of her neck. He could feel the soft rumble of laughter involuntarily come from within her as his hair tickled her chin and neck, and smiled against her skin.

"You're mine, Alice." he insisted, fighting the disappointment he felt at her not saying those words back to him. It was enough that she was here, and that she wasn't leaving, he told himself. He would be content with what she was willing to give him.

"Yours." she agreed, as he lifted her right leg at the knee. Such a beautiful one-word statement from her Alice-lips caused him to shudder, and then her hands were on him once more, and together they guided him to her, and then-

"Alice!" he cried, sliding past the last barrier between them. "Wife." he said, tears forming behind his eyes. This was it; all that was needed now was for her to reciprocate.

"Tarrant." she sighed, (and wasn't that a relief, as he'd been Afraid for several moments that she'd call him 'Hatter', and that wouldn't do at all, for although that was often used as a Name for himself, it wasn't his right-Proper name, and he wasn't sure if their Union would be Recognized if that was used in this Situation) "Husband."

And then they were both lost in the sensations of fully discovering one another, a flurry of hands and teeth and tongue altogether fluttering and scraping and thrusting.

Alice dug her nails into the Hatter's back to the point where it was almost painful for her to maintain the grip; she couldn't imagine it felt pleasant for him, but he seemed not to mind at all.

"More, Alice!" he actually pressed, and she obligingly dug in harder. Unexpectedly Alice spasmed around him and fell into a blindingly powerful climax. A few more thrusts into her still-writhing body and Tarrant followed her. Both lay still for several long moments afterwards, bodies twitching in reaction.

Then Hatter rolled off of Alice, and pulled her close against him. "Thank ye, wife." he said against her hair, and she snorted sleepily.

"Are you going to thank me every time, husband?" she murmured, snuggling against him.

Every time suggested future occasions of Touching with Intent. Tarrant was thrilled, but drifting too close to slumber to actually work up to being Smug. He had so hoped she'd like it!

"If you allow, lad, I believe I will thank you every day for the rest of our lives."