Disclaimer: Woefully rightless.

Summary: Riddle me this, riddle me that - and why you can always trust a Hatter to be untrustworthy. This chapter was prompted by - mysteries of mysteries - the word: riddle.

"Hatter!" Alice called out from the other room, startling the man in question enough to jolt him out of his very pleasantly warm afternoon nap with a sharp stab of panic. With a furtive glance towards the curtains to make sure they hadn't caught fire spontaneously again, Hatter looked up to the noise of quickly padding feet.

He had been living in Alice's world for a little over three months now, and had learned fairly early on in the game that, when Alice called him like that, he was very likely to get in deep trouble. For the first few weeks, there had been many a time when Alice had screamed out his name (and not always in the happy, ecstatic way that he liked so very much.) No, usually when Alice cried his name like that, Hatter had accidentally left the stove on, or had accidentally tried to pay the pizza man with bags of tea, or accidentally tried to make coffee in the blender or very accidentally replaced all of Alice's sensible underthings with those of a more sheer, silky variety. (Extremely on accident, that last one. Except for the ones with the little tea cup prints, those she had liked.)

Yet when Alice rounded the bend with all the tender gracelessness of a rampant meerkat, Hatter relaxed back into the cushions with relief. He couldn't have done anything if she was that excited. Now he puzzled as he tried to work out what exactly he might have done right – besides being his wonderfully debonair self, he thought as he cracked the toes of his bare feet, watching as Alice tumbled to his side. Her hands clutched a familiar book tight in front of her chest, and between her splayed pale fingers Hatter could just catch the title. He smiled. The Adventures of Alice in Wonderland – again?

A wash of nonsensical smugness swelled up within Hatter – ridiculous considering she wasn't actually reading about him. (He'd read the book himself, and had been extremely…bemused at Carroll's deplorable portrayal of the Hatting Tea business. No resemblance to him there, at all.) Tipping the brim of his hat back enough to better see her face, Hatter grinned. "What happened to getting all of your assigned papers out of the way, then?"

Alice shrugged. "I took a break," she explained self-importantly. "It's good for you – gets your creative juices flowing and all that." Hatter rose his eyebrows with interest, but before he could open his mouth to offer – quite selflessly – ulterior ways in which to get Alice flowing, she plopped down onto her knees next to his chair. "Anyway," she said. "I was reading, and I realized something!"

"What's that?"

She bounced lightly on her feet. "Oh, this is so cool!'

Hatter smiled indulgently. "Yes, I'm practically giddy with excitement myself. Care to tell me why?"

Alice sighed, extending and showing the page she had left off on. "Here," she said, pointing, adopting the voice that Hatter had aptly christened her 'teaching voice'. He liked it. "When Lewis Carroll wrote Wonderland, he had the Mad Hatter," she nodded her head at him meaningfully. Hatter scoffed. "Recite a bunch of nonsense and things. Carroll actually made up a riddle, and it's become very popular, because everybody keeps trying to find out the answer."

Hatter nodded. "I see. Fascinating bit that was there." He reached over the cushion and heaved Alice over it and onto his lap with a grunt. "Now," he said, settling her comfortably. "Have I told you yet today how unbearably – "

"Wait, wait," Alice said impatiently, swatting at his hands where they curled on her hips, thumbs lightly circling. "The cool part is that nobody really knows the actual answer. But you, you are the Hatter!" He opened his mouth to protest, and Alice rolled her eyes. "Except with a nicer hat, a smaller nose, and a better sense of fashion and poise." She recited dryly.

"You forgot a sultrier and all-around more attractive air," Hatter mumbled petulantly.

"Falls under 'poise'," she said while tossing her head dismissively. "But don't you see? If things like the Oyster-Carpenter-Walrus thing, and the Tweedles, and the entire card-kingdom are real, then maybe this riddle is real too! And if it is, then you would be just the type to know it, for sure."

Hatter grinned rakishly and tipped his head back against the chair, looking down at Alice through arrogantly half-lidded eyes. "Well, they don't call me The Man Who Knows for nothin'. Lay it on me."

Alice twinkled her pretty blue eyes at him, smiling with the smug assurance of one who is about to get just what they want. "When," she said. "Is a raven…like a writing desk?"

Hatter exhaled thoughtfully and brought his hands up to fold over her shoulders, casually walking the fingers across her back to lace behind her neck. With a very important – and decisive – pause, he met her eyes and said soundly.

"On Saturdays."

Alice stared.

Hatter smirked.

"Really?"

"Yes."

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why on Saturday?"

"Because it's much too busy any other time of the week, the poor old biddy."

Alice didn't quite frown, but she did tilt her head and look suspiciously at her boyfriend. While she'd come to accept that Wonderland logic was convoluted at the best of times and downright weird at others, she knew Hatter enough to be wary. He was, afterall, a con-man, and he looked much too pleased with himself.

"You don't believe me?" Hatter gasped theatrically when Alice considered for a moment before shaking her head in the negative. "Now hold on, I thought you said you trusted me!"

Alice pursed her lips together with exasperation. "I do trust you – I trust you to be just as mischievous as you always are – and I trust you to take advantage of any situation that you can." She waggled her finger in front of his nose. "I still haven't forgotten that time you told me that the first Friday of every month was considered a holy day in Wonderland, and you couldn't go to work for religious reasons."

Hatter chuckled proudly.

"Or the time that you set the curtains on fire."

"Accidentally!"

"Whatever. The point is, I wouldn't put it past you to try and pull the wool over my eyes, just for fun."

"I do believe that the time has come for us to talk of other things," Hatter said lowly, nimbly prying the book from between Alice's fingers and leading her now-empty hands up to cup his neck.

"Don't try to change to subject, Hatter," Alice protested with mock severity, shifting closer with a smile.

"Wouldn't dream of it, love," the Hatter returned his hands to their favorite place on Alice. "In fact, I'm feeling so candid with you right now, I think I should share another fun little tidbit about Wonderland."

"Oh?" Alice said dryly, leaning down to kiss Hatter's nose.

"Today, my dear Oyster, is Wednesday – and there's a time-honored tradition in Wonderland stating quite clearly that Wednesdays are Clothing-Optional days."

"Really?"

"Oh yes."

"Hmmm…." Alice hummed as her fingers toyed with the small hairs at the nape of his neck. Hatter shuddered.

"Oh wait, scratch that. Those are Tuesdays. Wednesdays are Clothing-Free. It's extremely mandatory."

"So very, very trustworthy," Alice whispered affectionately.

Hatter agreed.

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