A.N: This is my first Alice in Wonderland fic, so I'm still feeling my way around the characters, so to speak. I got the idea from a poem (the one Tarrant sings) that Lewis Carroll ended up basing one of his poems on for Alice in Wonderland. Thought it fit rather well :) Enjoy!

Disclaimer: Don't own anything, it all belongs to Lewis Carroll and the wonderful Tim Burton.

"He's doing it again."

"Be more specific, Mallymkun, Tarrant does many things, none of which I care much about to notice on a regular basis."

"Chessur." The dormouse growls low in her throat, paw automatically at the hilt of her sword, not that it will do much good towards a creature who can disappear on a whim. "You know what I mean. It."

The cat's grin fades, though the brightness of his eyes never do, gazing over to the man who sits at the head of a long table, alone save for his own, half-mad wonderings.

"Ah, yes." He comprehends, swishing his tail in a way that could be interpreted as sorrowful, were cats able to swish their tails in a sorrowful way. "I understand."

Mallymkun sighs, rubbing a paw over her face and relaxes her posture, dropping down to dangle her hind-legs over the edge of the table. In the background, the Hatter laughs, taking a sip out of his tea-cup, void of tea, and therefore only a cup.

"It is quiet without Thackery." He announces to no-one in particular, and the pair turn their heads quickly to their friend. "It is quiet...without..."

He trails off, mumbling nonsensical Outlandish under his breath. Mally turns back to the Cheshire Cat with an exasperated expression.

"Do something!? I'm at my wits end here. I try and do the best I can, but I'm not the one he needs, Chess, even though I wish that wasn't true, I – "

"You don't have to tell me twice," Chessur answers, looking rather bored with the conversation. His head twists round until those big, green eyes are blinking at her from upside down. "We all know he hasn't been the same since Alice lef –"

"Ssh!"

But it's enough. Tarrant's eyes finally come to focus on the two of them, bright amber-gold. "Alice, did you say? She is rather late for tea, isn't she? Naughty."

"You slurking urpal slackush scrum!" This time, Mally really does reach for her sword, jabbing at Chessur's tail with the point. He merely smiles and fades, reappearing on a chair some distance behind her.

"Yet loved I as man never loved, a love without decay. Oh, my heart, my heart is breaking for the love of Alice Gray..." Tarrant sings quietly, unaware of the heated exchange. He sighs heavily, his bow-tie now a mottled yellow. To those watching, it is as if his clothes are wilting, like flowers deprived of much needed water. Or, in this case, a Hatter deprived of his much needed Alice.

"Naught for usal, Mallymkun," Chess informs her, "He won't be the same until..." He is more cautious this time, turning his head at a right angle to espy the Hatter, "she gets back."

The dormouse harrumphs, kicking at a loose sugar cube and watching it bounce across the table. "And when, do you mind telling me, will that be? The whole of Underland is giring and gimbling and I'm here waiting for a girl who was late the first two times she arrived, and was very almost not the right Alice for the job."

"You don't have to wait, my dear Mally, that is a job for Hightopp there." Chessur purrs, eyes glinting in her direction, "And besides, the Oraculum has foretold her return. It will not be long."

"Well, why didn't you tell me that! Honestly, I'm the last one to know about anything around here. Do you know how difficult it is conversing with a lunatic who hardly realises I'm here? Who's pining over someone when you very well know how I feel about him? Who – "

"Mally," The cat has appeared beside her, effectively cutting off her speech with his tail winding around her mouth. "It is today."

He whirls her around so they're both facing the edge of the wood. It feels as though history is repeating itself for a third time, and the dormouse finds herself pondering on how many more times she's going to see Alice step cautiously into the clearing, looking older with each appearance.

She moves so quietly and so daintily that the Hatter seated atop the table does not register her appearance. Not that he's registering much in the way of anything, as he's busy reciting the words of 'How doth the little crocodile' under his breath. He gets to the phrase 'golden scale' when Alice seats herself down on the chair to his left, looking expectedly at him and clearing her throat.

"Tarrant? I'm awfully sorry I'm late. There were a lack of rabbit holes in China for me to fall into. I'm here now though and, I hope you don't mind, but I thought I might stay."

Alice smiles impishly as her words finally reach the Hatter's ears. His eyes have a greenish hue to them as they focus in on her, a slow smile that Mally has not seen since the Frabjous Day beginning to form on his face. She starts to feel as though she's intruding on a rather private moment, but cannot bear to make herself look away. Unusually, Chessur can, and he ushers her away from the long stares the two at the table are giving each other, the proper etiquette for this kind of a reunion.

"My dear Alice," Tarrant exclaims, "You're just in time. I was about to ask the question: why is a raven like a writing desk?"

The young woman laughs, shaking her head. "You've asked me this before, and I still haven't the foggiest idea."

"Neither do I." Grins the Hatter, his clothes now a marvellous deep purple. He leans over and grasps one of Alice's petite hands firmly in his. "And on the matter of staying: I would be delighted if you did."