Oh, God.

Oh, God. Why had she said that?

It wasn't that she hadn't already been thinking it, because she had been, but...

Oh, God!

"Alice...?" Tarrant said, voice trembling querulously.

"Sir Hamish, let us away from the table, shall we? Mally? Thackery?" the White Queen's voice was like a distant dream to Alice, as she continued to coax all away to give her and Tarrant a bit of privacy. She'd appreciate it more later, Alice knew, but right then her only concern was Tarrant, the expression on his face, and the look in his eyes.

"I wanted to tell you. Today. Before...everything...happened." Alice said, capturing her lower lip with her teeth. "I wanted to, but had no idea how to even broach such a subject, and...well, I'd thought that you'd not be too terribly off-put by the idea, because of last night."

"Off-put?" Tarrant said, as if it were the most ridiculous concept in the world. "I thought you felt that way about me, lass, with your reaction when..."

"Yes, well. I've never...and I was a bit frightened. I had just gotten confirmation that we were married."

"Never?" Tarrant asked, his unfocused gaze narrowing in on her lips.

"No," Alice admitted, the trace of shame in her voice audible even to herself. Forcing herself to meet his eyes, (She would not shrink away now! Where was her muchness?) she said, "But I would like to. With you. That is...I think I should very much like it if you kissed me."

Instead of the reaction she'd hoped for, Tarrant actually drew away from her, a frown creasing his brow. His extravagant eyebrows pulled down, and he quavered, "I don't want our first kiss to be a kiss goodbye, Alice."

"If you kiss me now, then it won't be. It will be an until-later kiss." She held her breath, waiting for the Hatter's reaction.

"With logic like that," he said slowly, "how can I refuse?" In the very same chair as the night previous, in nearly the very same position, he leaned forward, mouth slightly open. His eyes were fixed on Alice's as she leaned forward and met him.

He tasted fresh and warm, like just-picked herbal leaves and fall cider and melted butter. Alice dissolved into him, into the sensation of another's mouth moving slowly, carefully against hers. Hands reached up and threaded themselves in her hair, pulled her closer. His nose nuzzled against hers, breath tickling her, and she gasped appreciatively against his mouth. Tarrant took this opportunity to deepen the kiss, nudged his tongue forward, pressed himself closer still. Alice accepted him, hesitantly gliding her tongue along his, heat flooding her lower belly as she realized that parts of each of them were inside the other. She pulled away, it all becoming too much, too soon; if she stayed as they were, she would damn the consequences and allow this new feeling flowing through her body to decide her actions. He whimpered as they pulled apart, but did not fight her, did not struggle to stay as close as they had been.

"I'll return, Tarrant," she panted.

"I know you will, my Alice." Tarrant leaned his forehead against hers. "I could go with you."

"I don't think that's a good idea this time," Alice said. "The only knowledge my mother has of you was when you came to take me away, remember? Not exactly the most rousing of endorsements. I also...will need to prepare her. As to the knowledge of our..."

"You seem unusually accepting of our Bond, Alice," Tarrant said. "Not that I'm complaining, mind, but I expected more..."

"Anger? Bitterness? I've suspected we were wed from the first night you brought me back to Underland, Hatta." At his surprised and perplexed expression, Alice laughed. "At first, I will admit, it wasn't something I seriously entertained. I saw the ring on my finger and thought that perhaps you'd eloped with me, but then when you acted so distant, that possibility left my mind. Different things have tickled that fancy at the back of my brain, though, and I was never able to fully dismiss the notion that perhaps we were...connected. And the more I thought on it...the more I realized that I didn't mind the idea."

"You don't?" Tarrant asked, eyes glowing, deep green and fathomless.

"Not in the slightest."

The Hatter grinned, his tie fluffing so that the corners nearly touched his cheeks.

Alice grinned in return. "I'm not saying I realized that all at once, mind. And I am still decidedly ambivalent at the idea that we were brought together beyond our own will. But if I am to be Bound to any man, Aboveground or in Underland...I am glad that man is you, Tarrant Hightopp. And I will come back to you."

"Just as soon as you answer your questions you have to answer and finish those things you have to do."

"Exactly. It will not take me so long this time, I swear it."

Something akin to guilt tightened his jaw, and Tarrant lowered his face, turning slightly away from Alice as he reached into his jacket. He extracted a familiar-looking vial, and handed it to her.

"Hatter, is this-?"

"Aye," he confirmed.

The Blood of the Jabberwock, Alice heard Mirana say in her memory. It would take her home, if that was what she wished.

"But how?"

Seeing that she was not angry with him, Tarrant smiled gently, his shoulders relaxing as he reached out and stroked her arm with his fingertips.

"The Jabberwock's head was an obscenely large thing, if you recall, Alice. Plenty of blood within it to be harvested. The Queen would not let such a resource go to waste."

"And you've had it with you this whole time."

"No," he shook his head, seemingly distressed at the idea that Alice believed he'd always held the key to returning her to London. "The Queen brought it to me today. Nivens took a note to her very early this morning with my request for both it and her presence at tea; after last night, I was certain that you'd no wish to be in my presence, and I thought that if I had the Blood...then you could return to London without having to wait a single moment longer. I also requested that a room be prepared for you in Marmoreal for when you needed to return, so you would not be subjected to me and my...unwanted affection."

Softly, Alice felt the corners of her mouth turn up in a smile. "I do not think that room in Marmoreal will be necessary, Hatta," she said. "That is, if you do not mind company here at Windmill House." While he stuttered incoherently and blinked in shock, Alice quickly kissed his cheek, and then stood.

"Alice?" he was finally able to manage calling out, as she turned to go to Hamish, who was standing by the doorway of the House, watching Alice and Tarrant with a forlorn expression on his face. While she felt badly for causing him pain, she could not deny what—or whom—was in her heart...and it wasn't Hamish.

"Yes, Hatter?"

"I love you, too."

Phfffffaw!

Hamish sat bolt upright, sputtering as his forehead banged painfully against a hard surface. Both he and the surface gave a sound of pain, but after having been in Alice's Wonderland for several days, this neither surprised nor alarmed him.

"Hamish!"

Blinking eyes that teared from pain, Hamish spluttered, "Mrs. Kingsleigh!"

"Oh, Hamish!" Helen scolded crossly, and when his eyes cleared, it was to see Mrs. Kingsleigh's severe frown as she held her own forehead. So that had been the surface he'd banged against!

He must have looked either upset or peaked, because Helen quickly became contrite, and said, "Please forgive me. You must still be ill from—this is mad, perfectly and absolutely mad! I don't know what has come over me as of late, with first allowing Alice to be taken, and then that business with the orphanage, and then you with the...and now I'm crashing into you! Why, I never saw you in this hall at all! My only indication that you were present was when I smashed right into you!"

"I've brought her home! Mrs. Kingsleigh! She's here! Alice is here!" In his determination to be heard, Hamish did not care if he was interrupting a very interesting (and seldom heard) apology from an elder. Alice's mother needed to know that she was home, as soon as possible.

"What did you say?"

"Alice is here, Mrs. Kingsleigh. I've brought her back home." While technically Alice had brought herself home, Hamish chose to ignore this fact. She would not have received her magic travel potion if he had not gone to get her when he did, would she? So it was not a complete lie; he was still somewhat of a hero, wasn't he?

Gathering him tight in a bone-grinding hug, Helen demanded, "Oh, Hamish! Where is she?"

"Where she was taken from...said that's how it worked...last time," Hamish choked out.

Releasing him abruptly, Helen pushed past the sputtering young man and was gone, just that quickly.

"Oh, the rewards of the conquering hero. Hear the adulation as it is shouted from on high," he wheezed, and then went to follow her. The following, though, was put on hold as he found that he was in his nightshirt again (or would that be still? This whole between-worlds business was very confusing!). Taking the time to change would have the double advantage of him not greeting Alice in his nightshirt, as well as giving the two Kingsleigh women a few moments alone. So that, he decided with a nod, would be what he would do.

"Alice? Alice!"

Helen rushed through the hall, down the stairs, and threw herself into her daughter's waiting arms. "Oh, Alice...my darling girl," she sobbed. "Can you ever forgive me for such high-handed foolishness as what put you into this predicament?"

"Mother...mother, please, I can't breathe..."

Releasing her just as suddenly as she'd embraced her, Helen smiled, abashed, but then gripped her daughter's face in both hands, staring at her in open-mouthed disbelief. "Alice, you're practically glowing! Why, you look the very picture of health! Oh, damn that beast for telling me you needed to be there longer! And damn me for a fool for believing him! Oh, my sweet girl..." she began again, gathering her close for a hug.

A creak on the stairwell signaled Hamish's arrival, and Helen turned towards him. "And here is your hero, Alice! Hamish, come closer." Grasping him by the arm as soon as he drew close enough, Helen said, "Now, I'm sure that Hamish is going to want a private audience with you, Alice, and I will grant him one, but right at this moment I just want to see you. Oh, when I got those letters, I honestly didn't know what to think! You seemed almost happy to be there, what with how cheerfully you penned them...but I knew it to be a lie of the whitest kind, the most well-intentioned sort!"

"Mrs. Kingsleigh," Hamish came down the stairs, clearing his throat as he once again interrupted her. When she ignored him in favor of fussing further over her daughter, he cleared his throat louder and tried again. "Mrs. Kingsleigh!"

"What is is, Hamish?" Helen asked, too full of joy and goodwill to deny him attention any longer, or truly resent him for the interruption.

"I do not believe a private audience with Miss Kingsleigh will be necessary," he said, blue eyes very sad in his bulldog face. He reached out and grasped one of Alice's hands, while Helen looked down and gaped at the stacked gold ring on a very important finger of her left hand. "You are not miserable with him, I do not think?" he asked. "If you can not bear him, I will find a way to permanently free you, Alice, and you need never go back to him again. I will speak with your Queen, I will make a bargain..."

"No, Hamish..." Alice assured him, and with those words, Helen knew Hamish had been too late. Years too late, if her suspicions held true. "I'm not unhappy with him. Far from it."

Then her daughter turned to her, and all the joy Helen had been feeling moments before drained away, to be replaced by apprehension. "This is only a reprieve, mother, in order for me to get my affairs in order here. I must go back. And...I want to. Go back, that is."

"Alice, we'll go to a priest, he'll be able to help us. That creature—"

"Is named Tarrant. And he's my husband, mother. I will thank you to never refer to him in such terms again."

"What have they done to you, Alice? You didn't want to go at all, before, and now-!"

"They've done nothing, mother, except allow me to be myself. You know that I've never quite fit with London or the English life. I'm too outspoken, too fanciful, too..."

Utterly defeated, Helen said, "Foreign. Otherwordly." She sniffed, wiped her nose with the back of her hand, and said, "When will you be going back?"

"Tomorrow," Alice replied.

"So soon?" Helen whispered.

"We'll have the night, mother. You can tell me all of your adventures while I've been gone, as Hamish has told me you've at least the one to relate—something about a home for boys?-and I shall tell you mine...all of mine. And in the morning, I'll drink my elixir and return to Underland, and you will be happy knowing that I am married to a man I love more than this life itself. We will write each other long letters, and I will come to visit you often."

And so it was. Hamish declared his intent to sleep straight through until the morning, and after enjoying a light dinner with both women, went upstairs to do just that. Alice and Helen had stayed up the entire night, telling each other stories. Helen spoke of her spontaneous urge to champion Mr. Long's orphanage, and her surprise when one boy in particular worked his way into her heart to the point where she'd decided, (much to Society's shock and flutterings) to not only introduce him to Lord Ascot in hopes of getting him involved in trade, but opening her home to him as well. Alice had delightedly asked what her new brother's name was, a response that had Helen reaching for her handkerchief, and hoping aloud that Margaret would be even half as accepting as her sister.

Alice said all the things that she'd been too afraid to pen in her letter, about how Tarrant made her feel, about the joy she felt simply waking in his arms (to which Helen had tutted in shock, but reluctantly smiled when Alice reminded her that she had been married to the man long enough that any sense of propriety could not possibly be compromised) and the laughter he incited within her, laughter so pure and lengthy that when it was done her cheeks hurt and her sides ached. Alice spoke of how she wished for those laughter-aches to be soothed away by kisses and warm hands in her hair, to which Helen blushed and informed her daughter she didn't need to know all of her new life...just that she would be happy.

When Hamish clambered down the stairs after dawn, grousing irritably that he'd "not had a wink of sleep!" and that he thought since he was "awake anyways, I might as well come down and say good-bye." Alice knew it was time for her to leave. She asked her mother if she wanted to watch her drink the potion, but Helen declined.

"Just go," she said, rising to leave the room, gesturing for Hamish to follow her out. "Before I change my mind and beg you to stay with a lonely old woman, just because."

So Alice went.

"Alice! Would you…come in? I am sorry that I didn't hear you knocking at first, but I was in the middle of a project, you see, and because I had not expected you to return for many more days, I'd not informed my ears that they should be listening for anything other than suggestions from the fabric, and the door handle is a bit cross with me for slamming the door shut a few days past, and..."

Tarrant trailed off as he stepped aside, holding the door open just wide enough that she could pass through. The warmth of candlelight in the house beyond was her first indication that night had fallen in Underland; she hadn't noticed.

"You sound surprised to see me," Alice said, making no move to pass Tarrant and enter the house. Her palms were sweating on the inside of her gloves.

"Alice surprises are the best sort," he said, nervously shuffling on his feet. Shy green eyes peeked out at her through the fringe of his lashes. It seemed he didn't know what else to say to her, for he lapsed into silence. Or perhaps the problem was a surfeit of words; Tarrant seemed to struggle with something deep within his throat, until finally, he said very cautiously:

"I am glad that you have returned to Underland, Alice."

"Underland is not all that I have returned to, Tarrant."

"You….forgive me, then? I'd hoped you had, when I found this."

Tapping a jumbled piece of fabric pinned to his waistcoat, Alice peered at what she'd first thought to be an uncharacteristically foppish corsage, startling when she saw what it truly was.

"That's a bit of fabric, twisted into a flower. From the suit you..." Alice wasn't quite sure what words to use to describe his actions towards that unsuspecting outfit; Tarrant had several.

"Abused, mauled, destroyed? Yes, it is. You...saw the dress, that was to go with it. Do you know what this suit was to be for? What I dreamed while I stitched and sewed and embroidered?"

"It was a wedding suit," Alice said. "I asked Thackery." (And that conversation had been circuitous and frustrating in the extreme, with more than a few sighed, gentle redirections away from soup and back to the topic at hand!) "When he told me...I just couldn't let it be, I had to try to fix it." She stepped closer and touched the uneven and inexpertly done stitches holding the two small scraps of fabric together. "I will admit to some confusion, though. I thought we were...I mean, aren't we...?"

"Already married? Aye. But... well...perhaps it was sentimental and foolish, but I'd hoped, when you'd said you'd be back before I knew it, on Frabjous Day...that ye'd be back for me. And so I sewed, and repaired the House, and...waited. I would have kept waiting, Alice, from now until the end of Underland, if you hadn't taken ill. But when I saw you...it was beyond my control; I had to bring you home." Tarrant spoke towards the toes of his shoes as he said, "Do you still forgive me, now that you know everything?"

Alice felt an ache under her breastbone at the way his lashes hid his eyes from her. "There is nothing to forgive, Tarrant. True, I was quite cross with you for the way you first brought me to Underland…and your behavior towards Hamish could have been more genteel…but you've done nothing to prompt such fear of censure from me."

"What of me not telling ye before? Of what there was betwixt us, lass. I should have at the very least done that."

"I don't know that I would have been ready for it, before."

"Are you now?"

"No," Alice admitted. "But I am more ready than I was a fortnight ago. I'm ready to try. I love you, Tarrant, and I'm ready to take the chance that it can grow into more." She raised her hand to his face, the hand with the finger her golden rings rested upon.

"What more is there than love, lass?"

"This," Alice said, as she grasped his ascot and pulled his lips down to meet her own. Tarrant melted, mouth clinging desperately to hers, and it was only after a thorough (and mutual) plundering that Alice released her hold. Her Hatter's eyes were half-lidded and muzzy.

"More Love," she answered, a cheeky smile blooming on her face. And then she stepped across the threshold and into his opened arms.