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She should have known.
Really, it’s not a surprise. A shock, certainly, but not a surprise- she doesn’t think anything will surprise her anymore. Not really.
Nonetheless, she finds herself kissing him- no, making out with him, like a desperate teenager, like they’re long lost lovers, like so many things she dreamt she would feel but had never felt before- and, of course, it’s in front of her mother.
Her mother, who lets them go on a bit before clearing her throat loudly. The two of them spring apart.
“Mom!” Alice turns to face her, still managing to maintain her grip on Hatter’s lapel. “I will explain all of this to you. I promise. But please give us some time?”
Her mother gives a small smile, still confused but trusting her, always trusting her. Alice is sure she will find time to be grateful for that later. But in that moment she ignores the feeling and grabs Hatter’s hand, dragging him down the hall to her bedroom and fighting the urge to grin when she hears his soft, warm chuckle.
She has a thousand things to say to him (how did he get here, why, what is he doing, what are they going to do) but she is stopped mid thought when he pushes her against her door and kisses her again.
He kisses her like she’s his oxygen, she finds. She’s never felt this wanted before and she likes it, wraps her arms around his neck and presses every inch of herself she can manage against him. Hatter. Crazy, stupid, brave, wonderful Hatter.
They stop when he pulls away to gaze at her- really gaze at her in a way that makes her feel beautiful and self conscious and ridiculous and giddy all at once, and really, she hopes this man will always make her feel this way.
He nudges her nose with his. “Hi,” he mutters.
Her grin stretches across her face. “Hi.”
He tugs her to her bed and flops onto it, pulling her next to him and laughing. She loves his laugh. She never heard it enough before that day. (Had she even heard it at all?)
She doesn’t even know where to begin, so she starts with what seems safe. “Your hair looks different.”
He nods. “Your world makes it less perky, it seems.”
“My world does that?”
“I’ll have to get used to it.”
“So you’re staying?” She hates the insecurity, but she can’t help it.
He laughs again. “Are you daft? I’d follow you anywhere.”
She is perfectly aware that there is much to talk about but at that moment kissing him seems more important. Kissing him, finding out how his chest feels under her hands (very nice) and how he reacts when she slips her hand under his shirt (with a quiet little gasp she files away somewhere safe).
“I like the outfit,” he murmurs between kisses, “but I liked your dress more.”
“Hmm?” Did he say something? Because she’s discovered that he shakes just the right way when her lips find his pulse, and that’s much more interesting than words.
“Your dress. I liked it.”
Was this that important? But she gets her answer when he tugs her up so she is straddling his hips.
“I like you wet, Alice.”
That should not be as effective as it is, especially since he punctuated it with a wobble of his eyebrows, but the double entendre brings her back to their first meeting. She curls into him, tucking her face into his neck and breathing him in- he smells like allspice and cinnamon and she hopes the scent clings to her sheets.
She manages not to just demand he get inside her right there, with her mother only a few rooms away. All in good time.
He brushes his lips against her neck and lightly trails his hands up and down her spine and she sighs. She feels warm and safe and just lovely, really.
“So, I have to tell you: the construction thing is a bust. Not feeling it. But I met this bloke on the way over here and he told me, he’s got this venture…”
He babbles about a con or a start up or whatever it is and she can’t bring herself to listen fully, can only register the timbre of his voice and his hands on her back and the feel of him. Hatter is here. Hatter left his world for hers.
How could she possibly be worth that?
She sits up abruptly, straddling him more firmly and interrupting him mid stream.
“Hatter, are you staying on this side? You don’t have to stay on this side. You can commute? Maybe? This is fast, isn’t it? Really fast?”
He’s looking at her funny. Why is he looking at her funny?
He sits up carefully, rearranging her legs as he goes so she can stay in his lap.
“Do you not want me here?”
She marvels at him for a second. How could he even ask?
“Of course I want you here!”
He smiles a crooked little grin. “What’s too fast, then?”
She doesn’t know. Maybe old Alice would have thought it was. Maybe part of the new her is scared of this, too. Maybe she’ll need to start speaking more and sputtering less because before she’d come back, she had said nothing and almost lost him. Her life has been divided into two parts- before and after Wonderland- and she finds that he has thoroughly ingrained himself into both sides.
She kisses him instead of answering out loud and he responds eagerly.
“Not too fast,” she says in between kisses, “but still scary.”
“Scary isn’t the worst,” he manages back.
“Just-” she pulls away again. “We need to talk. About everything. It can’t be like before, when we fought about everything to avoid saying what we really thought. We’ll fail if we don’t and this- this is-”
“It.” He’s so matter of fact that it stuns her for a second. She ruffles his hair just to give herself a second to breathe.
When she recovers, she nods. “Yes. This is it.”
He flips her onto her back, kissing her so fiercely that she can’t breathe, can barely think about anything but his lips and his hands and his hips pressing into hers, just right, and, and-
This is falling, then. Not the fear when your grip slackens, but pushing off from the balls of your feet and knowing that something will catch you.
She wonders if she could have known that before she fell through the looking glass.
He’s kissing his way down her stomach when they’re interrupted by a sharp knock at her door.
“Alice? David? Do I get that story now?”
Hatter snorts into her stomach and she finds herself laughing again. They really have turned into teenagers.
“We’ll be out in a minute, Mom!”
They hear her footsteps retreating.
“God,” Alice says, “What are we going to tell her?”
Not that she’s worried. Mostly.
He shrugs at her, tapping his fingers rhythmically against her hip. “I’ve got some ideas. Do you trust me?”
She thinks her heart might burst at the now familiar question. “Completely.”
He explodes onto his feet with a joyous smile. “Right! Let’s go convince your Mom that I’m the love of your life!”
She can’t wait for them to begin.