Alice was not exactly pleased to find herself in a strange hotel room. She was getting tired of waking up in strange places, especially when she was trapped in them. She wasn't sure whether to be relieved or not that Hatter was in the room with her. Having him there added a whole new dimension to the scenario. While having Hatter to herself in a hotel room was something she'd thought about more than once, suddenly having it become a reality was a bit unsettling.
Not to mention, this was in all likelihood, still Mayfield. And Mayfield meant trouble.
She stood a bit awkwardly, across the room from Hatter, wearing a clingy blue dress which nicely showed off all of her curves. It wasn't something she'd have picked out for herself...though she didn't mind the look it was causing Hatter to make her way.
((Sorry about the wait, had to go home for the weekend, and mountains have no internetz))
He arched an eyebrow, looking more at the dress than her, and it took him a minute to realize his mouth was about half open. A second or so passed, in which he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, before he said, "Happy Valentines Day? ....In... er... September?"
"You've been here since Valentine's Day?" He shook his head, looking dark. He forgot sometimes how long they'd kept here there, how long they'd been apart.
She sighs a bit, but she's still smirking. It was one of the more harmless tricks Mayfield had pulled on her. She sits down on the edge of the bed next to Hatter. She leans over and helps him with the tie.
"I got the coat you gave me in the mail. When I put it on it made me think I was you. I walked around town talking like you and looking for myself."
She deftly unties the tie and tosses it to the floor.
"Yes, I did have you accent, or so I'm told. I don't really remember it myself. And I'm sure it was the town. Everyone was acting funny when they got their gifts in the mail."
He grinned widely, and in a smart voice said, "Go on, then, give it a go. British Alice."
After the tie was gone, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, shrugged off the suit jacket, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. The habits one develops from wearing dress shirts... although this one lacked a fantastic seventies pattern.
Playing the chicken card, are we? She frowns at Hatter.
"I'm not a chicken," she replied. Then, for the briefest of moments she slips into a very bad British accent. "It's just silly an' stupid, an' I don't want to do it. Happy?"
"Happy? Why would I be happy? You just murdered my accent," but he's grinning now, and tensing up for the beating he knows she's about to deliver on him.
This fact makes him laugh even harder, though he tries to stifle it.
Not to mention, this was in all likelihood, still Mayfield. And Mayfield meant trouble.
She stood a bit awkwardly, across the room from Hatter, wearing a clingy blue dress which nicely showed off all of her curves. It wasn't something she'd have picked out for herself...though she didn't mind the look it was causing Hatter to make her way.
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He arched an eyebrow, looking more at the dress than her, and it took him a minute to realize his mouth was about half open. A second or so passed, in which he awkwardly scratched the back of his neck, before he said, "Happy Valentines Day? ....In... er... September?"
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She laughed softly for a minute, forgetting that they were in a possibly dangerous situation.
"Trust me, Valentines Day here was a completely different situation altogether."
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"You've been here since Valentine's Day?" He shook his head, looking dark. He forgot sometimes how long they'd kept here there, how long they'd been apart.
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"Wait, thinking what?" Well, that sure got his mind off of it. "Thinkin' you were... well that's a story I want to hear."
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"I got the coat you gave me in the mail. When I put it on it made me think I was you. I walked around town talking like you and looking for myself."
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"Are you accusing my fabulous coat of being a witch, or d'you think it's something the town did?"
He paused.
"Did it give you an accent?"
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"Yes, I did have you accent, or so I'm told. I don't really remember it myself. And I'm sure it was the town. Everyone was acting funny when they got their gifts in the mail."
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After the tie was gone, he unbuttoned the top button of his shirt, shrugged off the suit jacket, and rolled his sleeves up to his elbows. The habits one develops from wearing dress shirts... although this one lacked a fantastic seventies pattern.
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She picks up his discarded jacket at slips it on. While the dress she was wearing was beautiful, it didn't do much to keep her warm.
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"Do it, go on," And tries not to look too disappointed.
"One of these days, you'll learn to wear sensible clothing that you won't have to cover with my jackets."
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"No. And it's not like I planned to wake up wearing a dress like this."
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And Hatter, of course, is going to give up, holding up his hands in resignation.
"Okay, okay. Just sayin', it'd be really cool. Super cool. The coolest. But, y'know, if you're too chicken, I understand."
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"I'm not a chicken," she replied. Then, for the briefest of moments she slips into a very bad British accent. "It's just silly an' stupid, an' I don't want to do it. Happy?"
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This fact makes him laugh even harder, though he tries to stifle it.
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