Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk? - Syfy's Alice - Hatter/Mad March
A/N: I got my contributor's copy of the anthology my novelette is in yesterday. It got me to thinking - lately, I've only been working on graphic novel writing. It's frustrating and stressful and it's making me miss simple ol' prose. But I made a commitment, so I'm gonna stick it out. I know I hate prose when I'm writing them too.
But I want to keep exercising all the writing muscles I have so I thought, Hey! Now would be an awesome time to write a fanfic. So, instead of doing the smart thing and finishing up one of my many WIPs... I wrote a Wonderland oneshot.
WTF?
I don't even like Alice in Wonderland. I've never quite forgiven it for scaring the hell out of me as a kid. Syfy's Alice was cute though, and Andrew Lee Potts is yummy. (I started watching Primeval, he's so freaking adorable.)
It did bother me that they didn't elaborate on his past with Mad March. I kept waiting for it. When Hatter sees Mad March he has the line, "It can't be..." then later denies knowing who it is. Then we have Mad March who catches Alice and demands to know where Hatter is even though he really only needs the girl. And through the whole, damn, torture scene you get the impression that they know each but is there any exposition? Nope.
It was a lame resolution. So I assumed they were former partners in crime/fuck buddies and moved on with my life.
P.S:. This music video flexed none of my writing muscles and making it was pure procrastination, but I enjoy het too. Alice and Hatter were adorable together.
Why is a Raven Like a Writing Desk?
“I don’t know.”
“Really?” The March Hare smiled. “Bullshit.” The March Hare frowned.
“Really,” The Mad Hatter insisted, and the corner of his mouth twitched. For a moment, he even looked away.
He’s scared, The March Hare realized. Scared of me. “Well, if that don’t beat all.” He took his partner by the chin and angled his head to facilitate eye contact. “Aren’t we looking sane today, Mad Hatter?”
They watched each other for a while, in the silence, in the dark, on the roof of Mock Turtle’s soup kitchen. It was The Mad Hatter who cracked first, and The March Hare couldn’t help but feel some relief at hearing him laugh.
“You know,” The March Hare began, raising his voice over the laughter. “It’s not just me. The Queen - she’s been asking lotsa questions about you lately.”
“Yeah?” The Mad Hatter opened a thermos. Steam curled into the air, carrying the pungent, cloying scent The March Hare associated with his partner’s tea shop and his partners clothes and his partner. “It can’t be all that important. She hasn’t asked me. And since you’re not me she must not want to know the answer to those questions too badly.”
The Mad Hatter stopped talking long enough to bring the thermos to his lips and take a drink.
“Who knows me better than myself?”
The March Hare smiled a crooked smile. “I think I know you pretty well,” he said, angling The Mad Hatter’s head again, this time to facilitate intimacy. There was teeth and tongue and the taste of tea.
“You’re right though,” The March Hare said once their mouths separated. “The Queen’s asking questions I don’t know the answer to. So I figure- Oh, before I forget…”
The March Hare removed a small, brown, and unlabeled bottle from the inside pocket of his coat. The top unscrewed into a dropper. “Brand new emotion. You’ve never had anything like it.” He took The Mad Hatter by the wrist and emptied two drops onto his index finger.
But Hatter only looked away, using his free hand to take another sip from his thermos.
“You’re a big, fucking coward. You know that?” But The March Hare knew The Mad Hatter already knew that, so the former didn’t elaborate. Instead, he took his partner’s index finger into his mouth, sucked the emotions from it until he’d gotten The Mad Hatter’s attention back.
The March Hare reached for the bottle, smiling a crooked smile again. “You can trust me,” he said, emptying two more drops onto the back of The Mad Hatter’s hand.
“I can,” The Mad Hatter agreed, licking away the mystery emotion. “But I shouldn’t, and I don’t.”
It was The March Hare’s turn to laugh. “I don’t trust you either. Not one bit - which brings us back to the Queen-”
The March Hare stopped talking because The Mad Hatter wasn’t there anymore. He had moved to the edge of the roof where a low wall of concrete was all that separated roof from freefall.
The March Hare didn’t ask questions. He joined The Mad Hatter on the edge and followed his gaze instead. “Oooh, Sheep is home. This should be good.”
It was two levels down and one road sideways, but Sheep was there, unlocking the front door to her shop.
“This is what it’s all about.” The March Hare rested a hand on The Mad Hatter’s shoulder. “Sure, you know you’re making a difference in the world, but it’s nice to get out on the street once in a while - see it all first hand, you know?”
The door opened and Sheep went inside. Then there was a scream. Sheep was running back outside. Then , in her haste, she tripped.. Sheep was freefalling.
The March Hare couldn’t stop laughing. “Did you- did you see that? That was beautiful The Queen- The Queen is going to be so pissed!” He kept laughing even when The Mad Hatter walked away, looking tired and shaken and not at all amused.
“I’m going back to the Tea Shop.”
“No,” said The March Hare, and The Mad Hatter stopped walking. “No, I want to talk to you.”
“We can talk at the Tea shop.”
“I want to talk now.”
The Mad Hatter sat down again. So did The March Hare.
“We make a good team,” said The March Hare, resting his hands on his knees. “How long have we known each other now?”
“Since Wednesday.”
“Yes, but it’s been Wednesday for years. It was Thursday even longer. That’s a while.”
“I agree.”
“And I’ve always been patient with you because we make such a good team,” The March Hare continued, fingers digging into his kneecaps. “You’ve always had a conscience. So what? You work around your disability. I can respect that. I didn’t say nothing when you…”
The March Hare had to pause and work a little at forming the rest of that sentence.
“…started slipping. I-”
“Tea?”
“What? Oh. Yes. Thank you.” The March Hare accepted the thermos and took a sip. “I never even confronted you about those cocktails. Mania and Resolve and, frankly, all the things I come by honestly. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t think less of you for it, but it’s… tolerable.”
“Well, I’m glad we got that squared away.” The Mad Hatter began to stand, but The March Hare caught him by the front of the shirt and pulled him right back down.
There was a small, brief struggle as The Mad Hatter tried to pull away. Reflex, The March Hare decided. He knew from experience that his partner didn’t like being manhandled, handcuffed, tied up, tied down… none of the fun stuff. His right hand closed around The March Hare’s wrist with an implied threat that made him shiver.
The March Hare liked the fun stuff.
But now wasn’t the time for that.
“What I’m getting at is that you seem different.” The March Hare released The Mad Hatter’s shirt, and The Mad Hatter released The March Hare’s wrist. “You have me… concerned. What’s bothering you?”
The Mad Hatter shrugged. “I don’t know exactly… Everything, I guess. Everything the Queen asks us to do. Everything the Queen doesn’t ask us to do, but we do anyway.”
“The stuff we do anyway is always the most fun.”
“It’s not fun for me!” The Mad Hatter shouted, making the March Hare jump. “Not anymore… Just knowing that it was fun once makes me feel - I feel sick… Damn it, did you give me Honesty?”
The March Hare watched The Mad Hatter, expression blank, eyes wide as he nodded. He’d given him Honesty. He wished that wasn’t true, that everything his partner was saying was a lie. But it wasn’t. “You want to just quit?”
The Mad Hatter glared but otherwise seemed quite incapable of keeping the truth to himself. “It feels wrong, and what’s more, the Queen is dangerous. I don’t want to work for her, not directly, not exclusively, not anymore. I’ve been trying to figure out some way to get you to go along with it, but you’re a fucking nut so I haven’t quite puzzled that one out yet.”
“That makes a lot of sense.” And that scared The March Hare more than anything.
“Get off!” The Mad Hatter fell flat to his back as The March Hare pinned him.
“Shut up! And relax. I don’t plan on killing you just yet. You can trust me. I took the Honesty too, remember?” The words felt sick in his mouth, and he kissed The Mad Hatter to get the taste out. “You’re being stupid! You’re being so fucking stupid! We’re all mad here, Hatter! That’s how the system works! Rational thinking’ll get you killed. I’ll kill you myself before it comes to that.”
And because he was tired of all the truth in the air, Mad March punched Hatter. And then he stood, straightened out his suit, and went back to the roof’s ledge.
“You suck at hitting things. I don’t think I’m even bleeding,” said Hatter.
‘I’m more proficient with knives. You know that,” said Mad March. “But if you want to bleed, that can be arranged.”
“To be honest, I still just want to get back to the Tea Shop. It’s been a long night. Are you coming?”
“I don’t know.”
“You’ll try to kill me some day.”
“I know.”
“But tonight we’re still friends.”
“Obviously. Hell, when you‘re gone I might even miss you… At first.”
“You’ll miss me? Now that really does sound mad.” Hatter took Mad March’s arm with his hand, the one that made Mad March shiver and smile - Which he did. In that order. “We’d better go ahead and get this silly infatuation out of your system before it’s too late.”
Mad March gave a long, low whistle in approval as they walked to the fire escape. “Now that sounds like a plan…. Except… I was wonderin‘…”
“What?”
“If I’m planning to kill you, does that mean you’ll be trying to kill me first.”
“Oh. That… is one hell of a riddle. ” Hatter’s eyebrows raised, he regarded Mad March with a thoughtful smile. “I wish I knew the answer to it.”