Follow Alice

We followed the winding path away from the castle, the perfectly manicured hedges giving way to a more chaotic, overgrown thicket. The sound of the Queen’s screeching faded, replaced by the sound of loud, rhythmic snoring.

We emerged into a clearing dominated by a single, incredibly long table. It was piled high with teapots, towers of precarious saucers, and half-eaten cakes. Lanterns hung from the trees, glowing softly in the perpetual twilight.

At the head of the table, the Mad Hatter was slumped over, his face buried in a plate of scones. The March Hare was asleep inside a giant sugar bowl. The Dormouse was nowhere to be seen, likely hiding in a teapot.

"They are out cold," Alice noted, stopping at the foot of the table. She picked up a teaspoon and inspected it with a critical eye. "The sugar crash. It usually happens around 6:15. Since it is always 6:00 here, they are trapped in a perpetual cycle of sugar highs and sudden naps."

She dropped the spoon. It clattered loudly against a saucer, but the sleepers didn't stir.

"It’s maddening," she whispered, her voice tight. "Time stands still. Nothing changes. I celebrate my 'Unbirthday' every day, Ray. Do you know what that means?"

"It means you never experience new things, even though you've grown up," I said, leaning against the edge of the long table, crossing my arms.

"Exactly," Alice turned to me, her eyes flashing. "I am trapped in amber. A perpetual girl at a perpetual tea party."

She walked toward me, navigating around a stack of dirty plates.

"But you..." She stopped in front of me, looking up. "You bring change. You brought silence to the Queen's court. You brought logic to the forest. I suspect you carry 'Time' with you, too."

"I move forward, Alice. That's what Masters do."

"Then take me with you," she said urgently. "Not out of the world, I know I cannot leave. But take me forward personally."

She reached out and placed her hands on the table, right next to my hip. She swept her arm to the side. Crash. A dozen teacups and a tiered cake stand were shoved off the edge, shattering on the grass.

The noise was loud, shocking. The Hatter snorted in his sleep but didn't wake.

Alice didn't flinch. She had cleared a space. A space free of tea, free of nonsense, free of childhood games.

"I want to conduct an experiment," she stated, her voice trembling slightly but her gaze steady. "I have read about... adult interactions. The biological imperatives that drive the rest of the universe. I want to know if they apply to me."

She looked at me, dissecting me with her eyes, my height, my breadth, the dark coat that seemed to absorb the colorful light of the lanterns.

"I want to stop being a guest at the party," she whispered. "I want to be the main course."

"That's a dangerous hypothesis, Alice," I said, looking down at her. "Once you cross that line, the tea never tastes the same. The games stop being fun."

"Good," she said firmly. "I hate tea."

She turned around so her back was to me. She reached behind her. "Help me with this variable," she requested softly. "The knot is illogical."

I reached out. My hands were large against her small back. I found the knot of her white pinafore, the iconic apron of the little girl lost in Wonderland. With a slow, deliberate pull, I undid the bow. The straps fell from her shoulders.

Alice let the apron slide down her arms. It fell to the grass, joining the broken teacups. She stood there in just her blue dress. It was simple, fitted, and suddenly, she looked much less like a drawing in a book and much more like a young woman.

"Lesson one," I said, my voice low, blending with the hum of the forest. "If you want to be an adult, you stop asking for permission."

I placed my hands on her waist. I didn't squeeze. I just let the weight of my hands rest there.

Alice sucked in a breath. She leaned back, pressing herself against my chest, seeking the heat, the stability.

"Permission denied," she whispered, a small, clever smile evident in her voice. "Proceed with the investigation."

I lifted her. She gasped as her feet left the ground. I sat her on the edge of the table, in the space she had cleared. She was now eye-level with me.

Her legs dangled over the edge. Her black shoes brushed against my thighs. I stepped between her knees, parting them. Her skirt rode up slightly, revealing white stockings and the hint of pale skin above the knee.

"You're shaking," I observed.

"Excitement," she corrected, gripping the edge of the table so hard her knuckles turned white. "And... anticipation of new data."

I leaned in. I didn't kiss her immediately. I let her feel the proximity. I let her smell the scent of other worlds on me, ozone, darkness, and leather, so different from the sugar and tea she was used to.

"Open your mouth, Alice," I commanded softly. "Not for tea. For me."

She parted her lips instantly, her eyes fluttering shut. "Ready," she breathed.

I closed the distance.