Title: Family Names
Author: strangelittleswirl
Rating: T/PG-13 (for suggestive stuff and an inference of naughty language)
Spoilers: Very slight and for both parts of Alice
Words: 1231(couldn't have done that if I tried)
Pairing: Alice/Hatter
Disclaimer: I don't own any of this, at all, and that really does sadden me.
Summary: What starts as a simple question turns into a different kettle of onions entirely.

"I confused things with their names: that is belief." -Jean-Paul Sartre

It had been niggling her, at the back of her mind, for far too long, so she finally decided to ask.


"Yes, my love." His head rose and when their eyes met his were wide and brown and she tried very hard not to fall in love with him any more than she had already because then really, her work would never be finished.

"How old are you?"

"Twenty eight, sweet."

"No, I mean, really. How old are you?"

Slightly disgruntled, he sat up and came to rest his back against the headboard next to her. He took the closest hat, on the bed-knob, and placed it onto the top of his head. Shirtless and under the sheet, the look was quite comical. "I mean, really," he mimicked her, "that I was born the equivalent of twenty eight years ago in Wonderland."

"And how old is that by our standards?"

He raised an eyebrow. "Twenty eight," he repeated, slowly. "Just because the mirror puts us in different points of time doesn't mean that a year here is not a year there, we just don't care to acknowledge it, they pass whether we want them to or not, so why bother?"

The book fell to the bed covers, now forgotten. "So you're not one hundred and fifty?"

"Hell, no!" he crowed, with a laugh, and pulled her onto his lap. "How would you ever even come to that erroneous but mirthful conclusion?"

"What you said about the other Alice, about how I couldn't be her. That we didn't live that long-oh stop laughing, I'm serious!"

"Well you don't live that long, and neither do we. And all Wonderlanders knows that Alice of Legend was blonde, while you are very much a chocolate-haired, dream-conjured confection." For emphasis, he ran his fingers through her hair; he had a habit of that. "And I wouldn't have it any other way, you know." Despite how strange it sounded upon further investigation, she could tell he was being his own particular brand of sweet at the moment. Not that she would let on to that, of course.

"I wasn't breaking out the peroxide anyhow," she responded primly, which was rather difficult as he moved his lips to her ear, and her neck. "Do you have a name other than Hatter?"

"Didn't know this was a trial," he mumbled into her neck, and then gave her a wolfish grin when the action resulted in her shivering. "Of course I do, an' a proper one at that. David Chase."

Honestly, he could never be serious. Alice pushed at his chest and tried to pry herself from his grip. "If you're not going to truthfully answer me..."

He laughed at that, and tugged her down into the unmade bed. "If I'm lying may a Jabberwocky be my mother, my name is David Chase. Why else do you think I'd be so peeved when that man stole my name?"

Alice looked up into the eyes of David Chase, and tried the name out for herself. "Couldn't imagine that your name actually was the Hatter. That would be too much like the children's story's character."

His mouth tasted hers, then nipped at her lower lip as he settled himself above her. "And I'm not like that Hatter?"

She strained upward to kiss him, and to pull him into her arms. Hip to hip, he pressed her down into the bed and started to nibble at her ear. "Not at all," she managed to gasp out.

"David Chase," Alice mused out loud to herself later on, wrapped in sheets and resting her head in the crook of the man's arm. She felt relaxed as she was watching the play of lights on the ceiling, altered occasionally by a passing car or ambulance, and feeling those talented lovely fingers stroke her arm.

"David Theophilus Roger Chase, to be precise," was his answer.

The brunette rolled over and watched her lover's face carefully. "Seriously?"

"Do you think I'm mad enough to come up with a name like that?"


She could make out his pout in silhouette. "Your lack of an answer is response enough," he sniffed. "They're family names, if you must know. Just as I'm sure the Hamiltons have some sort of middle name you got stuck with."

Shaking her head she settled back down and again he petted the skin of her arm. "Mom's grandmother was someone famous or something, so it's Mary. I think they're St. Clairs," she said absently, feeling sleep start to take her over. The hand on her arm stopped its stroking. "Mmm, what?"

"So you're a St. Clair, you say?"

"Very distantly, yes." She knew him well enough to see this was headed somewhere. Alice pushed herself up on her elbows so she could look down at her boyfriend. "Why?"

Oh, he was trying to distract her, she thought to herself as he rolled onto his side, gave her a long look, and bit his lip. His lips were still swollen (she was fairly certain hers were too) and his hair was more mussed than usual. "The Resistance kept an eye on Alice once she came back. Alice of Legend. Alice Liddell."


"She got married to a fellow named Reginald Hargreaves."

"That's very nice for her," she responded, impatiently.

"They had a son named Caryll Liddell Hargreaves. Who..sod it, I'll just jump to it, had a great-grand daughter named Mary-Jean Rosalie Alice...who married a man named St. Clair."

Alice stared at him, openly. "So I'm related to her?"


"Related to Alice of Legend?"

He nodded. "Most likely."

Then Alice did something the Hatter wasn't expecting. She yawned loudly and slipped back under the covers until they were up to her chin and wound her arms about his waist. "That's good to know. Now let's sleep."

It was his turn now to ogle at his girlfriend. "Just like that, you're fine with it? I tell you that coming to Wonderland and toppling corrupt, matriarchal monarchies is something that is quite possibly a family tradition and you're just going to plop yourself down into the bed and, and have a kip?"

"If a 'kip' has anything to do with sleeping, then yes because I have got get up early to teach a birthday party class full of seven-year-olds," came her answer, muffled by his chest.

David Theophilus Roger Chase frowned for a second, then let his head fall back onto the pillow with a smile. She was so good with things like this, had been taking insanity in stride since they moment they met; he admired that. "I love you, Alice Mary Hamilton."

"Luvoo" came the voice near his heart.

He gave a small laugh that to someone who didn't know him or his ability to punch through walls with his right first may have confused for a giggle.

"So I'm sure you'll be fine with the fact that Charlie's coming to stay tomorrow morning and I'm fairly certain he's bringing Guinevere."


Notes: Possible inspirations for the original character of the Hatter were Theophilus Carter and Roger Crab.
Mary-Jean Rosalie Alice St. Clair really is related to Alice Liddell, and also has a fabulously long name.