Of Idiots with Idioms

"You people've got some funny sayin's, you know."

Alice looked up. Hatter was, as ever, reading. He found the ease with which literature could be bought amazing, and he read anything he could get his hands on. Text book or novel, poetry or prose, he'd read anything, and far quicker than Alice would be able to. Already he knew most of her world's history better than she did, and had progressed from J. K . Rowling to Shakespeare, Philip Pullman and Tolkein to Beatrix Potter and even, however grudgingly, Lewis Carroll ("Alice, I've lived in that place me whole life, I think I know it better than some one from your world. And just look at how they drew me granddad!) His flat was full of books, and he often put buying them above essentials such as food and paying bills, much to Alice's worry and bemusement. She had learned, however, that if she ever bought him a book, she would be... greatly rewarded.

Consequently, a large part of his ever growing library had come from Alice, each with a little note written in her best handwriting on the inside of the front cover. They even had their own shelves.

(Notice the plural on "shelves". Alice was hardly going to discourage him furthering his interests. In reading, that is. Yes... reading. Lots and lots of reading.)

So, as ever, he was stretched out over her couch, a book held open in one hand, a cup of tea in the other, eyes not faltering from the pages in front of him. Alice had been reading too, lying across him with her head on his chest, relaxed by the the gentle rise and fall of his breathing and his warmth. They had the flat to themselves for the afternoon, and Alice didn't have to be at the dojo until later. She was always curious to hear his opinions on her world, and she was sure this would be as interesting as ever.


"You lot, you have so many odd little sayin's that don't make much sense," he flipped a page with his thumb, sliding it under his little finger as he took a sip of tea, "I mean, I knew a few before, I'd read them before I came here. 'Tried ta impress ya when I first met ya. Dunno if you noticed, but I felt pretty proud of m'self. But surely... wha's with a 'kettle of onions'?"

"Fish, Hatter," Alice chuckled, "the saying is 'a kettle of fish', not onions."

"Either way, I don't think either would make for the best smelling tea, do you? You lot, you call Wonderland mad, but I think you're just the 'pot calling the kettle black'. Now, I've used both kettles and potts* in my time, and they come in all different colours! And I've broken a fair few pots in my time, and then 'everything goes to pot'. But 'every cloud has a silver lining', and I knew a little shop round the corner that I could go to 'at the drop of a hat' – which, might I mention, I rarely do, I mean, not to 'talk through my hat' or anything, but I can throw mine and catch it like a pro, and sometimes as many as three times in a row, like a proper 'hat trick' – and often they had pots there that, 'hats off to them', you could 'feast your eyes on', and sure enough, I'd 'eat my hat' if ever I found a place that made better teapots than that one little shop. And you may well say that I'm as 'mad as a hatter', using all these silly little sayings you oysters take for granted, but there's 'method in my madness'."

Alice looked at him for a long moment. He had barely paused for breath during the entire rant, though he had put his cup down on the table and turned the page once or twice. But aside from the occasional gesture in her direction, he could be mistaken for talking to himself. She had lost track of how many idioms he had used, and was sure that there were a few in there that she had never heard before, and it left her head spinning."Really? You mean, you're not just talking nonsense then?"

"Oh, I'm sure I'm talking nonsense. That's what I was saying, Alice, all your little sayings, they hardly make any sense at all, or if they ever did, they haven't for centuries, and yet you still use them without really knowing where they come from or what they mean. But you see, I did have a reason for bringing it up. 'Cos there's one saying that I think makes more sense than the lot of them put together. I mean, Wonderland was the same, they had sayings that you wouldn't understand, just like I can't understand yours. But there is one which really does mean something."

"And what's that then?" Alice asked, a confused but fond smirk on her lips.

She gasped suddenly, as in one quick movement, Hatter threw his book over his shoulder, slid down on the couch so that his head was level with hers and quickly took her lips with his own. Grinning lopsidedly at her, looking at her full in the eyes as his arms went around her waist and held her close.

"'The world is my oyster'," he breathed against her lips, and the look in his eyes made her feel like she was just that.


Author's notes: Unashamed fluff. I blame the fact that I have been really, really ill this last few days, and I'm hyper, for which the only reason I can think of is because I've actually had food today, which is nice. Plus, Andrew Lee Potts is the most amazing medicine ever. I swear, lucozade, grapes and SyFy Alice = instant revival. Trufax.

*No, that wasn't me misspelling pots, I wanted to make a little joke about Andrew's name. A bit lame, I know, but I'm ill, and it gave me a giggle, just like the rest of this fic did. I did get a little carried away, I must admit... It all started with that last little saying, but then Hatter decided to take over where the fic was meant to be going, and... well... here we are :/ Hope you enjoyed