liveandletdie8

     Two hours later found Alice pacing her living room impatiently. Hatter was late, and Alice found herself wondering if yesterday hadn't been all a wonderful dream. She might've convinced herself that it was, if Carol hadn't kept bringing up "that wonderful boy, David."      At one fifteen, precisely, someone pushed on the doorbell as though they were trying to poke their thumb through the wall. Suspecting whose thumb it might be, Alice walked impossibly slowly towards the door. He'd made her wait, she'd make him wait. All's fair in love and war and all.      When she finally opened the door, she felt like she'd enterred a wind tunnel.

     The dinner went about as well as could be expected. Twenty times over Hatter thought Carol would call foul. But each time he and Alice nimbly avoided the guillotine.      All in all, a night that Hatter wished to be forgotten as quickly as possible.      By the time Hatter left, he was exhausted. Really, it was less tiring to outrun both the Mad March and the jaberwock. 'But,' Hatter thought happily, 'The worst is over. Carol seemed willing to accept the lies we told her.' The immorality of dishonesty was lost on Hatter save for with one person.     There was a tell-tale spring in his step as he walked back to Jack's apartment. Sur

Did V really die? I know so. Not because I placed his body on that doomed train, decorating it macabrely with roses. Roses I imagine that splattered as blood in this his last fiery statement. I know because V became what he desired, an idea. Ideas don't die, V stated over and over. They don't, but ideas mutate and become obsolete. When ideas are widely accepted, they transform into a belieg ,and the only way to keep a belief pure is to challenge it with new ideas. And what is death, but a transformation from living consciousness to nothingness? Which is why he could not pull the lever, he wanted to be an idea not a belief. Had he been the one

A not so subtle cough interrupted their lovely reunion. 'Ah,' Hatter thought as he guiltily faced Carol. Locking lips with her daughter, when as far as she knew, this was the first time that he had seen Alice conscious, decidedly not the best way to impress her. 'Okay, so, as it stands, I saved her daughter (more then once, but she doesn't know that...) one point for me, I took care to see if Alice was alright, there's another point to me, but then I made out with her daughter.' Hatter mentally winced, 'Well there goes any built up points, and another three besides that. I need a story and I need it fast.' Hatter's mind raced as his

 Hatter returned to his tea shop which was now as empty as his soul. He didn't have anything, so he began to sink into the relief of insanity. Alice would join him at a tea party, but she was always so far away. But whenever he attempted to move closer, the Mad March would appear and shout, "Clean cup, clean cup! Move down, move down!" Then Alice would move enough to keep the distance the same between them. On the third day of this torture, Hatter threw a teapot at the Mad March, and ran out of the shop. He didn't pay attention to where he was running, he was just trying to escape. Before he came to himself, he was in the forest, but not

Hatter came into the Hall of the Looking Glass, he had plucked up the courage to tell Alice how he really felt. He might've fone so in the forest had he been allowed to actually kiss Alice. But no. Jack of Hearts, prince charming, himself, had to interrupt. Sure, for the greater good, but Hatter still held a grudge. There were a bunch of oysters...er...humans in the hall, but Hater's eyes located Alice immediately, but, oh, how he wished they hadn't. Alice was hugging Jack as if for dear life. Unbelievable, after all that he'd put her through, Alice could still find room to love Jack. He had to slip away before she noticed him. A cle

 It had been a fast transition, right after the celebration of the reopening of Jim's family inn, the Admiral Benbow, he had to get to the Academy. The suit he had worn to the party was the one that he had to show up at school in. The first day, the academy made its students where formal attire. His mom seemed close to tears when she went with Jim to the space port, but Sarah Hawkins did not cry, especially not in public. Even when his father had left, Sarah refused to shed a tear. The transport to the Academy was fast. Jim's first glimpse was of an old fashion university, except there were solar surfers zooming all over. Staring at the

It had been several years since Russell had met Peter in the ballroom of some nobletry or others. He had gotten the story from her and Holmes since than and was appreciative of the roles that they had played. They had known that he would take up criminology it was just a matter of when. Incidentally it occured right after his help in the Ruskin case. Holmes and Russell had known that he had had a habit of helping with mysteries, he was not unknown to the yard. They, of course did not hear of it until the long train ride from Devonshire to London and London to Sussex. Russell was quite used to Holmes' habit of taking up passed due newspapers