The unmistakable sound of crunching pottery came from underneath his shoe. Jervis automatically lifted his foot and stepped back. Kneeling down, he inspected the shattered fragments. There was a sparse amount of light, yet it was enough to be see the blue-and-white pattern. The Mad Hatter recognized the motif from that old teapot he and the March Hare had swiped from the tearoom. Logically, this was Mary Anne's doing. Bungling, insufferable fool… Leave it to her to muddle even the simplest of tasks. The woman couldn't even clean up her own mess. Jervis bypassed the shattered teapot; he would deal with Mary Anne later. The Mad Hatter made his way through the theatre's corridors. He stopped briefly at the scene shop room. Jervis glanced down, expecting to see a golden glow spilling out from underneath the door, but instead there only darkness. He put an ear against the door. Silence. His fingers curled around the doorknob. Jervis then stopped. It would displease the March Hare if he entered without permission. The Mad Hatter released the doorknob and continued down the hallway. He entered the Looking Glass Room.

The March Hare was there. She sat on the floor with her back resting against the chair as she partook in a game of Solitaire. Jervis could see the Ten of Diamonds clutched in her hand. Harriet looked up when the Mad Hatter entered. Her frame tensed, and she waited for him to speak as that determined look Jervis knew so well appeared on her face. She was anticipating an order. There was no need for sabotage or spying today. Jervis nodded cordially and the March Hare immediately relaxed. She smiled warmly. "Hatter."

Dismissing the couch, Jervis sat on the floor. The March Hare ended her game of Solitaire. She jumbled the cards together and began to shuffle. She then dealt them out, eleven for him and ten for herself, and placed the rest of the deck face down.

The Mad Hatter pulled out his wallet. "I want you to purchase something to wear tonight. Here." Jervis handed her a few wadded up bills. "I know that women like pretty things, and pretty things cost a pretty penny. I won't have my March Hare looking shabby, especially since we'll be around Gotham's well-to-do tonight." The Mad Hatter began arranging the cards. "I thought perhaps we should have supper at the Top of the Crown before seeing The Firebird. We'll dine on lobster and fancy soup. You know, m'dear," he added thoughtfully, "that's exactly how it's going to be when we're wealthy. Extravagant meals. Servants- satisfactory ones, not bumbling dolts like Mary Anne. We'll live in a mansion with a ballroom, and I'll see to it that the ballroom has a checkered floor, like a giant chessboard. There will be a garden too, and green lawns with a hedge maze, and a hutch filled with white rabbits. After all, my March Hare has been especially good. She needs to be rewarded, does she not?"

He placed the Five of Spades next to the deck. The March Hare grabbed his hand before he could even let go of the card. She pinned it down and leaned forward until their faces were only inches apart. "You're trying to entice me with grand promises. I don't like that."

Jervis blinked in surprise at this unanticipated reaction. "Now, really, m'dear! I just want to you happy so you…" His voice trailed off as he attempted to wiggle himself free; the March Hare tightened her grip. He couldn't help being both amazed and unnerved by how strong she was.

"So I won't run off," she finished for him. "You think I'll stay if I'm happy and then you'll never have to control me." She spoke with grudging acceptance. The March Hare's grip then slackened. "You're very insecure."

The Mad Hatter's head jerked up and his meekness vanished. Jervis now had the sudden urge to plant a micro-chip on her. He didn't mind strong women, just as long as they conducted themselves properly. There was a difference between being strong and being impudent, and impudent women needed to be put in their place. The March Hare must have sensed the danger because she swiftly leapt to her feet.

"Now, see here," the Mad Hatter said indignantly, rising up off the floor, "this has nothing to do with insecurity and I highly resent you suggesting-"

"Then you're very untrusting," the March Hare said rather sulkily. "And after all I've done for you too. It's not enough, is it? You just don't trust me."

"Don't trust you? Don't trust you? Oh, your devotion seems unquestionable, I admit, but who knows what will happen in the future. Women are such fickle creatures. Has it ever occurred to you, m'dear-" (He said this last world rather sneeringly) "-that maybe it's women that I don't entirely trust? That maybe all those years working alone and living alone has made me develop some misgivings about them? All right, maybe not entirely alone." He chortled. "It's true, m'dear! I've stumbled upon all sorts of ladies before encountering you. Yes, yes, gold-diggers who fawn over their rich employer at company parties, relentless superiors who deride you at every given opportunity, silly little secretaries who run off with younger, better looking men-"

"I told you that I wasn't going to be like her, Tetch." the March Hare seethed.

"Don't," the Mad Hatter said slowly, "ever address me as Tetch." Jervis's fingers brushed against a circuitry card hidden in his pocket. "I've spent the last few years of my life being addressed as just Tetch. Heads will roll, Tetch. Where is Alice, Tetch? It's time for therapy, Tetch."

"And what about me, Hatter? I've been striving to prove myself my entire life. Trying to prove that I'm smart. Trying to prove that I'm worth loving. Trying to prove that I'm sane-"

"But you're not sane-"

"And here I am, trying to prove that I'm committed to both you and your criminal lifestyle."

Jervis again chuckled humorlessly. "Did you know, m'dear, that the March Hare and the Mad Hatter had a quarrel in March? Who won that fight, I wonder? The March Hare is quick and strong, but the Mad Hatter is the one with the advantage. Though I must admit that the March Hare could do her share of damage," he added fairly.

"Yes, the March Hare could indeed," Harriet agreed. Her glowering face then softened. Smiling dreamily, she glided to the mirror.

"Wouldn't it be curious if I could just walk through this thing?" the March Hare asked. She put her palms against the glass. "Curiouser and curiouser, as you would put it. But why would I want to do that? I'm already in Wonderland. The normal world is there." She tapped the mirror. "Just on the other side. I can slip in and out of Wonderland, you know. I can behave normally. I have before, haven't I? Pretending to be a stagehand, going out to buy grocieries… I could go back permanently, that is if I really wanted to. But would the inhabitants accept me? No, they'd probably just monitor me, waiting for me to do something bizarre. They'd probably shun me too. No, I can't go back. I don't even want to go back. The March Hare is much better off in Wonderland."

She began to adjust the cuffs of her waistcoat. "And you know, Hatter, for someone who's read Alice in Wonderland so many times, there's something you're forgetting."

"Oh, really," he said sardonically. "And what's that?"

"That Alice was the one who left the tea party. She left, but the March Hare remained."

"You're right," Jervis said and his throat tightened painfully. He strove to collect himself. "I was harsh. I won't be anymore." The Mad Hatter suddenly seized her gloved hand, clutching it between his own. "Will you be a good girl and forgive me?" He repeatedly kissed her fingertips. "Say it." He tightened his grip in desperation. "Say that you'll forgive me."

The March Hare considered him for a moment.

"All right," she murmured at last. "I will. And for the record, Jervis-" she inclined her head " -I trust you."

She must have, because it would be so easy to place a circuitry card on that bowed head.

"It's okay if you don't trust me," the March Hare continued. The words were hardly out when the honey-sweet face turned sour. "No, that's a lie It's not okay. It annoys me."

Jervis almost expected another flare of temperament. He was greatly surprised when the March Hare instead bounded forward, throwing her arms around his neck. "I'll make you trust me, that's what I'll do! And I'm going to make you proud, Jervis! I'll prove myself to you!"

"Just behave yourself. That will make me happy." Jervis smiled and gently withdrew. He tapped her nose; it involuntarily twitched like a rabbit's. He chuckled to himself. "Of course, it will make me even more happy if you prepared yourself for tonight." He again gave her some cash. "Here. It's not a reward, mind you, just an unbirthday present."

Hours later he and the March Hare were feasting on lobster and oysters. They were enjoying the thrilling ambiance. Or at least he was; the March Hare looked watchful. Her posture was taut and her unblinking eyes scanned the restaurant. She looked rather pretty in her wine-colored gown. But pretty ladies in gowns should not be acting like bodyguards. It just wasn't proper.

"Isn't this frabjous, m'dear?" Jervis asked, hoping to incite a smile. "Isn't this better than frozen TV dinners and microwaveable meals?"

"It's grand," the March Hare muttered through clenched teeth. "Wonderfully, wonderfully grand. But what if someone recognizes you?"

"It's quite safe for me to be out in public," the Mad Hatter assured her. "As I said before, people are utterly unobservant." His words were confident, but deep down Jervis had similar reservations, though he certainly wasn't going to let her nor anyone else know it. Not wanting to stand out, Jervis had discarded his whimsical getup in exchange for the standard, former attire.

The Mad Hatter lowered his voice. "I'll have you know that we're not the only criminals to eat here. Look over there." He discreetly pointed to a nearby table; the March Hare's eyes flicked in that direction. "One of Rupet Thorne's henchman. I also know that the Penguin thinks very highly of this place."

She perked up and glanced around anxiously as if hoping to catch a glimpse of the notorious crime lord. "I've heard that he has very refined tastes."

"Indeed," the Mad Hatter said dryly. "You know, I've always liked the name of this place. The Top of the Crown. I can't help thinking of the a certain battle." He began to chant, "The Lion and the Unicorn were fighting for the crown. The Lion beat the Unicorn all around the town. A Crown. A symbol of power. Oh, I can understand why those two creatures would compete for such a thing. Every villain in Gotham wants to reign supreme. The Penguin, the Joker and Two-Face are the most thriving criminals in Gotham. They have it all: henchmen, money, fine cars... The world is at their fingertips."

"What about the Scarecrow?"

Jervis shook his head. "Jonathan has the potential, but not the desire. He scorns glamour. It's a never-ending cycle. The man uses fear toxins to steal money and uses that money to produce more toxins. But, as I was saying, I would like to fight for power. It was quite an accomplishment for me to get that money from Miss Anderson. And yet twenty thousand is nothing more than pocket change to some of my more successful comrades." The Mad Hatter suddenly drew back and grinned briskly at the advancing maître d'. "A loaf of bread is what we chiefly need."

"Bread" the maître d' echoed stiffly. "Wouldn't you rather have dessert?"

"No," the March Hare said with a winning smile. "We want bread. We like bread. We love bread. We could eat bread all day, every day, if we could."

"Indeed."

The maître d' went away and their smiles faded.

"So you see, m'dear," the Mad Hatter continued in a hushed tone, "I was hoping to establish an empire for myself before my retirement. And I want you to help me. The things I had talked about earlier- the mansion, the servants, everything- that's all a part of my dream. And yes, you're a part of it too." Jervis pulled out his pocket watch. "Come now. The ballet starts in about an hour. We don't want to be late, now do we?"

Author's Note: I am so, so sorry this took me so long to update. I received such wonderful reviews, but 2012 was a tough year. Thank you for your patience. Hopefully chapter eighteen won't take me too long. This was actually going to be a much longer chapter, but I decided to make two short chapters rather than one long one.

One of my favorite episodes is Make 'em Laugh. The best scene involves the Condiment King at the Top of the Crown Restaurant. I find it hysterical that nobody really acknowledges the whacko in getup UNTIL he starts shooting people with a ketchup gun. Even the people he was sharing an elevator with are totally oblivious. So yeah, if a guy like that can wander around Gotham, I'm pretty it's safe for an un-costumed Mad Hatter to go out in public.