Once Upon a Time The Mad Hatter and The March Hare

Storybrooke Maine was a place of routine.

Every morning at seven fourty five Regina Mills left for work.

Five minutes later like clock work Archie the therapist would say hello and then Mary Margaret would pass Regina on her way to the school.

Henry Mills would set off for school at the same time every morning, and every morning at Eight O'clock sharp, Claire O'Hara would scramble out the door of her tiny little house shouting "Crap! I'm Late!"

Every morning at 8:30 Claire would come bursting out of the post office with a teetering stack of boxes balanced precariously between her arms...

* * *

"Delivery!" Claire shouted, knocking on the door to Mr. Gold's shop.

After a few minutes the door swung open to reveal the pawnbroker.

"Hello dearie, running a bit late aren't we?"

Claire laughed, "Always."

Mr. Gold moved out of the doorway to allow her passage, "Just put them on the counter if you would Clara."

"Sure thing Mr. Gold!"

Claire swept into the shop, marched up to the counter and as carefully as she could, stacked the boxes there.

"I have a package for you to deliver as well," Mr. Gold said stepping behind the counter and pulling a package out from some nook or cranny or other below the counter.

He held out the box to her, "If no one comes to the door, just drop it off on the door-step."

"Yes sir!" Claire called cheerfully, "You can count on me!"

**_"Hey Jefferson..." Marchley O'Hare called after her one and only friend._**

**_"Hmmm?"_**

**_"What time is it?"_**

**_"Four o'clock. Why?"_**

**_"Oh! NO! I'm late! The Queen will have my head!"_**

**_The girl became frantic, busting about and trying to gather her satchel and various packages. _**

**_"I'll never get used to the time here! It's always changing!"_**

**_The Mad Hatter watched his friend fret for a few moments before taking out his pocket watch and tossing it to her._**

**_"Here, use this."_**

**_Marchley looked up just in time to catch the watch. _**

**_"A clock?"_**

**_The Hatter looked up from his work once more, "Yes, It was a gift from the clock keeper."_**

**_Marchley put the watch around her neck, the chain looping loosely there. _**

**_"I'll bring it back then."_**

**_"Keep it, maybe you won't be late tomorrow."_**

* * *

The house was huge, and as she neared it, Clara heard the watch around her neck begin to tick.

The tiny clock hadn't worked for as long as she could remember, why had it started now?

She used her free hand to press the button and the watch popped open.

It was wrong of course, and read, 4 o'clock.

Clara chuckled to herself, "Tea time..."

The closer Clara got to the large house the odder she felt.

She rang the doorbell, "Delivery!"

After a few minutes of silence, Clara set the box down on the step and turned to leave.

She was a few steps down the walkway when the door swung open, "Marchley?"

Clara spun around, "Oh! You _are_ home! I was wondering, Mr. Gold asked me to bring you a package. It's there on the doorstep. Who's Marchley? Is that a friend of yours? My name is Clara, I work for the post office, but I've never delivered to here before. Your house is huge by the way, I'm running late so I'd best be-"

Clara was suddenly struck by an intense head ache, "on my way..."

The man at the door made a move towards her, but whatever it was that had kept him inside the house, would not allow him to step passed the top step.

He scowled to himself, irritated, and called from the doorway, "Are you alright?"

It was only then that Clara actually saw the face of the person she had been speaking with.

The headache intensified.

The concern on the man's face was incredibly obvious now, as he quickly gestured for her to come in.

He wasn't sure if others could enter the house, and he knew he couldn't leave, but he wasn't about to leave the girl out there looking like she might keel over at any moment. She was a friend, and a dear one.

"Please come in, I'll make you some tea, maybe that will hep your headache."

Clara hesitated, "I can't, I'm already late, I'm meant to be behind the counter in ten minutes and it takes thirty to walk back."

The man wouldn't take no for an answer, "I insist, you don't look well. Please come in and sit," and then, because the girl seemed to find his request odd, he added, "You're already late, what could a few more minutes hurt? Besides, I would feel responsible if you fainted on your way back and got hurt."

Clara hesitated for a few more minutes, her headache steadily growing worse, "Alright," she finally conceded, "What could a few more minutes hurt? I'm going to be late anyway."

Clara easily stepped passed the threshold of the house, "What was your name again?" She asked him, "I'd like to know who I'm thanking."

The man closed the door, and looked her in the eyes, "Jefferson. My name is Jefferson."

There was a moment where the pain seemed to stop completely, and then Clara felt her head explode.

* * *

_"I know you, You're that mad man who makes hats for the queen. They call you mad you know? The Mad Hatter."_

_"My name is Jefferson."_

_"Yes, well, names aren't important here, just 's "The March Hare". Not really creative, since my actual name is Marchley. You don't seem mad you know, just from the look of you... there are a lot of hats here though... I guess that's to be expected considering you're a hatter."_

_"Was there something you wanted, or are you just here to babble?"_

_Marchley rolled her eyes, "I'm here to pick up a package for Dee and Dum, something about uniform regulations and hats?"_

* * *

_The Mad Hatter looked up from his millionth failed hat, muttering to himself, "It's wrong! All wrong!" , as the bell to his shop jingled._

_"Jefferson?"_

_"I'm in the back Marchley."_

_The beaming girl stuck her head around the corner, "You've been locked in here for days Hatter, what have you been so busy with?"_

_Jefferson flew into a sudden rage, slinging all of the top hats off of his table and watching them scatter about the room, "They Don't WORK! They NEVER WORK!"_

_Marchley sighed, stepping forward cautiously, and placing a hand on his shoulder, "You'll find her Jeff, I know it..."_

_The Hatter didn't respond. _

_"You know, someone once told me that taking a break from time to time can make you think of things you didn't think of before..." Marchley said, pulling out a tiny blue box._

_"What are you saying?"_

_The girl smiled, holding the box out to him, "I'm saying that tea is more pleasant with friends."_

* * *

Clara awoke to the scent of Bengal Tea, though she wasn't quite sure how she knew what sort of tea it was.

She'd been covered with a thick quilt, that looked to have been hand made, and was quite warm.

The man from before, Jefferson he'd called himself, was building a fire in the fire place.

"I didn't intend to wake you, the temperature outside dropped again. I didn't want you to catch a chill, and I know how much you dislike being cold so-"

Clara sat up, "Have we met before?"

The confusion on her face broke his heart, or at least what remained of it.

Clara was disturbed by his sudden change in demeanor as his face hardened and he straightened up "Of course not, don't be ridiculous."

She wasn't sure what she'd done to upset the man as he stormed out of the room, with a harsh "Enjoy your tea."

Disregarding the tea altogether, Clara threw off the quilt to go after him, she immediately felt the loss of it's warmth.

"Wait! Please!"

The man had his back to her, storming down the hallway, "I'm sorry for upsetting you, did I say something wrong?"

Jefferson stopped, his expression softening as he looked over his shoulder at her, his shoulders dropped ever so slightly.

"No, it isn't your fault, I'm sorry for taking it out on you."

There was an awkward silence for a moment, "Your tea will get cold, if you don't drink it soon."

Clara fidgeted.

"Is there something wrong? Do you dislike Bengal tea?"

Clara shook her head, "No, it's not that! It's- well... Tea is more pleasant with friends isn't it?"

Jefferson stiffened.

* * *

Clara sipped her tea, the quilt from before hanging around her shoulders. She was absently opening and closing the watch around her neck, a nervous habit she had been prone to for as long as she could remember.

Jefferson sat in the chair across from her, staring into the fire.

"It's awfully quiet here."

Jefferson looked up at her statement.

"It helps me think," he lied.

The two fell into silence once more, each lost to their own thoughts.

Clara fidgeted, "Earlier, you said you knew how I didn't like being cold..."

Jefferson's eyes flickered back to Clara.

"How did you know that?" her voice was soft and unassuming.

Jefferson shrugged, "You were wearing a very large coat."

Clara laughed, "I suppose that's a really good point! Mr. Hart is always telling me I wear too many clothes for it to only be fall!"

The man smiled, and as they lapsed into a comfortable almost silence, Clara heard the _tick tick _ticking of the watch around her neck and began to panic.

"Oh no! how long was I out here?! I'm going to be in so much trouble!"

She set her tea down and frantically began searching for her scarf and coat, "He'll definitely fire me this time I know it!"

Jefferson rose and handed her her satchel, he eyed the watch around her neck, "You know, for someone with a watch you're terrible at keeping track of time."

Clara's hand went immediately to the watch and her entire body relaxed. She grinned up at him, "It's the oddest thing! This hasn't worked for years, and earlier it just... started ticking..."

She pressed the button to look at the clock face, it now read five o'clock.

"I have to go now!" she said, "I'm terribly late! It's been an entire hour!"

Jefferson sighed, and led her to the front door.

"It was very good you know?" she said as he held open the door for her.

"What was?" He asked.

"The tea," she answered.

Jefferson gave her a sad smile, "An old friend taught me how to make it. I'm glad you enjoyed it."

Clara stepped out into the cold, and gave him a bright smile, "We should do it again sometime!"

As Clara reached the front gate Jefferson called out "Tomorrow."

Clara looked back, "Tomorrow?"

"Let's do it again tomorrow."

Clara grinned, "At what time?"

"Four o'clock."


End file.

Once Upon a Time, Drama, Hurt-Comfort