"Alice?...oh...Alice!"

A joyful laugh tore from his throat as his arms were thrown about you. Oh joyous day, joyous day! He always knew he would find you, even if it took searching, and searching, and searching and...

Jervis grabbed your hand eagerly, practically clawing at your wrist as he guided you to the intricate table, lined with mismatched teapots and chipped teacups and pastries far too stale to beaten.

"Oh, you have no idea how worried I was! Truly, worried, worried, worried my dear-" He helped you into your seat in the table, the seat he had reserved just for Alice. Oh, how long he had been looking! It felt like all his life. Everyone said you would never come; those psychiatrists at Arkham (a truly dreadful place), every other woman who tried to be Alice, the dastardly Dark Knight himself-

"Oh..." Jervis' face scrunched up, his tongue clicking as he sat at the head of the table, in the moth-eaten chair he had acquired for himself. It was easy to get things, when he could simply control their weak little minds into giving them to him. "None of that matters now, dear Alice, we're right were we belong!"