Let's have ourselves a mad 'tea' party.

Nemo had lost himself in Wonderland and had mistakenly become a participant in a mad tea party.

With a clown.

In an elevator.

In which vodka and champagne sufficed for a lack of proper tea (and frightened Nemo as he hastily downed the remains of both beverages per Jack's request and it occurred to the lad that such a mixture would likely result in a lengthy after-party with the toilet in the morning).

And an abundance of mini weenies served the same purpose as scones.

"That must make me the Mad Hatter. No, I think I'm the Dormouse. He always seemed stoned to me," Nemo absently noted aloud without a thought payed towards the confusion that such a statement may inflict upon Jack, and with the toe of his well worn and beaten combat boots Nemo kicked in one of the Ministry elevator's many numbered buttons.

If Jack wished to reconvene their mad tea party in his office, he was happy to oblige.

"What would that make you then?" Nemo inquired in a jumble of limbs as he passed each of his empty glasses to Jack and repositioned his wobbling tray of 'borrowed' appetizers upon his flattened palm. "I think you're the Mad Hatter then. You sure as hell aren't Alice," He noted with a toothy grin as they arrived.

Ding!

"Why the f-ck was I comparing this to Wonderland, anyway?"

Jack held the glasses in one hand and balanced the bottle of the hard liquor in the crook of that same arm, using her free hand to reach out and catch herself mini weenies. The little appetizers were delicious; she would have to thank Bernice for them, since Bernice had been put in charge of food, and did not particularly seem like a mini weenie person.

Poe spoke and she looked up at him, slowly chewing her food as she watched him try to reason his way through whatever it was he was talking about. He kicked a button on the elevator to take them to his office and Jack looked at the doors, assuming that he was done with him half-drunken rambles. However, he continued, wondering aloud what she was.

He claimed she was the Mad Hatter, rather than Alice, and Jack smirked. "You forgot the Cheshire Cat." She was interrupted by a ding and he questioned his thoughts. Jack laughed. "Because you're mad!" And with that, she left the elevator.

For a brief moment, Nemo appeared to ponder over Jack's proposal before coming to an abrupt decision, which he promptly voiced, "Nah. You don't smile enough for the part. Not your real, widest smile anyway," Nemo informed her in a level tone of curiosity. "Hard as I try, I only get that smile out of you every once in a while," He added with a grin of his own as a peace offering; a statement of the truth: No offense, but you know exactly what I'm talking about. "I got one tonight, back there."

He paused to chew thoughtfully, "You're definitely Hatter."

With a subtle spring Nemo stepped out of the elevator alongside The Savior, plucking food from the tray to force into his entirely too-full mouth. "Five doors down - over there. My name's on the door," Nemo guided Jack, resisting the laughter that had begun to bubble within him as a result of the joke that he'd told. A joke which was not made clear until the pair came to a halt outside the very door that Nemo had spoken of. From a lopsided nail in the center of the wood, a sign dangled reading: The Badass is

Scrawled across another slab, which hung directly beneath the first, was an interchangeable message. Presently, it read: Out. But with a flourish of Nemo's fingers the plank of wood was reversed to reveal a new status: In.

Nemo cast Jack a grin as he shoved his way inside.

The air was warm and heavy with the cinnamon incense and marijuana that had been left to burn beside a mattress in the furthest of the room’s corners, upon which sat two emptied bottles of vodka, a multicolored bong, and several rumpled articles of clothing. Between the threshold over which Nemo had already stepped and the bedroom that he had made for himself across the room lay a minefield of various books, manila folders in which paperwork had undoubtedly been stashed and long since forgotten, and an assortment of aged CDs and vinyl records.

The color of the floor could not be distinguished as a result of the clutter. The nature of the walls, too, remained a mystery, for across them many a newspaper clipping, map, and scribbled field report had been pinned. Around thumbtacks, string had been wound, connecting notes with relevant photographs and like locations on a particular map. Alas, there was evidence of Nemo’s occupation as an auror… as well as his madness.

And in a manner which betrayed the comfort that Nemo felt in such a chaotic setting, he maneuvered with ease across his office, jumping over rogue boots and dodging files of importance with ease to drop his tray of food heavily atop his desk, which was in an even more disastrous state than the floor. He proceeded to flip the switch of a near table lamp, but it did little to assist the pair in seeing in the eternally dimly lit room.

“What drink did you score us?” Nemo inquired while gesturing towards his mattress, inviting Jack to make herself at home as he snatched from the tray a handful of appetizers and stepped towards the makeshift living space himself.

Jack glanced up as he amended her idea, and she found herself cautious that he had noticed she was not one to truly smile. Jack had on a grin and smirk just as often as she wore shoes, it seemed, but perhaps she had begun to fail at covering up the reservoir of bitter resentment over being such a black sheep among so many wolves. And when she was among the sheep, she became the wolf. Still, Jack thought herself very good at playing the part of grinning goof. It was almost unnerving that Poe had noticed. And then it made her wonder. It was true he had received a true smile- but what did it mean that he had noticed it? And what did that say about her?

Jack was musing far too much. She needed to open this bottle. That would promptly halt inner reflection and allow her to celebrate the success that was the fundraiser. The actual fundraiser itself was little work. It had been the weeks of planning that had taken real effort, real talent, real work. Jack had cut her sleep nearly in half over this ordeal, and the help of Poe secured all the money they really needed.

He directed her towards his office and she strolled down, looking for the correct door. She turned as she counted to five and immediately grinned, nodding. "Approval rising," she commented, looking at him. She followed him inside his office and looked around. She felt another small grin unfold on her face. Yes, this was pretty much what her room back home had looked like.

She took to the mattress and plopped on it, pleased to find it to be very comfy. "Oh, I didn't even check." She looked at the bottle and made a slight face. "Ah. Scotch." She held it out to him and said, "You're the host. Pour me a glass, slave." She held out the glasses for him.