Summary of story to date: A spell read at the wrong moment sends Spike and Tara to Wonderland. They arrive as young children, with only a vague memory of their past. Every time that Tara uses magic, the two grow a little older. They discover that when Glory opened the portal in the Buffyverse, personalities from that universe bled into Wonderland. While some inhabitants are unaffected, many are now a cross between their original Wonderland self, and a character from the Buffyverse. Most importantly: White Queen Dru, White King Giles, Xander the Gryphon, Andrew/Riley, the One of Hearts and The First/Jabberwock. The First has taken advantage of this situation and intends to make Wonderland it's own. Spike and Tara are asked to go on a quest to find The Vorpal Blade, and use it to defeat The First/Jabberwock.
In the last chapter, Tara has a panic attack and believes that Spike is The First or his minion. She thinks The First may have changed her somehow, and made her fall in love with Spike. She finds she can't hold on to that belief for long. Spike explains to her that The First might be messing with them, but that It couldn't affect their love. The First knows nothing about love. That makes sense to Tara. She agrees to accept her love as real for now and she feels in control for the first time since arriving in Wonderland.
Chapter 12
Tara watched the clouds dissipating in the morning sun, revealing the black-and-white squares of the valley below. She didn't want to leave this meadow at the top of the world. The golden sunrise, the decision to let love guide them--it all seemed so right. She felt so centered but she also felt ready to rumble.
Putting her hand in Spike's, she said. "Let's get back to camp, and find out what we need to do."
The words were barely spoken when the world shifted; Tara's nose, and her three left toes, and her vertebrae stayed on the mountain, while the rest of her str-re-e-et-ch-ed. The world snapped back in place. Before she could even blink her eyes, the shift started again, slower, shimmying to the right, tilting in the air, a carnival ride to unreality, and it took all of Tara this time, sliding her down a tunnel, bumpety-bump-bump…
She swung her head back and forth, wildly. They were in a forest of fungi--all manner of mushrooms: puffballs scattered like popcorn; brain-shaped morels; beefsteak polypores the size of a cow's carcass; and black chanterelles looming like trumpets that blared to the sky, the smallest standing taller than her head. The light flickered, neither sunlight or moonlight; the air heavy with a bruised unhealthy pollution. Strange crackles and pips and whirs attacked the silence. Despite the clammy cold, the tiniest hairs on her arms and neck stung with electrical discharge.
She snatched her hand away from the Spike-thing, and pushed into the granite of the cliff-wall behind her. She stared at him. Shadows shifted across his face, turning his eyes into unoccupied hollows. She was finally seeing him for what he really was.
"What have you done?" She pushed at him, sick to even be touching him.
"Love. I didn't do this." His voice turned her stomach; it was scratchy and loathsome.
The electricity built inside her like a scream; the musty scent clamped onto her skin. He--It smiled at her, still trying to convince her it cared. The shadows took his smile, bisecting his face into a skull's grin. She looked around wildly. Where could she run?
"Tara. What's wrong?" It tried to look into her eyes, and she bolted.
Her feet dragged through the thick clumps of fungus, and she tumbled, bouncing on her knees. She glanced, goggle-eyed, over her shoulder to see if he'd followed her. He stood, arms wrapped around himself. She wasn't fooled.
Something sparked in her head, a small voice from deep inside. "He loves you."
Hysteria crashed against her in waves, and the static sent lightning into her lungs. She fought to listen to the small voice but pressure from within stopped up her ears.
A blinding beam of light made her throw up her arm. She blinked tears of shock away, anxious to see.
"Welcome to my mushroom, Ladies and Gents…"
Tara choked back a scream by stuffing her hands into her mouth. The spotlight-from-nowhere illuminated a perfect circle in the darkness, a caterpillar form looping across a mushroom stage, his green horned head and garish red eyes threatening her. In one its several hands, it held a microphone. She felt a white sheet of blankness pulling over her brain, and fought to stay conscious.
The caterpillar grinned, exposing impossibly white teeth. "Now there's a warm welcome."
Spike hunched down beside her, put a hand on her arm, so lightly that it tickled. "He won't hurt you, pet. Think he's a friend."
"That's the key. Talk to the girl." The caterpillar began singing.
"Communication is the problem to the answer You've got her number and your hand is on the phone"
Spike swung his head around, his own teeth naked and gleaming. "If you've got something to say, say it, Lorne. No mumbo-jumbo. No musical numbers."
"Well, they're kind of my trademark, champ. But, hey, I'm here for the audience." Lorne sniffed.
"You know what's wrong with my lady?"
Lorne moved the microphone in a circle. "I've been here a while now, and I still get a wee bit queasy when I cross the rank and file boundaries. Throw in mind-tampering by The First, and no wonder the poor lamb's losing her wool."
"Mind-tampering? Son of a bitch!" Spike forced a smile on his face when Tara scooched away on her hands. He looked back at Lorne. "You can tell that for sure?"
"Oh, The First's all over her. Didn't you notice she was acting a little strange?"
"I'm a stupid git. If she'd been talking to people who weren't there, I would have twigged. What's with the boundary thing? What can I do about that?"
"How should I know? Time and space are all wacky here. Anytime you cross from black to white you go through some kind of hyperspace field and it's tied to the earth magic and you're tied to the earth magic and The First is tied… but what to do? Beats me. I still get sick. Didn't you get any kind of instructions? Kind of standard with these quest things."
"Dru spouted some mumbo-jumbo."
"There wasn't anyone else to explain the game? General rules? Tricks of the trade?"
"JustAndrewandXander." Spike scuffed the ground.
"Watcher Andrew? Geek personified? Dungeon Master Nonpareil? And you didn't ask about games?" Lorne tossed his hands up and rolled his eyes at the sky.
"I didn't know we were supposed to be playing a bloody game, all right? Bugger off!" Spike ripped the head off an innocent mushroom.
"Well, pardon me for living--the guy who's here trying to help. What have you two been doing?" Lorne smirked. "Besides not getting to first base? Not to get personal but you lovebirds have something special together. Possibly the only thing you have going for you."
"Yeah, well. As you can see, she's not big with the loving at the moment." Spike tilted his head at Tara, and his voice softened. "I'm sorry, love. I should've realized what was happening." She stared at him, but gave no sign she heard. His voice roughened as he turned back to Lorne. "But we had figured that out--decided that love was the only thing we had. We agreed to let love guide us, and then we were here and she was like that. So what was that about?"
"I'd like to help. But I've been told to bugger off." Lorne rubbed his nails against his coat and examined them for shine.
"Right. I hurt your feelings. Sorry 'bout that. Now--answers?"
"Color me impressed. Something resembling an apology. Must be her influence."
"And it's wearing off." Spike showed his teeth again.
Lorne puffed breath from his lips. "You're back-asswards."
"And that means?"
Lorne sighed. "I'm supposed to be the love counselor. You should've got the rules of the game from the geeks, and then tripped to my part of the world, where I tell you to listen to your hearts." Lorne clasped his hands to his heart. "You figured out the wrong thing, or more importantly, didn't figure out the right thing in the time allowed, so The First got to call the move."
"There's time-limits?" Spike took a long, deep breath.
"I don't know!" Lorne made a sound of exasperation. "I'm guessing here, big shot. But you better make some decisions soon. My clue to you is 'Let your love guide you.' And that's all I've been told."
"And I told you we figured that out. Didn't do any bloody good."
Tara forced herself to touch Spike's shoulder, a glancing touch, and she pulled her fingers away as if burned. Her voice was a squeak, mouse words were coming out her mouth.
"He means…he's saying we should concentrate on what we need to know now. So we won't lose this round." She swallowed. ""But … how can I trust my love…you could be lying. You could be The First. Working for The First. Both of you." She looked at Spike and looked away.
Lorne's red gaze softened. "You are a sweetie, aren't you? No wonder Mr. Snippy there is so in love." He raised the microphone, and took a deep breath, then paused. "Poop. No singing." He scowled at Spike. "You're really grilling my grits, bubba. For you though, honey," he blew a kiss at Tara, "I'm doing what I shouldn't do. There is more to it. Let your love guide you."
Spike plopped to a sitting position, hand running through his hair. "That's it then. You spout off reams about what you don't know, and nothing when you do."
Tara swayed away from him. He was arguing again. He was trying to keep the caterpillar from giving them information. Just like always--interrupting, interfering. Soon he'd attack. She felt the static increasing, snaps of panic bursting in her brain.
He lowered his head, his eyes finding the path to her eyes, and pushed away strands of her hair. "You know I'd never hurt you? The First knows that if It gets you, I'll follow right behind. So It's trying to make you run from me to It. 'Cept I'm not going to let you go." He touched her cheek, so gently she barely felt the touch. He looked back at Lorne, revelation in his eyes.
"We figured it out." He kissed her hand, rose to his feet, and strode backwards, giving her a clear path. "We already figured it out. We do exactly what we did before. You trust me. We agree to let love guide us. You listen to your heart, and you come to me."
Spike wasn't nearly as sure as his words would indicate. Tara could see it in his eyes. He was as frightened as she was. He didn't know how she'd react. She didn't know, either.
Sounds popped in her head, ping-ping-ping. The spotlight was gone. The caterpillar was gone. The shadows marched in like an army of ants and crawled across Spike's face. If she ran, he'd catch her within moments. If she told him to go, he'd take her with him. The certainty of it was black in her heart.
She pinned her gaze where his eyes should be, searching until she found the blue.
"I'll wait here forever, love, if I need to. You come to me." Spike's words formed echoes; ghosts mocking his words, drowning the sweetness of his voice with snide menacing tones. She could use the magic. Fry him before he knew what was happening. She'd be safe then. Toast him just like she did Willow. Make his insides run like marshmallow.
She focused on Spike's words, just the words. "Love you, baby. Let yourself love me. Please."
Back at the camp. She'd snapped out of this funk back at the camp. She could do it, again. No difference. She just had to take his hand. She could melt with him with bolts of lightning.
She stood.
He talked, talked and talked. She felt her leg move, tugging at her foot as if it was pulling roots, and then replanting them a few inches away.
She panted, and her arm lifted.
The other foot moved, and then the other, and…
Free. She was free!
Tara ran to Spike, and he was holding her and she felt The First leave. Saw It in her mind, where It was leaving, where It had got in. Her brain squeezed with anger. It wouldn't be getting in again.
Spike wrapped himself around her, murmuring into her hair, as though he couldn't stop talking now. His voice was his own again, rich and smooth as cream. She floated in it.
Keeping her arms locked with his, she pulled back until she could see his face. "Let your love guide you. That's what he said. The caterpillar."
"He did. You on to something?"
"I think so. I think…it's literal. Not great philosophical love." Tara looked directly into his eyes. "I let my love --you--guide me. Followed your instructions."
"We just need to tell each other what to do? That it?" He kissed her ear.
She nodded, let her forehead fall against his chest, savored the closeness of him.
"Easy enough to test. I'm ready to blow this pop stand. Tell me to do something." Spike released her, and then hugged her again before moving away. "Your word is my command!"
Tara's mind went blank. "Ummm. Simon says take two steps back."
"Not listening to Simon."
She smiled. "Take two steps back."
Spike lifted his foot with great exaggeration; a cloud of dust puffed up when he stomped it down. He paused for effect, and stepped again. Arms out, he raised an eyebrow and waited for her next order.
The ground began to unravel beneath his feet; great gashes tearing at the earth, like arms clawing at the dirt, feeding it to whatever waited below. A great cracking sound swallowed his name when Tara screamed it.
Spike disappeared into the starving fissure.
The unraveling continued, but Tara didn't wait for it to reach her. She gathered her feet and her courage and jumped after Spike.
TBC…