A/N: I would like to personally thank guest reviewer Leanne for being too sweet! And also everyone who's stuck with me this far. According to my traffic graphs, a significant amount of people seem to stop reading after the first chapter, so apparently this story has a limited appeal. Ah, well. Can't win them all.

I've been able to get these last two chapters out pretty quickly (relatively speaking) because there wasn't much I really needed to do for them, but from here, it's uncharted waters. I know the general path I want to take, but I haven't completely figured out the specifics of how I'm going to get to my endgame. I guess we'll see what happens.

Chapter 7

"Imagine a room where there are flowers that bloom

Through the cracks in the floor and the ceiling

Just you and the missus and rose-scented kisses

My, what a wonderful feeling"

/-*-*-*-\

"And then?"

"And then," Carol sighed, placing her head on top of her folded hands, "I left. God, that's an understatement. I ran out of there like Death itself was on my tail. If the sheriff didn't snap me out of it, I don't know what would have happened."

"Damn. Why the hell would you leave?"

"Ruby!" scolded Carol, flushing redder than the waitress' short-shorts.

"What?" she grinned innocently. "He's hot, rich, and single!"

"You know what else he is? My boss. That cannot possibly end well."

"Says who?"

Carol scoffed, "Says just about every sitcom and rom-com ever. It's a terrible, horrible idea."

"I think you should go for it," a new voice chimed in from behind Carol. She turned in her seat and saw a tall, stubbled man in a leather jacket smirking at her.

She narrowed her eyes at him, inspecting him. "And you are?"

"August," Ruby warned, "stay out of this."

The man, August, was seemingly unaffected by her rough tone and turned his bordering-on-arrogant smirk at her. "The lady is obviously distressed," he offered as an explanation, "I was just trying to help." Ruby simply rolled her eyes and went to ring up his tab. He shrugged and turned back to Carol. "And, yes, my name is August. August W. Booth. I'm new in town."

He offered his hand to shake, but she didn't take it. "Well, it's nice to meet you, Mr. Booth," she replied, attempting to keep a pleasant, or at the very least tolerant, demeanor, "but I don't think this is any of your business."

Shrugging again, he retracted his hand. "I'm afraid it is."

Her eyes widened slightly in disbelief at the man's audacity. "And how do you figure that?"

"When it comes to this town, everything is my business," he replied cryptically. Sending a wink Ruby's way, he laid several bills down on the counter and left the diner.

"So, he's kind of a creep."

"Yeah, a bit," Ruby conceded, staring after him with a far-off look. When he was out of sight, she turned back to Carol. "So, what are you gonna do about your boss?"

"Well," she sighed, "first I'm going to bring him his lunch. Then, I'm going to act like it never happened." It wasn't what she wanted to do, but it's what she had to do. What she wanted to do was muss up his perfectly coiffed hair with her fingers and kiss him until she couldn't breathe. But she couldn't. No matter what she said, it was more than just him being her boss; there was something else stopping her. She couldn't quite place her finger on it, though. She had been wondering about it since she met him, but every time she thought she was getting close to an answer, it slipped out of her grasp like smoke.

"Do you really think that's going to work?" Ruby raised a questioning eyebrow in response. "From the way you described it, he really likes you."

Carol groaned and dropped her head into her hands. "Of course I don't think it'll work." She looked up imploringly. "But what else can I do?"

"Well, I have a crazy idea," Ruby shrugged, turning to retrieve Carol's lunch order. "You could talk to him about it." Carol just sighed as the bag with her food in it was placed in front of her. "Think about it. Let me know how it goes."

"Thanks, Ruby," Carol sighed, fishing money out of her purse. "Wish me luck." She picked up the bag of food and walked out the door.

Alice carefully sidestepped a child that rushed past her, managing to keep the tray she carried from toppling to the ground. She had put on one of the lovely dresses that were in the armoire in her tent, and it seemed as though it was fitted just for her. She had decided to forgo shoes to feel the soft, dewy grass between her toes. Her mother would probably faint dead away if she knew, but it had been so long since she'd walked barefoot through the grass that Alice found she didn't care. After a few days at the Wonderland Insurgency's camp, she thought it was only polite that she return the favor Jefferson had shown her when she first arrived, that is, she was bringing him tea. A woman known as Duchess helped her gather necessary ingredients and they were even able to scrape together some finger sandwiches (although she suspected the woman put way too much pepper on them). He never included her in official meetings, as he said when she arrived, but she couldn't help but feel a surge of pride at how far he's come. Jefferson's tent was in sight when the sound of his tense voice made her take pause.

"Read it again."

The light inside shone through the canvas of the tent, and she could make out Jefferson's elegant silhouette pacing next to a round table. There were four more seated at the table, and she could see where Jefferson's seat was vacated. She proceeded slowly to the open flap of the tent before pausing next to it. Peeking inside, she saw Walrus and Carpenter sitting close at hand, and on the other side of the table were the Tweedles, Dum in emerald and Dee in eggplant. Walrus shifted in his seat and Alice nervously drew back, but her curiosity won out and she stayed to listen.

"Jefferson," Carpenter groaned, "we've read it dozens of times. It's not going to change simply because you will it to."

"I don't care," barked the hatter, stopping abruptly and slamming a hand on the table. "It can't be true."

"It is foretold," Walrus moaned. "Nothing can prevent the prophecy. You know that as well as anyone."

"But she's innocent! She has nothing to do with this!"

Dee piped in, droning, "The Seer has gotten us this far already. We're inches away from removing the Red Queen from power forever!"

"Do you think I don't know that?" Jefferson snapped. "Do you think I've just been sitting on my hands this whole time? I have been planning this operation for years!"

"Then you know that we've all had to make sacrifices," scolded Carpenter. "You know that you and everyone involved must do whatever it takes to win this war. It's your birthright."

"Will you leave my damn birthright out of this?" Jefferson's shoulders slumped and he sighed heavily. "Fine. Let's pretend for a moment you're right. Read the prophecy again. We'll interpret it in relation to her."

"Sounds like as good a plan as any," Dum commented idly. "Maybe then you'll see that she is the one."

"All right," snapped Jefferson. He sat down on the edge of his seat. "Read it again, Carpenter."

The Carpenter cleared his throat and read:

"The child born unto darkness shall return to slay her womb.

Her home without light is left unwillingly, but she shall rediscover an ally transformed.

The sister of blood will fall from her high place.

And goodness and the scorned sister of light will hold dominion over all."

After a moment where the five men at the table absorbed the words, the hatter pied up with, "Born unto darkness. She hails from a world without color. But that doesn't explain womb. She wasn't born here."

"Perhaps it's referring to a rebirth?" Dum suggested.

"Or maybe somewhere she feels comfortable?" Dee countered.

The Walrus nodded. "She did mention that in some ways, Wonderland was like a second home to her."

"Her home without light is left unwillingly," said Carpenter. "She didn't mean to come back."

"And the ally transformed?" asked Dee.

"Me." Jefferson stated. "I'm the only one she knows here. Then, The Red Queen will be dethroned and The White Queen will return to power." A silence as deep as the Wonderland Woods settled over the tent.

It was the Carpenter who finally broke it, tentatively asking, "Do you see now?"

Hatter sighed deeply, running his hands down his face, "Yes. It's her." He regarded the room with an expression of grim acceptance. "Alice has to lead the attack against the Queen."

No. No. That can't be right. She had suspected they were talking about her, but hearing it out loud made it real. A loud clattering noise permeated her shocked haze and she saw Jefferson spring up from his chair and approach the entrance. It was then that she realized that the clattering noise had been the tea-tray falling from her hands. Whipping the entrance flap aside, Jefferson's eyes landed on her and his face fell. After a moment of shocked silence, he managed to say her name but nothing else. The sound of his voice broke the spell she was under, and, tea forgotten, she did the only thing she could think to do.

She ran.

"Alice! Alice, wait!" Jefferson called from behind her, sprinting to catch her. She ignored him. She didn't care if he was worried. She hated him. She had almost reached the tree line when she felt two strong arms wrap around her middle, preventing her from going any further. The arms tightened around her as she pounded on them frantically, trying to escape. "Alice," she heard Jefferson huff near her ear, "would you please just stop and listen to me?"

"Why?" she hissed, continuing to struggle. "So you can feed me to the Queen's creatures?"

He spun her around so she was facing him, his hands on both of her shoulders. "I didn't know about this, I swear to you! If I did, I would have told you, we could have prepared! I am as surprised as you are!"

"Oh you are, are you? Because imagine my surprise when I found out that the one person in this whole world I could rely on is ready to just throw me to the Queen!"

"I didn't say that! I don't want you to carry this burden. You have to trust me," he pleaded.

"Trust you? Why on earth should I trust you?" she roared, shoving his hands off her shoulders. "We hardly know each other, I haven't seen you in ten years, and if I'm some sort of hero, doesn't that make you the 'ally transformed'? Well when I knew you, you were kind and considerate and you would do damn near anything to help me. Obviously you've changed since then, so that part's true at least."

His features hardened and she could suddenly see why everyone followed him; he exuded authority and she imagined a lesser man would crumble under his harsh gaze. "People change, Alice. Especially after ten years filled with nothing but pain and death, the likes of which you cannot possibly understand!"

"And what is that supposed to mean?"

"You, Alice King," he emphasized, stepping closer to her, "whose biggest concern in life is that the dozens of men lined up to marry you aren't suitable enough, were victim to the loss of your father when you were too young to even remember what he was like. I bet that the sound of his laugh, even his smile have slowly faded from your memory. Do you even remember him at all?" Alice didn't answer him, a traitorous tear making a track down her face. She bristled but let him continue, too stubborn and upset to admit he was right. "My parents, my friends, everyone I love has fallen prey to the Queen's blood lust! And you don't like the suitors your mother has chosen for you."

"Why are you so fascinated with the concept of my suitors?" she barked.

"Your suitors?" Jefferson laughed, eyebrows shooting up his forehead. "That's awfully possessive. I thought you didn't want them?"

"I don't!" Alice countered. "I just want to know what they have to do with my killing someone!"

"Your suitors aren't the point here! The point is whether you like it or not, you were chosen to take down the Queen. Heaven only knows why, but you need to be ready."

"I don't need anything! All I need is to go home!"

"Well you can't!" he roared. "Even if I had my hat, you can't go! All of our plans, everything we've done is coming to a head in one week's time, and you are a vital part of them!"

"But I don't want to be!" she sobbed, more tears spilling from her eyes.

Feeling a distressing sense of déjà vu, he sobered and wrapped his arms around her. "I'm sorry," he whispered, pressing a soft kiss to her hair. "I lost my head for a moment there. I don't want you to have to do this, either."

"Why?" she sniffled. "What do you care who your hero is, so long as you've got one?"

"We were hoping for someone with a bit more experience in slaying," he smiled, pulling back to look at her. He swiped the pad of his thumb across her cheek, wiping away her tears.

Giving him a watery smile, she thanked him. "That explains why everyone else would be dismayed, but you don't care about that."

Blinking rapidly, he smiled, "I don't want you to get hurt. Please come back to camp."

"I won't go with you until you tell me the truth," she stated stubbornly.

"Alice, please," he implored, holding out a hand.

But she would not be swayed, and instead of taking his hand, crossed her arms over her chest. "Why are you so concerned about me?"

Taking his proffered hand and running it through his own hair, he sighed. "I think you already know."

She shifted on her feet. "Tell me anyways."

Barking out a nervous laugh, he absently scratched behind his ear and took a deep breath. "I feel as though there's some connection between us. I can't explain it, I don't even know if you feel it at all, but I do and it's scaring me. These emotions that I feel for you are frightening because I've never felt anything like it before and I don't know what to do," he sighed and probably could have stopped there, but his nerves urged him to ramble on if only to fill the silence. "But, as you so delicately pointed out, we hardly know each other. And now I've dropped this damned prophecy on you, and you have every right to hate me. You have every right to tell me I'm alone in feeling this way and then never speak to me again. If it's what you want, I'll leave you alone. I won't like it, but..."

He trailed off when he saw that she had stepped closer to him while he was talking. Much closer. She was looking up at him with red-rimmed eyes that were filled with curiosity and trepidation and something that he almost didn't want to put a name to. "Jefferson," Alice said, close enough that he could feel her breath on his skin. "You do entirely too much talking."

Flicking his tongue out to wet his suddenly very dry lips, he managed, "I've been told that before." His eyes flicked down to her lips and back up again. "Not quite like this, mind you, but..." Trailing off again, he placed his hand on her waist. Alice wrapped her arms around his neck and brushed her lips against his. Something like an electrical spark flickered between them, causing her to gasp and draw slightly back. Jefferson followed her, undeterred, and their lips met. The same electricity that was present earlier was back full-force and it coursed through them, connecting them in a way neither believed possible until that moment. Jefferson wound his arms around her to meet at the small of her back and greedily drew her closer to him. He was drowning in the kiss, and his only salvation was more of her.

The couple was so engaged with each other, they didn't hear twigs snapping in the woods just to the side of them.

She truly was beautiful.

Jefferson adjusted the window display and occasionally glanced over his shoulder as Carol boxed up a hat for a customer. Her easy manner and bright smile enraptured him, even after so many years of seeing them; her gaunt frame had gained more shape in the weeks she'd been out of the hospital and she radiated warmth and light. The customer left the shop, and Jefferson wished her a good evening as she went. Looking at his watch, he noticed it was six o'clock and flipped the sign at the door from 'open' to 'closed'.

After the incident earlier that day that the sheriff interrupted, he noticed that Carol had been very antsy, and when he tried to bring it up, she quickly changed the subject. It clearly made her uneasy, and he'd like to find out why, but he also didn't want to push. Coupled with the inexplicable feeling that he was running out of time, and he was tempted to just get it over with. Waiting until he knew they wouldn't be interrupted could be interpreted as cowardly, but he felt like he didn't have a choice.

She was in the process of locking up the cash register, and he leaned against the counter next to her, giving her plenty of space. "Carol?" he started cautiously. She acknowledged him with a purposefully distracted hum, and he steeled himself. "I'd like to talk to you, if I may."

"Of course," she replied, busying herself with something else.

He sighed. No sense beating around the bush. "What happened earlier today obviously made you uncomfortable," he stated, and she paused, "and I'm sorry for that. Therefore, I feel like I owe you an explanation."

For the first time since their moment, she looked him in the eyes. "Thank you," she said earnestly, even managing a small smile. "You don't really owe me anything as far as I'm concerned, but if you feel you need to explain, please do."

Taking a breath, he felt as though he was on the edge of a cliff, at risk of falling. "I am immensely attracted to you. I realize," he added quickly," however, that I may be taking things a bit fast, and I don't want you to think I don't respect you or your feelings."

Her eyes left his and she idly commented, "Maybe that's it…"

"I'm sorry?" he asked, confused.

As if not realizing that she spoke out loud, she started and met his eyes again. "It's just… I was wondering why I get this feeling like we shouldn't be near each other whenever I think about..." she gestured between them, "this."

He stood up straight, surprised. "You've thought about it, then." After what happened, he felt sure he was fighting a losing battle with this whole 'get her to fall in love with you again' thing. Now, though…

"Yes," she admitted, fiddling with her fingers. "And I get that feeling, but I also feel like I should ignore it."

Unable to help himself, he took a step closer. "Really?"

"You're my boss, though… and it… I, uhm," she stammered, suddenly forgetting every argument she had against it while her eyes flicked down to his lips.

Meeting her eyes, he softly murmured, "May I?"

After a moment, she nodded, and he shifted forward and claimed her lips with his own. His lips were soft, persuasive, and while one arm wrapped around her waist, his other hand rested on her face, his thumb gently stroking her cheek. Sighing softly, she draped her arms over his shoulders, relaxing into the kiss and responding tentatively, though growing bolder with each passing second. She could feel his pleased smirk against her mouth and he pulled her closer, nipping playfully at her bottom lip as he did. She gasped and he took the opportunity to deepen the kiss, their mouths slanting against one another. His hand at her neck travelled up to run through her hair.

Carol broke the kiss, gasping for air, her hazel eyes wide and searching. "What-", she panted, trying to catch her breath, "what was- I mean, you- and," she took a deep breath. "Did you see that?"

That's right folks, you get two first kisses in one chapter! Amazing! I'm impressed with myself, frankly. And yes, the last sentence is probably what you think it is, provided you're thinking of Graham. I hope you all liked that prophecy because I probably spent a good fifteen minutes trying to make that sound like it does. I based it on the prophecy from Harry Potter, Nostradamus's predictions, and there's some Edgar Allan Poe hidden in there.

Also, how deep is the Wonderland Woods, you ask? Hella. That's how deep.

Song is "Welcome to Mystery" by Plain White Ts