Title: Little Wild One

Author: Jeanny

Part: 1/9

Spoilers: Season 5 through The Body

Rating: PG-13

Feedback: Yes, please! jeannygrrl@hotmail.com

Distribution: Go ahead, I don't mind, just credit me and tell me where it's going.

Disclaimer: Joss & Co. owns all these people, demons, creatures, etc. I'm only playing with them.

Summary: Willow's attempts to save Tara's sanity and the arrival of a mysterious stranger change relationships among the Scoobies forever.

Pairings: X/A, W/T to start, but then...be prepared for anything :)

Author's Note: This is an AU Season 6 story. As the story begins (in case something isn’t clear): Buffy is dead (?); Tara's cure turned out to not be permanent; Dawn has run away and Giles has left Sunnydale to search for her. Spike is still around but has been keeping to himself; he's had the Buffybot repaired but he's keeping it secret.

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Chapter One - Natural Defenses

Willow closed the book with a thud. She'd been through every one Giles' forbidden texts twice, and still there was nothing. No way to cure Tara. She was determined, but even with her nearly endless well of optimism she knew it wasn't looking good. She had been so sure when she'd taken Tara's energy back from Glory, she'd found the answer. Tara had been whole, her mind completely clear and lucid. She had been focused completely on Willow, trying to help her recover from the devastation that had accompanied her best friend's death. But mere weeks after Buffy's funeral, she'd begun to show signs of the dementia again. At first it was just moments, so brief they could almost pretend they hadn't happened at all. But all too soon the moments became minutes, and the minutes became hours. Now Willow was grateful for Tara's few lucid hours a day. She knew that soon those would be lost to her too. Unfortunately so did Tara. What was a blessing for Willow was now a curse for her lover.

Remembering what had happened a few days ago made Willow shiver though the room was warm. She had caught Tara attempting to end her life. Her girlfriend's eyes had been impossibly sad and without hope. Seeing the horror and fear on Willow's face, Tara had dropped the bottle of pills; pills and tears spilled in seemingly endless cascades. Willow had held her in her arms and promised she would come up with a solution, a way to save her life and her sanity. Then Tara had made her swear on Xander's life that if she couldn't reverse the harm done by Glory, she would leave her love in a mental hospital and never look back. It was the only way she could get her to promise not to attempt suicide again.

"I won't let you to lose your chance to have a happy life," Tara had whispered into Willow's hair.

"You are my chance," Willow had replied, pulling away to give Tara a reassuring kiss. Tara had given her a beautiful smile.

"The mice...they tickle my ears at night. Bad mice." The madness had returned just that suddenly, and Willow had almost broken then. She was close to falling apart now, listening to Tara's tuneless humming. Losing Buffy had been the hardest thing she had ever had to endure. How could she be expected to lose Tara as well? Willow was unwilling to even face that possibility. Instead she opened the spell book again. It flipped to the page she had been drawn to all day almost without any effort on her part. Frowning, she stared at the page again. It was the only thing she had found that was even remotely close to what she needed. The spell would link her mind to Tara's, allowing her to give her lover some of her own sanity. She had dismissed the idea out of hand at first; it was clear from the way the spell had been written that this was not a permanent cure. Plus, there was a real risk that the spell would backfire. Rather than pull Tara's mind together, the spell might pull her own mind apart. A lot to gamble on something that at best would only buy her more time.

Willow sighed. More time was what she needed most at this moment. She knew she simply couldn't bring Tara to a hospital and leave her there, but she wouldn't break her promise to her girlfriend. She knew that the others would disapprove. Tara would be furious...but there was no other choice. Everyone would just have to understand that. Rapidly gathering the ingredients together, she prepared the spell. Gently she pulled Tara into the sacred circle. Her girlfriend looked at her with wide eyes.

"Willow...its all overrun, overgrown...there's no way back..." Tara whimpered as Willow grabbed her hands firmly and kissed her lightly on the lips.

"I'll always find you," Willow whispered tearfully before releasing Tara's hands to light the candles and incense for the spell. She made the supplications in her head, relaxing her breathing to obtain a light trance state. When the offerings had been made and she could feel they had been accepted she put her hands on Tara's face, forcing their gazes to lock. Without hesitation she began to chant the final words of the spell.

"Our minds are bound. Our love the binding. Our minds are bound. The binding will hold. Our minds are bound. The order in my mind. Our minds are bound. Be the order in yours. Our minds are bound. With love we are bound. Our minds are bound. As our love holds. Our minds are bound."

As the spell completed, the candles and incense began to emanate a fine pink wisp of smoke. The smoke circled the two women, spinning in an ever-shrinking circle until it circled around their heads. It briefly touched them and dissipated. Willow and Tara both gasped as if all the air had left the room. They collapsed weightlessly to the ground, their eyes open and unblinking. Willow felt as if her brain was sliding out of her ears and onto the floor. She knew she was dying, could feel everything stopping. She could feel that the same thing was happening to Tara. The phrase 'autonomic function' came to her mind from somewhere, and the second it flashed across her mind she was suddenly able to breathe. She breathed heavily, feeling Tara's desperation and gratitude mirroring her own. As she felt her thoughts become more focused, she was aware of the chaos surrounding Tara's. Deep within that whirling chaos she could feel the spark that was her girlfriend's true self. Instinctively she reached for that faint glimmer and pulled. A moment later Tara blinked at her, disoriented but totally lucid.

"Willow? Did something happen?"

"It's okay, Tara. We're okay, everything's okay." Willow grabbed Tara in a quick hug, blinking back tears. After a moment Tara carefully extricated herself from the embrace.

Because of her gentle demeanor, most of their friends didn't realize what a very sharp mind Tara had. Willow knew and was unsurprised that Tara had realized that the redhead had not answered the question. She also knew Tara would quickly figure out the truth, and gulped guiltily.

"But something happened. You did a spell," Tara's tone was slightly accusing as she looked around at the candles and incense. Her eyes narrowed. "Dark magick."

"I did what had to be done," Willow answered, desperate for her lover to understand what she had done and why. "I can't bear to lose you, Tara, you're all I have left. Buffy's dead, and Giles and Dawn are gone..."

"You have Xander," Tara protested weakly. Willow looked away, but Tara could still see the pain in her. Things hadn't been the same with the two best friends since Buffy died.

"I don't...it doesn't matter, I have you. And I need you. I love you so much, Tara."

"I love you too, honey. You know that. I'm just worried-" Willow silenced her by placing a finger on her lips.

"Don't. Don't worry. I've got everything under control. I'm going to find a permanent solution. I just need time. There's nothing to worry about. I just need you to trust me, okay?"

"I trust you, Willow."

Much more was said, but not in so many words. Tactile expressions were better suited to share the depths of love, gratitude, relief and a range of other emotions than mere words would have been. And they were also more fun.

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Anya was lonely.

It had taken her a while to recognize the feeling, but she had to appreciate the irony. When she had first gotten seriously involved with Xander, she'd resented the role that his friends played in his life. She didn't understand why being with her wasn't enough for him; she had no interest in spending time with the others. They were a nuisance she tolerated for Xander's sake. But as time passed, she grew more accustomed to being part of a group. She forged her own relationships with them, particularly with Giles and with Tara until her brain was sucked. Now Buffy was dead, Dawn was missing, Giles was searching for Dawn, Tara was mostly crazy again and Willow was totally absorbed with helping her girlfriend. Even Spike had pretty much stopped coming around. She finally had Xander to herself. But he was all she had, and it wasn't enough. Especially since he spent all his time mourning Buffy, and worrying about...

The phone rang, stirring her from her reverie. Eagerly she reached for the receiver.

"Magic Box, your one stop shop for all-"

"Anya, it's me," Giles interrupted, his voice crackling over the static-filled line.

"Giles! Thank God! When are you coming home?"

"Oh dear, has something happened? Was someone hurt? Is the shop terribly damaged?"

"The shop's fine. I've taken excellent care of it. And nobody's been injured recently. But Tara's brain has gotten all screwy again. She's almost as bad as she was before...you know..." Anya trailed off, knowing there was no good way to describe the night they lost Buffy.

"I see," Giles sighed gravely. "Still, from your greeting it seemed something was further amiss."

"Oh,” she replied in a little voice. “It's me."

"Sorry?"

"I miss you, Giles." Giles was touched by her plaintive tone; there was great affection in his voice as he responded.

"And I you, Anya." After a moment of warm mutual silence, Giles sighed despondently. "I'm afraid I've run into a bit of a dead end here."

"Where's here?" Anya inquired with mild curiosity.

"Sioux Falls."

"No luck tracking Dawn?" Anya asked sadly. She missed Dawn, too, even though they'd never been really close. She was so lonely she was almost missing Olaf.

"I know she was here a few weeks ago, but she's gone now and the trail's gone cold. Frankly I have no idea where to go next."

"I know where you should go. Come back to Sunnydale. Please?" Anya knew she sounded needy, and she hated it, but she was desperate. There was no response on the crackling line for long enough that she grew panicky. "Giles, are you still there?"

"Yes, I'm here. I suppose you're right. I should return to Sunnydale and regroup. See if I can come up with some new leads."

"Yes! I can help...you're coming home? Really?"

"I do want to make a few more inquiries here. If no leads to Dawn's whereabouts develop I'll head back. I'll phone you again before I leave."

"So you think you'll be back in a few days?"

"Probably. A week at the outside...Anya, are you quite certain things are all right?"

"Yes, everything's fine. Just...hurry back."

Anya hung up the phone as Xander entered the shop. He looked briefly around the empty store before coming over to give her a quick kiss. She could tell his heart was no longer in the affectionate gesture.

"Didja run out of bibbity-bobs, hon? The morning rush is usually just rushing by now."

"I closed up for inventory this morning. I'm gonna open after lunch."

"You did all the inventory by yourself? Why didn't you call in the gang to help?"

"Xander, what gang? Tara and Willow? Spike?" Anya immediately regretted her exasperated tone as she saw Xander's face fall. He still hadn't come to grips with how much things had changed.

"Well, there's me..." Anya busied herself polishing the counter as she replied. It gave her an excuse not to look into her lover's eyes.

"I didn't want to bother you. You've had a lot on your mind." With a rueful smile Xander gently placed his fingers under her chin and made her look at him.

"I'm proud of you, sweetheart. That was actually tactful." Anya just looked at him. She couldn't think of anything else to say. He continued, "What you're not saying is that I haven't really been here for you."

"No. Yes. You haven't. You're shutting me out." Xander sat heavily, He struggled for the right words, looking at her sideways.

"I don't know what to say. Everything's different. I need...time." Anya felt a lump form in her throat.

"Do you still love me, Xander?" He stood and gathered her in his arms, the question hitting him like a slap in the face. Mainly because he realized it was a valid one.

"What? Yes I...yes! Of course!" he sputtered, but it sounded half-hearted to his own ears. He could feel the heat of her tears on his shoulder, and it felt like the sear of a brand.

"Are you sure? Because I can't feel it anymore."

Xander stroked her hair as she cried. He wanted to cry too, but he couldn't. He had failed Buffy, and now he was failing Anya. He had promised her his heart, promised her forever, and now he was welching on that deal. Not to mention that he and Willow had barely spoken since Buffy died. His best friend. Another forever deal gone sour. Everything had gone wrong so quickly.

"I'm so sorry, An. I never meant for this to happen."

"I know," Anya replied softly, her voice muffled by his shirt. Xander knew what he had to do, but it felt like he was cutting off a part of himself.

"I still love you, Anya. I always will. I just...I'm not the same person I was before...I don't think I'm what you need right now." Anya pulled away from him, clearly terrified.

"No! Please, don't say that. I...I can do better..."

"It isn't you. Don't ever think it's you. I just think...maybe we need time. Apart."

"Big bomb clock," Anya whispered. She turned her back to him, but her distress was plain to see. Then she straightened, and turned, and he shivered at the emptiness in her eyes.

"Anya, you're not gonna do-"

"I think you're right. I need new friends. Friends of my own, who don't risk their lives all the time fighting demons and then go off and die or run away or just stop loving me." Xander winced at the last words, as Anya brushed past him, wiping the last of the tears from her eyes. "I have to get to work, Xander. I need to open so I can sell things to make money. Giles is counting on me. You should go now." She started gathering up things blindly, pretending she was involved in what she was doing, as Xander stood helplessly. He didn't want to leave it there, but where else could he leave it?

"I can help-" he began lamely, then stopped when she held up her hand.

"Please. Go now, or I’ll...just go!"

She didn't watch him go. And even if she had, she wouldn't have noticed the large dark eyes that had taken in the entire scene with malevolent enjoyment. The silent observer opened a small silver portal near the shop entrance and vanished through it moments before Anya turned around to stare numbly at the door.

*****

He was surprised.

That was the young man's first conscious impression after the transformation. And he was surprised that he was surprised; it was the first time in his short life he'd felt that way. Nothing that had happened to him till now, no matter how extraordinary, had stirred any feeling other than pain. He had endured his unexpected separation from his kin and the never-ending humiliation his service to Merlin had brought him with patient stoicism. But now he rose shakily to his feet and gazed around himself. He saw the world with new eyes, and it looked totally different. And a heck of a lot smaller.

"Do you like it?" He jumped, startled, and whirled around. He looked up into the eyes of a strange, tall woman. Even with his strange new vision he could tell that she was incredibly beautiful, but there was something cold about her. She was stately and graceful with silver hair that fell nearly to her ankles and eyes that were so dark they appeared to be nearly solid black, even more striking against her paper white skin. She was clothed in garments as silver as her hair; they seemed to give off light as she moved. She smiled faintly at his wondering expression. She held up her arms and a full-length mirror shimmered into existence in front of her. He felt no real alarm at the appearance of the mirror; he was accustomed to magic and illusions through his years with Merlin. She was clearly a sorceress of some sort, and quite powerful. Thoughts on the subject swiftly gave way to fascination as he gazed into the mirror and got his first real look at himself.

He was nearly as tall as she was, with white blonde hair and skin even paler than that of the strange woman. He was so fair, in fact, that he might have seemed to have no pigment at all if not for his eyes, which were a deep blue. He smiled faintly, marveling at the look of it on his face.

"It's...nice. I look nice?" The woman lowered her arms and the mirror vanished. She smiled and nodded in answer to his question, but he was too struck by the sound of his own voice to notice. He had never heard his own voice before. The warm tenor of it sent a shiver up his spine. "You did this? It's a much more powerful magic than Merlin ever did." Her smile broadened and he was happy that he seemed to have pleased the silver lady.

"Yes, it certainly is. You've been set free, my child."

"Free?" he frowned in puzzlement. "What about Merlin?" Her features grew tight with anger and he instinctively shrank back in fear. There was much he didn't understand, but he knew instinctively that angering the silver lady was extremely dangerous.

"You need never worry about him again. You are free to live your life as you see fit...but I would like to ask you a small favor, before you do." He almost wept in relief. To be free was an incredibly scary proposition. He had always served some master or another. If he was no longer to serve Merlin, he would serve the beautiful silver lady and he would serve her well.

"Of course, mistress. You have freed me from Merlin, and I am your servant." She smiled at him, pleased.

"It is an inconsequential matter, I assure you. I wish you to journey to a town in California called Sunnydale." At his sudden panicked look, she patted him on the shoulder reassuringly. "Do not fret, my dear child, I will make certain you have all the knowledge you need to survive in this world. Once you get to Sunnydale, you will make the acquaintance of a woman there by the name of Anya. Then you will await my instructions, and you will not leave Sunnydale until you do. Once I contact you, and you have completed your task, you may go anywhere you wish."

"I will do as you ask, mistress," he pledged fervently.

"Yes, I know you will." If he had been able to distinguish such things, he might have been concerned by her ironic tone.

"Have you a name, mistress? That I might call you?"

"Call me Ostara." He sketched a deep bow, as he had seen Merlin do numerous times, and nearly fell over from the unaccustomed shift in his balance. He stood, his face flushing as she covered her mouth so as not to laugh at him outright. He felt foolish asking the next question, but he was genuinely unsure of the answer.

"Mistress Ostara...what do I call me?" She smiled at him and motioned him forward, putting a parental arm around his shoulders. Despite her affectionate manner, he found himself shivering again at her touch.

"Your name is Caspar...let's find you some clothes, my child." Caspar nodded, relieved to have an identity, and matched his stride to his mistress. He had no idea what clothes were, or why they needed to find them, but he trusted that things would be made clear soon. His mistress had told him he would have the knowledge he needed to serve her, and he had faith in his mistress. He had no one else.

Unseen by her new servant, Ostara smiled to herself, her mouth twisted and cruel. *Soon, Anyanka. Soon I will be avenged, and the suffering you are enduring now will seem like the merest pinprick relative to the agony I will deliver to you.*

*****