Fic: The Wolf Within (11/?)

[Erin <erin@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

Ok, here it is, the long awaited Part 11. Hope you enjoy, and that it
keeps you from doing your homework. :)


TITLE: The Wolf Within
AUTHOR: Erin (erin@xxxxxxxxxxx)
SPOILERS: None, really.
RATING: PG-13 at worst, because of some violence. It is a
Buffy/Willow fic, so if that bothers you, or it's illegal to even
think of a Slayer and a Witch getting it on, then just don't read it.
Or move.
DISCLAIMER: Buffy the Vampire Slayer and all characters belong to Joss
Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and Fox. I'm just borrowing them for a bit.
I'll put them back when I'm done, no worse for wear (but maybe a
little happier). Most of the werewolf stuff is copyright White Wolf,
such as Garou, Crinos, Child of Gaia, Glass Walker, etc.
ARCHIVE: Currently, I believe my stories are being archived at the
following places:
Kim's Corner - 
http://www.fortunecity.com/village/villageplace/93/
Bill's Page -
http://members.spree.com/entertainment/kerrison29/default.htm
Gary's BtVS Fanfiction -
http://psycho.simplenet.com/fanfiction/index.mv?index+buf
Please let me know if I've left someone out, or if one of the URLs is
in error. Anyone who isn't listed here who wants to archive my
stories is welcome to, just let me know so I can add you to the list.
Thanks.
FEEDBACK: Constructive comments are encouraged.
SUMMARY: (Buffy/Willow) Willow discovers that there is more to her
than meets the eye, and it could tear her life apart.

Part the Eleventh

The black Range Rover sped down the road, its occupants enjoying the
comfort only afforded by a high-price SUV. Or, at least, they would
be if they could be said to be enjoying themselves at all.

"For the last time, no, there is no way you're playing that Arlo
Guthrie crap on my stereo," Chris growled, taking a right turn a bit
too quickly.

Nichole grabbed onto the door handle to try to keep herself upright.
"And you would rather listen to that...that..."

"Techno, yes, I would. My car, my stereo, my music," he replied,
irritably. He glanced over at Nichole, his smile sardonic. "Get
yourself a VW van with an 8-track and a tie-dye paint job, and you can
play whatever music you want."

"You never had a problem with my music when we were in college,"
Nichole grumbled.

"Only because I always got stoned before I had to listen to it," Chris
replied, pleasantly.

Nichole opened her mouth, prepared to deliver a blistering retort,
when Chris pointed straight ahead. "Looks like the lovebirds are here
already."

Buffy and Willow stood outside the Dream of Gaia, waiting patiently.
Chris had called them that morning, and told them that he had received
the manacles from Los Angeles. They arranged to meet at the Dream of
Gaia so that they could discuss tactics.

Chris parked the car and he and Nichole jumped out, Nichole with a
FedEx box under her arm.

"Morning!" The Child of Gaia said, cheerfully. "I see the two of you
are looking well." She winked briefly at Willow before unlocking the
door.

Willow blushed slightly, and replied, "Um, yeah."

"No thanks to Mr. Cheapskate's travel arrangements," Buffy replied
sardonically, with a glance in Chris's direction.

Chris shrugged. "Take it up with Accounting," he replied with a small
smile. "I'm a werewolf, not a sugar daddy. By the way, where's
Giles?"

Buffy shook her head. "I don't even want to know why you made that
connection," she said. "He went back to his house to check on
things." The four friends entered the store, locking the door
securely behind them.

* * *

Giles stepped over the ruins of his front door, grimacing at the mess
left by some nightly visitor. There was little actual damage done to
any of his belongings, but whoever searched the house last night
wasn't tidy. The ex-watcher slowly righted a small table, stacking
the cordless phone and the base unit on top.

"Where is she?"

The strained, gravelly voice startled Giles, and he turned slowly
toward the source. Oz stood in the hallway leading to Willow's room,
his already short frame hunched over, as if in pain. His eyes burned
with unhealthy obsession.

"Where is she?"

His voice was louder now, and Giles noticed Oz's body beginning to
shake. "N-now Oz," he said, in what he hoped was a soothing voice,
"she-she's not here." He began inching his way slowly toward the open
doorway.

"WHERE IS SHE!"

Oz took a step forward now, his hands clenching and unclenching. His
form began growing, slight limbs covering over with fur and knotted
muscle.

Giles turned and started running.

* * *

"They look like handcuffs." Buffy looked at the manacles, turning
them over in her hands. "Are you sure this will hold a werewolf?"
The only things that seemingly distinguished the manacles from a
regular pair of handcuffs were the etched runes that decorated the
sides. That, and the fact that the manacles were made of pure silver.

Chris nodded. "They're what we call a fetish, an item that is fused
together with a spirit to imbue it with power. Stick those puppies on
a werewolf, even in Crinos form, and he'll instantly turn to Homid.
They grow or shrink to match the form the werewolf wears, and they're
stronger than they look."

"I hope so," Buffy replied. She looked over the manacles one last
time, and then stuck them in her jacket pocket. "It's my guess that
Oz will go right for Willow when he sees her, making her the bait in
this trap. Sorry, Will," Buffy said, with an apologetic look at the
redhead.

Willow shrugged with a resigned sigh. "It's got to be done, I mean,
I'm the one who wants to help him," she replied quietly. Buffy placed
a comforting hand on her shoulder, and Willow reached up and entwined
Buffy's fingers with her own. She drew strength from the contact,
strength she knew she would need before the day was out.

"Ok, when Oz goes after Willow, I use the distraction to get in there
and slap the cuffs on him. Seems straightforward enough," Buffy
finished.

"What do we do with him when we've got him?" Nichole said,
uncertainly. "I mean, he's dangerous, even assuming we can keep him
under control, it won't be easy."

Buffy tightened her grip on Willow's hand unconsciously. "We'll just
have to find that Gurahl werebear and get back as quick as possible."

"So, it sounds like the only thing left to do is track down Oz," Chris
said, looking around the room for agreement.

* * *

Giles had almost reached the open doorway when he felt a large, clawed
hand with a grip of steel grab the back of his neck, wrenching him
backward. How can something that big move that fast, he thought
wildly before crashing into the recently-uprighted table. Giles
looked up into the mad eyes of the Black Spiral Dancer.

"You tell me," the werewolf said slowly, wrapping his hand around
Giles' throat, "where she is."

Giles felt himself hoisted aloft, dangling from the werewolf's massive
paw. His hands clutched futilely at the Dancer's arm, trying to
relieve some of the pressure on his throat. At this rate, he thought,
he wouldn't be able to tell Oz even if he wanted to. The ex-watcher
felt himself growing increasingly light-headed.

Some part of Oz's brain that was still rational must've realized that
Giles could never talk if he were being choked. He dropped Giles to
the floor, where the older man took in great gulps of air. "I-I don't
know where she is," he gasped, "but I can get her to come here."

"Do it." Oz snarled.

* * *

"These Black Spiral Dancers seem to be a little more comfortable
coming out at night, than during the day, right?" Buffy asked, looking
to the more experienced Garou for confirmation. Nichole nodded back
at her. "Ok, then, so maybe Willow and I should go on patrol tonight,
as usual. If Oz shows up, we try to subdue him the best we can."
Chris's cell phone rang, and she briefly glanced over at him as he
walked over to the corner of the room to answer it.

"Do you think we'll be able to do this without hurting him?" Willow
asked. Her voice begged for reassurance from the more experienced
Slayer.

"Giles, what's going on?" The urgency in Chris's voice caused the room
to fall into deathly silence.

"Tell Willow that she needs to come to my house. It's very important
that she gets here as soon as possible. Pull her out of Dance class
if you need to." The call cut off before Chris could ask Giles what
he meant.

"What's wrong?" Buffy asked.

Chris frowned. "That was Giles. He needs Willow to go over to his
house right away."

Willow glanced at Buffy, puzzled. "Think he found out something?"

Buffy shrugged. "Possible, though I didn't think he had any research
planned."

Chris cocked his head to one side, favoring Willow with a quizzical
look. "I didn't know you had a Dance class."

* * *

Willow stepped across the remains of Giles' front door, her eyes
adjusting quickly to the lack of sunlight indoors. What she saw made
her freeze.

Giles was sitting in a straight-backed chair, his arms rigidly at his
sides. Behind him stood Oz, in full Crinos werewolf form, one hand
wrapped securely around Giles' neck, the other hand resting on the top
of the ex-watcher's head.

Willow swallowed nervously. "Oz, please don't do this..." She forced
herself to take a small step forward.

"Are you alone?" Oz said, his growls and snarls understandable by
Willow alone. "If you brought anyone with you, I might just have to
snap his neck like a twig." He tightened the grip he held on Giles'
head, and laughed shrilly.

Willow shook her head. "I came alone. I was looking for you."

"LIAR!" Oz roared, letting go of Giles and taking a step toward the
redhead. "I came for you last night, and you were gone! You weren't
here!"

Willow's eyes shifted nervously, his sudden movement startling her.
"I-I was afraid, Oz. But I realized this morning that I needed to
talk to you, to see you. That's why I'm here, that's why I came
alone. I want to help you."

Oz took another, shuffling step toward her. He held out his hands to
the young woman. "I don't need help, I only need you. Now that we're
together, we can go back to the caern. There are a lot of people
there who want to meet you." He grinned, his eyes lighting up with
madness. "You'll enjoy serving the Wyrm."

Willow involuntarily took a half step backward. "Oz, you don't have
to work for the Wyrm. I can help you--"

"No!" He growled, lurching forward and grabbing Willow's arms. "The
Wyrm wants you--" He stopped, sniffing the air suddenly. He whipped
his head around, looking toward where Giles sat. But Giles was no
longer there; Buffy was.

"Sorry Oz-man," Buffy said. She stood next to the empty chair, and
began walking slowly, circling the werewolf. "We couldn't let you do
it."

"YOU LIED TO ME!" Oz roared, turning back to fix Willow with a
hate-filled stare.  

Willow immediately shifted into Crinos, breaking Oz's grip on her
arms. "You're not the only werewolf here, Oz. And I'll never serve
the Wyrm."

Oz backed up a step, trying to keep both Buffy and Willow in his view.
Something about Buffy's scent puzzled him, though, something which
smelled awfully like...

He froze suddenly and looked at Willow, his eyes practically glowing
with green balefire. "You..." He spat out the word as if it were a
curse. "You and she are...are mates."

Willow glanced over at a puzzled Buffy, who had been unable to
understand the Garou language. "Oz..."

Oz fixed his gaze on the Slayer. "You took her from me," he said, his
voice deadly quiet. "You stole her from me!" He roared, bursting into
a frenzy of action. He leapt at the surprised Slayer who fell back
and brought her feet up, tossing Oz off of her with a heave of her
legs. She fumbled in her jacket pocket, and readied the manacles in
her hand.

Oz twisted in midair, landing in a crouch. He immediately sprang
again and this time landed a solid punch to Buffy's stomach, sending
her flying back into the upended furniture. The manacles flew out of
her hand, sliding across the hardwood floor.

He was on her in a second. "You...will...die...slowly..." he said,
punctuating each word with heavy punches that Buffy was barely able to
absorb. Dizzily, she dropped her arms, no longer able to lift them to
protect herself.

Oz pulled back his fist, ready to drive it into Buffy's skull.
Suddenly, he felt his wrist grabbed from behind. He pulled against
the grip, only to find that it was like iron, slowly pulling his arm
back. He roared, and looked up at his attacker.

Willow stood above him, grabbing his other wrist with her other hand,
and began pulling that one back as well. She planted a knee with
bone-jarring force into the small of his back, and began pulling his
arms back until he screamed with the pain of tendons and joints pulled
to their limit. His pain-filled eyes met Willow's rage-filled ones.

"You ever, ever touch her again, and I will rip your arms out and beat
you to death," she said, her voice at once cold and furious. She felt
a small, human hand on her shoulder, and she stiffened.

"Do you still want to capture him?" Chris asked, quietly. He held the
manacles that Buffy had dropped, though he seemed reluctant to stop
Willow from killing the young Black Spiral.

Willow took a deep breath, feeling the Rage drain out of her. Seeing
Oz threaten Buffy like that had triggered something deep inside her,
the Rage that Chris and Nichole had told her about. She wasn't
fighting for the safety of mankind, or Gaia; she was fighting for
Buffy, the woman she loved, and it touched something so primal that
she didn't even know it existed.

She nodded sharply, and after a small hesitation, Chris snapped the
manacle on Oz's wrist.

Immediately, his form shifted back to that of the young man Oz was,
and maybe could be again. Chris took Oz's arms from Willow's grasp,
and handcuffed them behind his back. His head drooped, overcome by
the calming, weakening magick of the fetish. Chris dragged him over
to the side of the room, rather ungently.

Willow dropped next to Buffy, shifting back to human form as she did
so. "Buffy?" She asked, her voice shaking.

Buffy opened her eyes and smiled slightly. "Yep, that's me," she
said, holding on to Willow's hand.

"I'm so sorry," Willow said, her eyes shedding bright tears. "I would
have never...If I'd known you would get hurt...It's not worth it..."

Buffy smiled, and squeezed Willow's hand. "It's ok, Will. He just
knocked the wind out of me." She felt her ribs, pressing them with
tentative fingers. "Couple of cracked ribs maybe, some bruises.
Nothing that won't heal in a few days."

Willow let out a breath she wasn't aware of holding. "Oh, God, Buffy,
what if..." She began, tears running unchecked down her face.

"Shh," Buffy said, pushing herself up. She brushed her fingers gently
across Willow's cheeks, wiping away her tears. "Shh, it's ok, Will.
It's over, we got him, no real harm done. You can't think about what
may have happened, ok, because there's no point. Everyone's fine,
except for maybe Oz, who almost got his arms ripped out of their
sockets. I didn't realize you would go all Terminator, Will." Buffy
grinned at her friend.

Willow smiled in return. "I...I couldn't let him hurt you," she said
simply.

"Just one of the many reasons why I love you," Buffy replied, raising
Willow's hand to her lips. Willow blushed, and squeezed Buffy's hand
a little tighter.

Nichole cleared her throat. "Everyone ok here?" she asked, Giles
standing behind her.

"Everyone's just peachy keen here," Buffy responded, wincing as she
tested sore muscles.

"I can probably do something to help those bruises," Nichole said,
helping Buffy and Willow to stand. "If you'll let me, I can heal you
much the same way I did Willow."

"I wouldn't say no," Buffy agreed. She glanced over to where Oz sat,
watched over like a hawk by Chris. "So what now?"

"Chris is taking Oz to a 'safe house' that his 'syndicate' owns here
in Sunnydale," Nichole replied, her distaste for the Glass Walker's
methods evident. "Then we'll need to meet, and plan your trip."

"Yes, well," Giles said, cleaning his glasses with a handkerchief.
"You don't suppose we could fit 'returning my home to a proper
semblance of order' in there anywhere, could we?"

END Part 11


--
Tara: "I am, you know."
Willow: "What?"
Tara: "Yours."
----------
"So Willow's not driving stick anymore. Who would've thought?"
-- Faith
*email: erin@xxxxxxxxxxx