Fic: The Wolf Within (3/?)

[Erin <erin@xxxxxxxxxxx>]

I want to thank everyone again for all the positive feedback y'all
have been giving me with this story. I hope you like it.

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, none. Just ask, I'd love to say yes.
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 Third

The werewolf, Nichole, carefully moved her hands palms outward, in a
gesture of calm. She looked past Buffy to Willow, and growled, "I'm
going to try to shift back to Homid, but I don't want her to get the
idea that I'm trying something. Can you distract her until I'm done?"

Buffy heard the growling, snarling noises that the beast was making,
and was surprised when she saw Willow nodding in response. Willow
tugged a little harder on Buffy's stake arm, and said, "Please, Buffy,
look at me. I appreciate you defending me, but I'm not in any danger.
I've been talking to Nichole, here--"

"Nichole?" Buffy looked at Willow skeptically. "Are you trying to
tell me this...this _thing_...has a name?"

She was startled a moment later when she heard a voice from the other
side of the room. "Yes, I have a name, and my name is Nichole.
Nichole Thompson, actually, late of Humboldt County, California."
Buffy whirled around to face the creature -- who was now not a
creature at all, but a young, black-haired woman. Buffy involuntarily
took a step back. Eight foot tall monsters she could deal with, she
was used to that; but eight foot tall monsters who were actually
polite, young women threw her for a loop.

The Slayer shook her head slightly, clearing it. She fixed Nichole
and Willow with a cold, flat gaze; after her previous discomfiture,
now she was all business. "I think you had better tell me what's
going on," she said, crossing her arms in front of her chest.

Willow recognized her friend's reaction. When Buffy got thrown off
balance, she tended to hide her weakness by overcompensating in what
Willow called "Super Slayer Mode." Willow looked downcast. She hoped
that her news wouldn't be too much for her friend to handle. She
didn't know what would happen to her if Buffy chose to cut her out of
her life.

Nichole took a step forward, and realized her mistake when she saw
Buffy's eyes narrow. Holding up her hands in a peaceful gesture, she
said, "Well, you probably already guessed this, but I'm a werewolf.
Garou, actually, is our word for it. I'm actually a very peaceful
person, and don't wish to do harm to either you or your friend."

Buffy gave Nichole a hard look. "Yeah, you looked real peaceful when
I came in a minute ago." She spared a glance for Willow, who was
standing a couple of feet away looking miserable. "Will? Did you know
about this?"

Willow dropped her gaze, and said quietly, "I...I just found out."
Her head drooped, and her hair covered her face.

Buffy looked at her friend. Sunlight was streaming in from a small,
high window, and was highlighting Willow's hair a deep red. Deep
red... Suddenly, a look of comprehension snapped across Buffy's face.
Before anyone could react, she covered the distance between herself
and Willow and lifted her shirt a few inches, revealing the pale scar
on Willow's right side. It had faded even more than when Willow saw
it this morning, but it was still plainly recognizable.

"It was _you_," Buffy said bitterly, dropping the shirt and taking a
step back.

Willow winced at the betrayed look she was getting from her friend.
"Buffy," she reached out toward the Slayer, only to watch brokenly as
her friend took another step back. "Buffy, I didn't know..."

The Slayer whirled around, facing Nichole. "You did this to her! You
turned her into a monster!" She jabbed the stake in Nichole's
direction, punctuating each sentence.

Nichole gave the blonde a sympathetic look, and shook her head. "This
isn't something that was done to her, this is who she is. She has
been Garou since birth, but only now has it chosen to manifest itself.
She has no choice; if she doesn't learn what it means, she will never
be at peace with herself."

Buffy glanced back at Willow, and her broken-hearted expression
touched something deep in the Slayer. She'd give up her right arm
before she'd hurt Willow, but...she wasn't sure if she even knew
Willow anymore.

Unshed tears filled Willow's eyes, and she swallowed harshly.
"Buffy..." Her voice broke on the name. She tried again. "Buffy...I
don't know what's going on. I don't know what to think anymore. I
just know that I need your help." She dropped heavily to her knees,
her legs no longer able to support her. She whispered, "I can't do
this alone."

Seeing Willow drop to the ground, something snapped inside Buffy.
Damn it! She thought savagely. This is still Willow, this is still my
best friend. She ran over to where Willow knelt, and put her arms
around her. Immediately, her friend dissolved into harsh sobs. "Shh,
it's ok," Buffy said, stroking her friend's hair. "It'll be ok.
You're not alone, I'm here." With some difficulty, she struggled to
overcome her aversion to the black-haired young woman. Looking at
Nichole, she said quietly, "You can help her?"

The woman nodded confidently, and stayed silent.

Buffy sat comforting Willow for several long moments; finally, the
redhead stopped crying. Buffy pulled Willow to her feet, and helped
support her friend. Willow felt much better now that she knew that
Buffy wouldn't freeze her out. Buffy continued, never breaking eye
contact with the black-haired werewolf. "Ok, then. On one condition.
We take you to talk to our friend, Giles."

* * *

Nichole looked around at Willow and her friends with amusement. When
she had agreed to talk to their friend Giles she figured that he must
be some kind of mentor to the girl; she wasn't wrong, but she noted
that Giles was almost childlike in his enthusiasm when he was
presented with new information.

She had told them everything about Garou that she felt they could
handle at the moment; about how the werewolves considered themselves
to be the guardians of the Earth, the defenders of Gaia. About how
the werewolves themselves mainly fought on the side of good; she tried
to reassure them that just because Willow was a werewolf didn't mean
that she would turn into a ravening monster. Giles, in particular,
was fascinated by her admission that "werewolves", meaning the
creatures of legend, did not exist.

"So, if this is correct," Giles said, pacing excitedly across the
floor, "all the information that the Watcher's Council has gathered on
werewolves is nothing but half-truths and wives' tales?"

Nichole smiled. "Basically." She sat forward, her expression
sobering. "For Willow's sake, you can't pass this information on to
them. They would want to hunt her, and study her, and discover all
they could about the Garou. There are few enough of us already; if
Humankind in general knew that we existed..." She trailed off, with a
shudder. "We would easily be wiped out." The somber faces regarding
her were proof enough that they took her words seriously.

"What do I do now?" The soft question interrupted their thoughts, and
they turned to look at Willow, who had a very lost expression.

Buffy went to her friend and sat down next to her, wrapping her arm
around Willow's shoulders. "What do you want to do? You know, Will,
you know enough about how to control the changing thing. You don't
need to go any further if you don't want to."

Willow looked at Nichole. Nichole nodded in agreement, and added,
"What your friend says is very true. If you wish, I can teach you
more about your heritage, but the choice is up to you."

"I want to learn."

* * *

Kraxthus strode through the dank sewer tunnels quickly. He shivered
at the thought of having to bring his lord this news, but his duty
overrode his fear. He entered a large, dank chamber lit by huge
braziers emitting a noxious green flame. He immediately dropped to
his knees, and waited to be recognized.

"Kraxthus." He heard the low, drawling voice of his lord speaking to
him. He looked up at the huge, black werewolf sitting on a raised
dais.

Thraxuil, also known by the name Eater-of-Children, was a vicious,
imposing figure. Green light shone deep within his eyes, reflecting
the insanity that dwelled within. His body was criss-crossed with
hairless scars, which almost gave him a tattooed appearance. "Have
you come to give me good news, Theurge?"

Kraxthus swallowed nervously, and replied, "My lord. I have spoken
with the Spirit Banes. They have brought me news of a Garou who has
undergone First Change."

Thraxuil smiled wickedly. Though he was widely known for his insanity
and erratic behavior, he was a strong werewolf with a deep cunning.
That was one of the things that made him dangerous, Kraxthus realized.
The werewolf stepped down off the dais and stood in front of a
kneeling Kraxthus. He smiled, and offered his huge hand to assist him
in rising to his feet. Kraxthus took the proffered hand, knowing that
he didn't dare refuse.

"And have we 'retrieved' this Garou?"

Kraxthus winced inwardly. "No, my lord. She is currently being
protected by a Child of Gaia."

Still holding Kraxthus' hand, Thraxuil brought his other hand down
upon the man's forearm, snapping it in half. Kraxthus stifled a
scream, and once again dropped to his knees.

The green flame leapt in Thraxuil's eyes. "Then we will have to send
someone to retrieve her." He dropped Kraxthus' hand, and turned to
walk up the dais. "Since I have walked the Black Spiral, do you know
how many times I have failed the Wyrm?"

Kraxthus choked out, "None, my lord."

"None!" Thraxuil roared. "It will not start now." Abruptly, he waved
his hand dismissively. "Leave me."

Kraxthus rose and bowed, backing out of the chamber. Once he left, he
shifted forms into the Crinos, hoping that it would help his arm heal
more quickly. He was lucky to have left the chamber with such minor
injuries, he thought, glancing back at the several large, fur pelts
that decorated the chamber.

* * *

Buffy walked through the graveyard, feet crunching the dry leaves
scattered across the thick grass. She looked at her friend walking
next to her; Willow's face was a mixture of fear and apprehension.

"You don't have to do this, you know," Buffy said, laying a comforting
hand on Willow's shoulder.

Willow swallowed nervously. "I know... But Nichole said that if I
didn't get some of this worked out of my system I might just change
anyway, like I did last night." She looked up at the full moon, a
pale disc illuminating the ground below.

Buffy nodded. "Well, be careful--" She began, and froze as she
noticed three vampires approaching them from the side.

"Well, look what we have here," the head vampire said, with a cocksure
attitude. "Almost enough to go around." His companions laughed, a
laughter which died on their undead lips when Buffy whipped out a
wooden stake.

"Hi guys, maybe you know who I am? If not, you're going to find out,"
she said, readying herself for combat.

"It's the Slayer! Get her!" the lead vampire yelled, and his
companions leapt at Buffy, trying to bring her down.

"'Get her'? How original," Buffy replied, leveling one vampire with a
kick to the midsection. The other vampire got a hold of her, though,
and dragged her down to the ground where they grappled for the wooden
stake.

Willow felt her heart beating about a thousand times a minute. This
is it, she thought; but she almost couldn't will herself to move.
Concentrate, dammit! Buffy needs you! Willow closed her eyes, and
visualized her eight foot Crinos form, complete down to every detail.
She felt a lurch as her bones and muscles changed, adapting to the
new, heavier form. When she opened her eyes again she looked down on
the vampires like they were squabbling children.

The lead vampire's jaw dropped as he saw the young, slight redhead
change into a monstrous beast that even _he_ couldn't imagine in his
wildest nightmares. The creature let out a howl that was pure rage,
and to the vampire's horror, leapt straight at him! He held up his
hands, shielding his face in a futile gesture.

The werewolf sank all the claws on her left hand deep into the
vampire's chest. Raising her hand, she lifted the vampire right off
of his feet. The vampire dropped his arms in shock, and Willow took
that opportunity to wrap one powerful hand around his neck. Flexing
her muscles, she literally tore the vampire's head from his shoulders,
reducing him to dust.

Buffy had dispatched the other two with relative ease. She looked at
the creature -- Willow, she reminded herself -- uneasily. Willow's
form shimmered, and in just a moment she was standing there, looking
pretty much the same as she always did.

Willow leapt up and down, excitedly. "I did it!" She yelled, and ran
over, grabbing Buffy in a bearhug. "I really did it!"

Buffy smiled, Willow's enthusiasm not quite easing her mind. "Yeah,
Will, you sure did." She made a conscious effort to sound as
supportive and encouraging as possible. "You sure did."

* * *

Gregory Hartwell checked his Rolex. 12:37 a.m. Perfect. He rose,
and straightened the blazer of his Armani suit. He spared a quick
glance around the wood-paneled boardroom before speaking. "I call the
monthly meeting of the Los Angeles Glass Walkers to order. Michelle,
we'll dispense with the Roll Call, just mark down who is present. Do
we have any Old Business?"

Michelle looked at the minutes. "I believe the only Old Business we
have is that of the chemical waste dump in the Valley."

Hartwell nodded. "Pete, have you made any headway there?"

Peter Grisham stood, and opened a folder in front of him. "Thanks to
some timely pressure from the EPA, Environ Oil has been forced to
clean up the site completely, or face huge fines. Thanks to some
falsified computer records," his face lit up in a fierce grin, "we had
no problem convincing the EPA that Environ was responsible." He sat
down again.

Hartwell smiled approvingly. "Good. Those bastards thought they had
covered their tracks... No one messes with Gaia in my city. Shall we
move on to new business?" The motion was seconded, and Hartwell
called for new business.

Chris Maxwell, a young, ambitious Glass Walker signaled that he wished
to speak. Though Chris was only 20 years old, he already had double
Bachelor's Degrees in Computer Science and Business. He was bright;
bright enough to be made Vice President of Software Development in
Hartwell's corporation. Even if he wasn't already Garou, Hartwell
thought, he'd still make formidable Kinfolk. He signaled for the
young man to stand.

"It has been brought to my attention that just recently a young Garou
has undergone her First Change. I believe this Lost Cub is one of
ours." Chris paused, and waited for the murmurs to die down. "Some
of you probably still remember the Rosenberg Kinfolk..."

Hartwell nodded. "They moved to that suburb, Sunnydale, about twenty
years ago. But if it was one of theirs, we should have been
notified."

Chris shook his head. "The spirits that were watching them were
eliminated, killed by agents of the Wyrm."

"Black Spirals," Hartwell said, his voice low and vicious.

"Yes, Black Spirals. Almost all of the spirits watching Kinfolk in
Sunnydale have been eliminated, a long time ago. That place is a
hotbed of Wyrm activity; there's a dark Caern, a sacred site there
that they call the Hellmouth. It has been closed for years, but it
calls to all sorts of corrupt creatures. There may be other Lost Cubs
there, but I know for sure of one by the name of Willow Rosenberg."

Hartwell stood and walked to the window, looking out over the bright
city below. "The Glass Walker tribe has flourished, even though our
brethren in other tribes are faltering. Even so, every cub is
precious to us." He turned, and faced the assembled Garou. "Chris,
you must go to Sunnydale and find this Lost Cub. She is one of ours,
she belongs with our tribe. And if Wyrm activity in the area is as
heavy as you believe it is, the Black Spirals may already know of her
existence. She needs protection."

Hartwell returned to his place at the head of the conference table.
"Visit with Human Resources tomorrow, and sign the paperwork for your
vacation. There will be extra stock options in your future if you
succeed. Unless anyone has any more business, I'll declare this
meeting adjourned."

END Part 3

Erin
-- 
"I question the stability of a company whose future depends on 
Microsoft programs being intelligent. I don't question the idea 
that Office Assistants are the most advanced Microsoft technology."
-- Joel Ray "Piquan" Holveck 
*email: erin@xxxxxxxxxxx