This is my disclaimer. Witness me disclaiming. I do not anything in this story. It all belongs to Joss, Mutant Enemy, and all the other high muckey-mucks. There are not even any original characters.
Part Two
That afternoon, Oz sat in his apartment, absentmindedly strumming his guitar and wondering if he would ever know the truth about those three nights. Maybe he was just being paranoid, but he felt certain there was something that was going on that Willow was afraid to tell him about. What it was though.... The doorbell interrupted his ponderings, and for a brief moment, he wondered if Willow was early, until he remembered Buffy. "Just a second!" he called out, carefully laying aside the guitar in his case. "Buffy?"
"No," came her familiar voice through the door. "It's the Werewolf Slayer. I heard there might be one around here; you know anything about it?"
"Oh, ha ha," said Oz sourly as he opened the door. "You should take that on the road."
"Sor-reeee. I was just trying to lighten the mood. You can feel the gloom out in the hallway. I'll just grab the keys and leave you to your moping."
Oz took a deep breath and tried to shake off his feelings of anger. "'Sokay. Just let me find the keys. Willow drove home this morning and I'm not sure where she put them." As he hunted across the various surfaces of the apartment, it suddenly occurred to him that as the mistress of all things boogedy boogedy, Buffy was the right person to ask for information, and maybe, help.
"I'm sorry I snapped at you, Buffy. I'm just not in a joking mood right now."
"Don't worry. I get kind of sensitive about what I am too, sometimes. It's not like either one of us asked for this. You don't know how many times I've wished I'd never heard of vampires or demons, and just had my old life in LA back."
"Probably about the same number of times I've wished I'd never heard of werewolves." He paused, and took a deep breath. "Can I ask you something?"
"Shoot."
"What do I look like, you know when I'm...different?"
"Aw geez, I only saw you the one time, and it was pretty dark. Big and hairy with very large teeth is the best I can do."
"Do I stand on two feet or four?"
"I only saw you on two feet, and shouldn't you be asking Willow all this? What brought it on? I thought after almost a year you were more or less adjusted."
"I am," Oz responded a little too quickly. "Well, mostly, anyway," he amended, seeing the look on Buffy's face. "But I'm worried about Willow. She took on a big responsibility when she agreed to help me, and I think it's starting to get to her. She always looks like she's been crying the next morning. And I've tried to ask her, but she doesn't want to talk about it. She just says there's nothing I need to worry about."
Buffy considered what he had said. It had been increasingly obvious to her over the last few months that something was wrong. Oz had become increasingly withdrawn and irritable, and Willow, well, Willow dragged herself through the three nights in question like a woman with a curse of her own. She phrased her response to Oz's question carefully. "I wouldn't worry about Willow. She's a lot tougher than she looks. Heck, she's taken you down before. I'll tell you what though. I can't do it tonight, but I'll volunteer to sit you tomorrow. She may not accept my help, but at least I can try to get her talking on the subject. Maybe I'll learn something." Then, in fairness to the desperate hope in his eyes, she felt obliged to add "I can't promise I will find anything out, or I'll be able to tell you though."
"Of course," Oz said bitterly. "Everyone gets to know more about my problem than I do. And why is that exactly?"
"Because as long as you're safe, and not out hunting down people, and can't remember it anyway... Okay, sucky reason. But I'm sure that's what Willow's thinking. She doesn't want to upset you."
"Secrecy upsets me," he said firmly, handing her the keys.
Buffy looked at him again, and recognized the frustration and anger in his eyes. *It's time to face this head on,* she thought. "Okay, I'll talk to her tonight after Angel and I finish up. I promise. Thanks again for the van. I'll leave the keys with Willow tonight." When Oz didn't say anything, she put her hand on his shoulder and made eye contact. "Really, Oz, I promise. You can trust me. We each have something to hide."
Oz felt oddly comforted and decided to leave it up to her. "Okay. See you tomorrow."
"Tomorrow, when I know something."
* * *
It was after midnight when Angel, Giles and Buffy finally finished unloading the last of the material from the old mansion. There had proven quite a bit more than they had realized, and that was even after leaving behind unimportant items, such as Drusilla's dolls. It had taken three trips to get it all, and Buffy's eyes were watering from all the dust.
"Put that crate in the corner by the stairs," Giles directed. "Those are books I want to go through as soon as possible; there are some titles I've never heard of before."
"Hey, Giles, do you think there's anything in here that could help Oz?" Buffy asked, remembering her conversation.
"Possibly. One or two might be promising by the title. Why? Once I told him there was no recorded cure, other than to kill his cousin and eat his heart, he seemed to lose interest in any more research. I didn't think he's interested in learning a great deal about it, to tell you the truth."
"Cure for what? Learn about what?" Angel interrupted, looking perplexed.
"Lycanthropy," Giles answered.
"Lycan... Oz is a werewolf? Since when?"
"It happened while you were...away," Buffy told him, uncomfortable talking about anything that would bring up those six horrible months. "It's been almost a year now, and I think it's starting to wear on him. He's gotten very testy lately when before he was Mr. Cool. Never lost his temper." Buffy studied the expression on Angel's face. "Do you know anything that could help?"
Angel nodded. "I've run into a few here and there. Now that I think about it, I think I've even seen Oz before." Unbidden, the memory came back, in vivid detail. The sweet taste of Theresa's blood. The perverted joy of Angelus as he thought about how the Slayer would react to his little "gift". He pushed it away with great effort. "Under very specific circumstances, vampires have the ability to control werewolves, so they generally steer clear of us--to avoid becoming housebroken."
Buffy carefully set aside the mental image of Angel laying out newspaper. "I'm not so sure Oz wouldn't mind being housebroken. He's locked up in the basement right now with Willow and a tranquilizer gun. I promised him I'd stop in later; you want to join me?"
"Sure. We're about done here, right Giles?"
Giles, having already lost himself in one of the new books, looked up absent-mindedly at the sound of his name. "Wha...? Yes. You two go on. Check on Willow and Oz. I'll see if I can find anything for him in any of the new books."
Buffy and Angel left and headed towards the stairs to the basement. In the few months since Angel had returned from the other side, he and Buffy had generally avoided each other, and many things remained unsaid between them. But they had managed, by common unspoken consent, to preserve a few shreds of the working relationship they had once shared. The rest would wait until they were ready to deal with it.
The minute they opened the door to the stairs, they heard thrashing and howling from below. They looked at each other, and ran down the steps, to find an incredible scene unfolding. Oz, or what Oz had turned into, was struggling furiously against his restraints and crashing around the cage, snarling and growling the whole time. Willow was sitting on a cot outside the cage, arms wrapped around her legs, sobbing pitifully. A tranquilizer gun lay forgotten on the cot next to her, and she was moaning "Oz, please, stop it, Oz..." Buffy ran up to Willow and got her attention by shaking her somewhat more violently than she had intended to.
"Willow, what's going on? Is this normal?"
"I don't know. He's never been this bad," Willow sobbed. "Around 10.30 he just went nuts. I was going to get him with the tranquilizer, but he's moving around so much, I'm afraid I'll hurt him. I don't know what to do!"
"Okay, calm down Willow. We'll take care of it. Angel, see if you can get him to hold still while I shoot him with the tranquilizer."
Angel nodded, and went to the cage, allowing his face to slip away from its more human look to the demonic one he rarely let anyone see. He growled softly, and Oz the wolf immediately dropped to all fours, crouched for an attack, every muscle tense from the perceived threat. He started to return the growl, but was abruptly cut off by Buffy's well-aimed tranquilizer dart, and collapsed into a still pile of fur and muscle. Willow opened the cage and went inside, burying her face into Oz's side, crying harder than ever. "Oz, oh, Oz. I'm so sorry. Please be okay tomorrow."
Buffy knelt next to Willow and put her arm around her. "This is what you haven't been telling him, isn't it. How much he struggles to get out of here."
Willow nodded miserably. "Oh, Buffy, it's terrible. He can carry on like that for hours before he gives up, and I'm so worried he'll hurt himself. A few times, I've almost let him out. But tonight was the worst I've ever seen. If you hadn't come... Wait, what are you doing here?"
Buffy decided to leave the fact-finding portion of her visit out and only told Willow that Oz had asked them to leave the keys with her when they were done with the van. "But Willow, why didn't you tell anyone? We would've helped you. You didn't have to do this alone."
Willow was trying to clean herself up with the edge of her shirt. "I didn't want anyone else to see him, especially while he's changing. It hurts him so much, and then this starts. I thought if only one person knew, he could at least keep his dignity. Especially since he doesn't know himself."
Buffy stroked Willow's hair and offered her the linen handkerchief Angel produced from one of his pockets. "You can't keep this from him, Willow. He has the right to know what happens to him, and what he does."
"I don't know, Buffy," Angel interjected. "Do you really think Oz needs to know? Essentially, this animal is not Oz. Both just happen to be living in the same body. Why should Oz-the-human feel responsible for what he does when he's not Oz-the-human?"
"Because he already does. He's seen you crying, Willow. He knows he's the cause. He just doesn't know why. And it's the not knowing that's upsetting him."
"But how do you tell someone about this? I mean, how do I explain it to him?" Willow looked like she was about to start crying again.
"I have an idea for that," said Angel thoughtfully. "Can you get your hands on a video camera?"
"Sure... Of course!" Willow's eyes cleared as she considered the plan. "Then he can see for himself. We can do it tomorrow night."
"No, Willow," said Buffy with finality. "Angel and I will do it. You are going to go home and get some rest right now and skip tomorrow night."
"But Oz..." Willow started to protest.
"...will understand," Buffy finished. "Angel, can you take her home? I'll stay here."
"Sure. C'mon Willow. Let's get you tucked safely into bed. Safe from the werewolves."
Willow smiled weakly. "And the vampires."
Angel returned her smile. "Yes, and the vampires.
"Okay," said Willow, finally acquiescing. "But don't tell him anything yet. I want to tell him my own way, with the tape. Here are the keys. This one opens the shackles and this one is for the leg irons. Undo him as soon as he wakes up. Bring in the clothes and the water that are under the cot. The alarm is set for 10 minutes before sunrise."
"Got it. Shackles, irons, clothes, alarm, check. Now go home. I'll take good care of him."
Buffy and Willow hugged, and then Willow and Angel left. Buffy went back out to the cot, closing the door behind her on the unconscious Oz. "Boy, are you in for a day, Oz," she whispered to his motionless form. "I hope it's what you wanted."
The next morning, as she had promised Willow, Buffy was kneeling next to Oz just before dawn, waterbottle, keys and clothes at the ready. To this, she had added a bottle of aspirin from her backpack, reasoning the tranquilizer dart may have given him a headache. She watched in wonder as the dark furry mass before her changed quietly back into the Oz she knew, and then helped him drink from the bottle as he tried to sit up, but groaned and laid down instead.
"What the hell happened? Willow?" Oz said as soon as he could.
"No Willow. Buffy. I had to shoot you with the tranquilizer gun. Hold still, let me get these off you. Be careful, you're in bad shape."
"No kidding," said Oz, holding out his hands for Buffy to unlock him. "It feels like you spent last night practicing slayage on me. What happened? Where's Willow?"
"Angel took her home last night. I stayed on. As to what happened, Willow made me promise not to say anything. She's going to explain it all herself tomorrow."
"Tomorrow? Why not today? You promised me something too."
"Trust me. It'll make a lot more sense tomorrow. Can you stand?"
"I think so." Oz carefully stood up, somewhat shaky but okay on his feet. Once standing, Buffy could see the bruises he had given himself all over his body the night before, and the chafing from the cuffs at the arms and wrists. They already seemed to be fading. "What is that smell?" Oz asked as he struggled into the jeans and t-shirt Willow had left.
"What smell?" Buffy asked, her back belatedly turned to Oz, who luckily had been too distracted to notice the way Buffy had surreptitiously checked him out.
"You can't smell that? It smells like a graveyard down here."
"Well, I spend a fair amount of time in graveyards. Maybe the smell has rubbed off on me."
Oz considered that explanation, but shook his head. "That begs the question of why I've never smelt it around you before."
"It could be just a timing thing. You know, so recently possessed of a wolf sniffer as you were. Is it getting better?"
"Not really. Let's get out of here. I hope you still have the van, because I don't think I can walk it."
"Yup. Put your arm around me; I think I can support you," she said, casually picking him up in her arms.
* * *
The afternoon, in response to Buffy's urgent phone call, all the gang but Oz were gathered in the library. Buffy had just filled them in on what she and Angel had found the night before, and on the plan to film that night to better explain it to Oz.
Giles seemed surprised at the level of struggle Buffy told them about, even though he'd been one of the people in the woods the night Cain had tried to kill Oz. "Astounding! I mean, I knew he was strong and violent, but that seems extreme. What could have set him off I wonder?"
"He said there was a big party happening at the college last night," Xander volunteered. "We know he grooves on the whole sexual heat thing. Maybe it was all the college hormones."
"But the college is 8 miles away from here. How could he have smelled it?" Willow objected.
"Well, we know that as a werewolf he has a keen sense of smell. Maybe 8 miles isn't that far for him," reasoned Giles. "I'll see what I can find. One of the books we got from the mansion looks promising. You'll tape it tonight?"
Buffy nodded. "That way, Willow can explain it to him in living color. Angel and I will handle tonight and then Willow can explain it in the morning. That reminds me Wills, do you want the rest of us there?"
Willow frowned. "I'll let Oz decide that. Are you sure he was okay this morning?"
"As good as can be expected. Stiff, and with some very decorative bruises, but otherwise okay."
"And mobile," said Oz, coming in unexpectedly.
Willow jumped up and ran to him, hugging him. "Oz! What are you doing up?"
"Well, three hours of sleep and a hot shower and I was good as new. The bruises are even gone. Then after I didn't get an answer at your house, or Buffy's or Xander's, I knew you all had to be here. So, what are we talking about?"
Buffy jumped in. "Tonight. Angel and I are going to stay with you tonight to give Willow a little break. Then tomorrow she's going to explain."
Oz frowned, frustrated. "Again with the tomorrow. Look, I'd like to know now. It is me, you know. I have certain rights."
Willow hugged Oz to her again. "Oh, Oz," she mumbled into his chest. "I know, and I was wrong to try and keep it from you this long. But please, wait one more day, and it will all make much more sense to you. I promise."
Oz rolled his eyes. "Okay, but only because it's you asking. God, there's that smell again!" Just at that moment, Angel walked in. "It's him! You can't smell that?"
"Sorry," said Angel. "What's me?"
"You stink. Like a corpse, only stronger."
"Well, you don't smell so good yourself," said Angel, highly offended. "Like a wet dog."
"He does not," protested Willow, as always quick to defend Oz. "He smells zestfully clean."
"And Angel does not smell like a graveyard," volunteered Buffy. "What do you smell like? Is that Aramis?" she turned and asked Angel.
"He does so smell," said both Angel and Oz, looking at each other distrustfully.
"Everyone take a chill. No one smells like anything. Can we move on?" Xander seemed to be irritated with the whole direction of the conversation.
"Actually," said Giles, slipping into his learned man mode, "it is very probable that Angel would smell like a corpse to another supernatural being, seeing as how he's been dead for over 200 years. And it stands to logic that Oz might smell of wet dog, but again, only to another such as himself, since he is a werewolf and did just, er, take a shower."
"Makes sense," allowed Buffy. "And the rest of us can't smell it because..."
"...because we're all human," finished Giles.
"But wait," Oz jumped in, not willing to allow the point. "The sun's up. I should be fully human now too. So why can I still smell it?"
"I'm not sure. Any other heightened senses? Hearing perhaps?" queried Giles. Oz shook his head in the negative.
"Maybe it's because of what you were talking about last night, Angel, about the werewolves and vampires not being the best of friends all the time," offered Buffy.
"We definitely don't get along if they all smell like that," said Oz, causing Angel to lose his temper.
"Would you stop with the smell already? Go stand on the other side of the room if you don't like it."
"I will!" said Oz, and stalked off indignantly, closely followed by an anxious Willow. Xander looked after them, astonished at the previously unflappable Oz's sudden display of pique.
"Yes, well. It's a possible explanation. I'll check that new book and see what I can find. In the meantime, proceed with your plan tonight. Let me know if you need help." Giles was already getting that distant, something fun to research look in his eye that he saved for special challenges.
"Stick with the research, Giles. We'll take care of the heavy lifting," Buffy assured him. "Oz, what time do you want to meet?"
"Sun sets at 6.39. I'll pick you up around 5.30?"
"Okay, Angel, you meet us in the cellar around 6. Xander, you get everything we need set up in the meantime."
"Yes, sir," said Xander, saluting.
"Smart alec. And it's ma'am to you. I'm going to go try and get some sleep before tonight. See you tonight, Oz." With that, Buffy left.
"Why do I feel like the mother hen has taken me on as a project," wondered Oz.
"Well, she's very good at her projects," reminded Willow.
"You can't even give me a little hint?"
"I promise. Tomorrow, right after you wake up. Oh, do you mind if everyone else is there too?"
"Why, not. Everyone else seems to already know," Oz said bitterly, immediately regretting it when he saw the look on Willow's face. "Okay, well it looks like you're firm in waiting 'til tomorrow. You want to go get some food?"
"Okay. Food is good, we like food." After suitable goodbyes to Xander, Angel and Giles, they left to try and pretend everything was absolutely normal.
"Well, I'm off to break into the AV room. Wish me luck." Xander took off as well.
"Yes, yes, of course. Good luck," said Giles, somewhat after the fact due to already being lost in a book.
Angel showed no inclination to joining the general exodus. "Poor kid. He's in for a bad bit."
Giles looked up, a bit surprised to find anyone still there. "Angel? Do you mean Oz?" He refocused his attention on what Angel had said. "You know something you're not telling, don't you?"
"Yes."
"Would you care to share?"
"I should tell him first. Tomorrow, when we show him that tape. Might as well hit him with the whole truth at once."
"Yes, well then. Tomorrow," Giles agreed. "I'll see what else I can learn from that book in the meantime."
* * *
Oz, who had never been very punctual, turned up at Buffy's house at exactly 5.30 that evening. Buffy could tell by his face that he was keeping his anxiety in, and doing a poor job of it too.
"You have a good nap?" he asked as he smoothly slid the van into gear and backed out of the driveway.
"Oh, yes, just dandy. I only had 5 nightmares about the Master and 3 about Drusilla."
"Just Drusilla? No Spike?" Oz seemed mildly amused.
"No. Before they left town, Spike and I came to an understanding. He doesn't really scare me as much as he used to."
"You?" Oz was incredulous. "Came to an understanding with William the Bloody? That doesn't seem very appropriate for the Slayer."
"Don't get me wrong. I won't hesitate to kill him when our paths next cross, and I'm sure he feels the same way. But for now, I understand a bit more about his motivation. As strange as this might sound about anyone as bloodthirsty and vicious as Spike and Drusilla, he really and truly loves her. He set Angelus up for me so he could get her back."
"Yeah," said Oz sarcastically. "They're two peas in a pod alright. Do you really think he'll stay away though?"
"He said he would. For what the promise of a demon is worth. He'll be back eventually. The Hellmouth is too powerful for him to resist."
"Oh yeah. The Hellmouth, beckoner of all things scary and mean."
"Look who's talking," Buffy said, laughing.
"Hey, what I am is not my fault!" Oz exploded, accelerating a little too quickly away from a stop sign. Buffy started and then put her hand out to him, as if to try and take back her earlier teasing. Oz caught himself, slowed down the van, and then continued more reasonably. "I didn't ask for this anymore than you asked to be the Slayer. I just haven't found a way to make it work for me yet, that's all."
"Well, I'm sure you will eventually. Angel seems to know something that might help."
"Angel. I'm not sure I want his help." Oz said this pensively.
"Why the sudden change? You were fine with him before, even after you became a werewolf and he...came back."
"I don't know. I just don't feel comfortable around him anymore. I can't even tell you where it's coming from. It just is." As he said it, Oz felt the lie of it. His feelings about Angel came from someplace he'd come to recognize as his other self; the same part that sent him chained up into a cage for three nights every month. And just as he had no control over that, he had no control over the deep feelings of hatred and fear he suddenly had towards Angel.
"Well, snap out of it. Sure, I have problems with him too. But he's an ally. And, I might add, the person in our little merry band who you have the closest, um, biological affinity to. You should stick together."
"I know all that on an intellectual level. I have no control on how I feel on this. It seems to be coming from the, shall we say, less human part of me."
"Which is why you need to use your humanity to overcome it. If you start to give in to the wolf, you'll become the wolf, and in a more complete way than just three nights a month." With that, they remained silent for the rest of the ride until pulling up to the school. "Well, here we are," said Buffy with artificial cheerfulness. "Your chamber for the evening awaits."
"Oh, whoopee. Let the fun begin." They went into the school and down to the cellar. Oz started to sniff the air. "Angel's here, I smell. Are you sure you can't smell that?"
Buffy let out a big breath out in exasperation, puffing a few strands of hair up from her forehead. "Oz, give it up. You're the werewolf, you're the only one who can smell him. Hey Angel."
"Hey," Angel said, coming in from the back near the janitor cage. "We're all set up. I figure we've got about 20 minutes until sunset. Are you ready?"
"Sure." Buffy indicated the large bags she and Oz were carrying. "We've got the rest of the stuff right here. Let's lock and load."
"Well, lock anyway." Oz led the way to the cage, undressed, and allowed Buffy and Angel to lock him up.
"Did I do this right?" asked Buffy.
Oz gave a few experimental tugs. "Feels okay. What do you get on sunset, Angel?
"I'd say about 3 minutes. That what you get too?"
"Feels right."
Buffy looked at the naked, shackled Oz. "I don't see a wristwatch anywhere."
Oz looked away. "I can feel it inside."
"Me too," said Angel. "Call it a creature of the night thing. You can feel the freedom coming closer."
Oz shuddered. "I don't feel any freedom. I only feel jittery and anxious."
"Why jittery?" asked Buffy, but before Oz could answer, he doubled over and screamed in pain. Buffy ran for the camera, previously hidden under a sheet, turned on the small spotlight and started taping. Angel quickly closed the cage door and stood by her.
"You getting it?" he asked, watching with fascination as Oz changed shape.
"Yeah. How many tapes do we have?"
"Three."
"That's more than enough. Let's get every minute, but I don't think we need to show him the whole thing. Just the highlights."
"What are you going to do with the tape once you've shown it to him?"
Buffy shrugged. "I guess that'd be up to him. My guess is erase it. We don't want proof floating around that he's a werewolf, or that they even exist for that matter. Can you cover the camera? I want to stay closer to him with the tranquilizer, and I think you might upset him. He was really weirded out in the car on the way over here. The whole thing with the smell, and something else too."
"Yes, well, wait 'til tomorrow. I can explain the smell, why it came on when it did and why he suddenly doesn't like me. And I don't think he's going to like it when I tell him."
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