DISCLAIMER: Joss, high priest of coolness, please take no offense that I have borrowed your wonderful characters. I don't own them, I don't presume to own them, don't sue or kill me, wonderful people at WB!
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Part Three
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Angelus wasn't exactly afraid of werewolves. He'd fought some of them, and they were usually pretty mindless. But he'd heard of werewolves who learned how far to change, to retain most of their mind and willpower when they attacked, and those were the ones to watch out for. It was like a tyrannosaurus compared to a velociraptor. On the one hand, one is huge but doesn't have any visual acuity. A mindless, ravenous beast. On the other hand, the others were smaller, but knew how to open doors. Angelus growled, Oz answering with only a half-feral roar. Just his luck. A velociraptor.
The seasoned vampire feinted right. He realized he'd misjudged as Oz's shoulder met his stomach. He felt his face, his neck, his chest slashed open in dozens of places. The werewolf did everything but sink his jaws into Angel's jugular. Oz buried his claws into Angel's thick leather jacket, and the vampire decided quickly that he wanted no more of this fight. Slipping out of the jacket, Angelus ran, away into the night.
Willow watched, tears of fear for herself and Oz streaming down her face, mingling with blood from a scrape across her cheek. The Oz she knew would never hit anyone. Except that time with Xander… Her cheeks turned crimson as she thought about that day. Rising to a sitting position, she smiled. "Oz…" She let his name curl off of her lips.
Blinking, still confused after what he'd just done, Oz felt claws retract, and he let Angelus' jacket fall to the ground. He felt another brief tickling around his hairline, ears, and nose, and knew he was back to normal…more or less. "Willow, I think something's wrong with me. I should go back home as soon as possible. But first, we have to take care of you. Are you okay?" Oz pulled Willow to a standing position, and then corrected immediately, catching his girlfriend. Supporting her against his chest, Oz looked into her eyes briefly, before seeing that being attacked and shoved into a wall had done a number on Willow. She fainted in his arms, and before he knew what he was doing, Oz swung her over his shoulder. "Come on, Willow. Let's get you home."
About fifteen minutes into the walk, Oz felt a dampness on his shoulder, and sniffed. Blood. Willow was bleeding! Oz barely knew what he was doing, but he cut straight through a few backyards, over fences, finding some incredible fountain of strength to draw from.
* * *
(Willow's House)
Reaching her backyard, Oz fumbled with the screen door, taking Willow's limp form in through the kitchen and to the living room, laying her down on the couch. In closer examination, Oz saw that it wasn't too much to worry about, just a small cut on her side. He was at first a little hesitant about invading his girlfriend's space like that. Still, he cleaned it carefully, without doing too much staring. His mother would have been proud.
Paranoidly, he sniffed the air, thinking he might have heard something. Peaking into the garage, Oz realized that Willow's parents were out for the night. Probably a good thing, considering that Willow's father didn't like ‘that grungy boy in the rock band' who 'not that it really matters, Willow can make her own decisions, but isn't of our faith'. Oz sneered, quickly stopping when he found his teeth were sharper than usual. Finally at a position to glance at himself in a mirror, he ran one hand through his hair.
It was like he was part wolf. Not even a quarter ways through the change, but just enough for his senses to be heightened. He was also a little taller, and felt stronger. Strangely, he liked the acuteness of scent and instinct. So much for the Equinox being a safe night, though.
"Oz?" Willow stirred on the couch, wincing in pain at the headache and bruises she felt. Swinging her legs off of the couch onto the floor, she cried out, biting her lip.
"Are you okay? What's wrong?" Oz was in front of her, hands gingerly soothing the pain in her ankle with supernatural agility. "Your ankle?" She nodded. It was really beginning to feel all right, but she didn't want Oz to stop the foot massage. After a few moments, his eyes met hers. "Better now?" Her heart almost melted. When he looked at her like that, Willow somehow just knew that she had found the person she would spend the rest of her life with. Not Xander, Willow thought, blushing at his memory even intruding on the intimate moment. He seemed so childish, so immature, so… Not Oz. She nodded. "A little bit."
Oz smiled and slipped off her shoe, rubbing her ankle and foot. Willow blushed. No words were needed. When he was around, she always felt like they were connected. Still, this was one of the more exciting moments in their relationship. It was the only misgiving Willow had about dating Oz. They didn't do much, kissing or groping wise. Granted, she hated those couples who hung all over each other in public, but that didn't mean Oz couldn't try and go a little farther when they were alone! Maybe she was giving him the impression that she wasn't ready to go that far. In a rare burst of impulsive behavior, Willow kissed him, harder than usual, trying to kiss like all those actresses she'd seen on TV.
Oz and Willow were both so engrossed that they almost didn't notice the sound of shattering glass from the front windows.
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