Willow let the hardcover book thud to the desktop in front of the engrossed librarian. Giles' gaze drifted up from the tome he had been perusing to the title of Willow's volume. The edges of his mouth pulled down involuntarily for a moment before he turned his eyes back down.
"Willow, you know I have the greatest respect for all books. Therefore, would you therefore take that... thing out of my library before I'm forced to destroy it?"
Willow collapsed into the chair across from him and pushed the purple and orange-covered book closer to him.
"Giles, don't get all snooty on me. I know you're not much of a fan of modern fiction, but —"
Giles straightened his glasses, frowning at the girl.
"Dickens is modern fiction. Tolkein is modern fiction. This is claptrap, candy-coated nonsense that I must say I'm disappointed you waste your time with."
"But Giles, Rowling is the only author who even hints at some kind of remedy for lycanthropy after the first transformation. I mean, I know we can't cure Oz, but if we could create a potion like the one in this book, it would mean Oz wouldn't spend three nights a month bashing himself against chains. He could just be a doggy. I like doggies." She gave the Watcher her best puppy-dog look.
"I'm sorry, Willow," he said, finally accepting the book, which she had opened to the relevant scene, and glanced at the passage that the girl pointed to. "But you must know that Mrs. Rowling has no background in actual witchcraft. None of these Potter novels bears any relevance to actual, practical magic." He closed the book and pushed it back toward her.
"But Giles," she said, "You haven't even read it. Don't dismiss it without even reading it. I mean, it's not like it's a big sacrifice for you to read one book. You don't even have to read the whole thing — I marked all the paragraphs where she talks about the potion with little sticky notes. With arrows."
Giles sighed and reached for "Prisoner of Azkaban."
Later, outside the school:
Oz adjusted his pinky's position on the E string and flicked his pick across the strings. He winced minutely at the sound and pressed down harder. He had thought the entire fingertip was calloused, but he knew the way the string notched the skin near the nail meant that was in for another long soak in cold tea.
He was shifting the position again and considering re-tuning when he heard a growl in his left ear. He turned his head and nearly whacked Willow in the nose. He quickly recovered with a kiss to her cheek. As he drew back, he saw quite pleased and hopeful look on her face — and a flowerpot clutched between her hands.
"Surprise," she said, grinning.
"I'd agree," he said, smiling back at her.
The stress of the just-finished full moon cycle had not diminished their joy in their newfound relationship, nor the stress of having Giles sit them down for a talk on the dangers of sexually transmitted lycanthropy. The watcher had obviously channeled every bit of his guilt over the fallout of Buffy's tryst with Angel into researching the minute particulars of bodily fluids, teeth, nails, bacteria and mystical forces and their roles in the transmission of werewolf-hood. Giles had been so successful that the two teens had only recently been able to bring themselves to kiss again, and Oz thought he would never get over the image of the librarian demonstrating how to safely French kiss using a dental dam.
Oz scooted over on the lunch table to make room for his girlfriend, and she hopped up next to him, still holding the flowerpot, which contained a small plant bearing strange, yellow flowers.
"We didn't have a fight, did we?" he asked her, teasingly. "I don't remember doing anything to deserve flowers."
Willow smiled. "It's Aconitum vulparia, wolfsbane," she said.
"Wolfsbane? Okay, so you're trying to get rid of me. A Jewell CD would have worked."
She leaned close and laid her head on his shoulder. "Not a chance. Giles and I are working on a potion that will make it easier for you during the change, and all the research says you have to use wolfsbane."
"Easier? Easier like how? I mean, I don't remember any of it, so I'm not sure how it could get easier."
"Believe me, it's not easy on you at the time, and it's sure not easy on the book cage. I'm worried you're going to hurt yourself one of these nights. I'm hoping this potion will let you sleep through all three nights of the full moon, even though you'll still change."
"I could deal with not being all tired the next day. You're the best girlfriend a werewolf could ever have," he said, nuzzling her.
"Yeah, I am," she admitted, nuzzling him back. "So I'm going to plant this, and some other wolfsbane plants, at my house. There's like 100 kinds of wolfsbane and we're not sure if only one of them will work, so we might have to try them all. I'm mail ordering some seeds from Transylvania," she announced, grinning.
"I'll never doubt your mad l33t witch skills, oh Willowy one," he said.
"Ooh, there's Buffy. I'm going to find out if she wants to plant some wolfsbane, too. She's only got garlic in her garden. Oh, and we're going to need some wine from your homeland."
"No problem, he said. "I was born right here in Sunnydale, so any local vintage will do. But my dad says the wine grown around here sucks."
"That's okay. The aconite will make your mouth numb because it's so poisonous so you won't taste anything."
Kissing him quickly, Willow dashed off.
"Oh goody," Oz said before returning his attention to the recalcitrant E string.