Thank you for reading!


Held there in the Bronze, while the vampire who looked like the woman he loved was out there somewhere hunting her doppelganger, Oz was growing increasingly frustrated. He could feel the wolf inside him in a way that usually happened only near the full moon, and he wondered if it would come out. Could it come out, in a situation where he felt this much fear and the fury brought on by helplessness? Only his certainty that Buffy loved Willow as much as he did and that she would go to any lengths to protect her allowed him to keep his cool.

Dylan, fortunately, was still cowering behind the amps, so Oz didn't have to deal with his commentary on the apparent change in Willow. Or with his own feelings about how incredibly beautiful she had been as a vampire, strong and powerful and sure of herself. He could see the difference, though, and what he wanted more than anything was to get out of here and hold his Willow in his arms and show her how strong and powerful and sure of herself she could be.

As the clock ticked, that moment seemed further and further away. The vamps keeping the Bronze hostage were patient, though, waiting for their boss, and for that he was grateful.

At last a knock sounded on the door, and one of the vamps went to open it. The vampire Willow stood there … only she looked different. Somehow shorter, less … dangerous. When she lifted a hand and did a little wave and said, "Hi! I'm back," Oz knew. This was his Willow. Somehow they had prevailed, and his Willow had come back to save them all. He felt a deep pride in her, knowing that this charade couldn't be easy for her, but she was doing it anyway.

She walked in, slowly, getting her bearings, and the lead vamp and the girl Anya, who seemed to know a lot more about what was going on than she should, approached her.

"Did you find the girl?" the vamp asked.

Willow hesitated, trying to get the speech patterns right, Oz guessed. Then she said, "Yup, I did."

When she left it at that, Anya asked, "Where is she?"

"I killed her," Willow said, as though that was obvious. Anya looked at her incredulously, and Willow continued, "And sucked her blood, as we vampires do." Everyone was silent, staring at her. She turned to the vampire behind her, the one who had opened the door, and said something quietly to him that Oz didn't hear. He turned and left, and Oz realized that Buffy and the others must be waiting outside, ready to take the vamps out one by one.

As the door closed behind him, Anya advanced on Willow. "How could you kill her? She was our best shot at getting your world back."

There was more between Willow and Anya than Oz knew, it seemed, because there was a real edge in Willow's voice as she pushed past the other girl, saying, "I don't like that you dare question me. Maybe I'll have my minions take you out back and kill you horribly." She turned her head slightly, meeting Oz's eyes, and gave him a little smile and a wave.

The combination—his sweet adorable Willow and her bravery and that really sexy outfit—was an assault to his senses that had him wanting to get her alone and show her things she had never felt before. He settled for a faint smile at her, one he hoped only she would recognize as a smile, and a promise to himself that he was going to kiss her a lot as soon as this was over.

"Vampires," muttered Anya. "Always thinking with your teeth."

"She bothered me," Willow said. "She's so weak and accommodating. She's always letting people walk all over her and … and then she gets cranky with her friends for no reason."

Oz heard the subtext there, the unhappiness with herself, and added a long hug and maybe a massage to the list of things he wanted to do with her. Whatever had her so angry with herself, he wanted to help fix it, as soon as he possibly could.

"I just couldn't let her live," Willow finished. Turning to another vamp, she said, "You know, he's been gone for a while. Why don't you go check on him?"

Obediently, the vamp headed for the door. Anya, frowning, watched him go. The lead vamp, meanwhile, seemed ready to get down to business. "Well, boss, since that plan is out, why don't we get with the killing?"

Willow wasn't sure what to do with that. Oz tensed, ready to rush the vamp if he tried something. Then she said, "I don't know if I feel like killing anymore. I'm so bored." Wandering past a table where a girl sat, too frightened to move, Willow absently ran her hand through the girl's hair, and then got it tangled. Oz could see her wanting to apologize as she unwound the girl's hair from her fingers, and he held back his smile, but only barely. His Willow, such an extraordinary human.

"It—it would be like shooting fish in a barrel," Willow continued. "Where's the fun?"

"With all due respect, boss," said the lead vamp, "the fun would be the eating."

"Maybe we should let everyone go and give them a thirty-second head start," Willow suggested.

Anya rolled her eyes. "Wait a minute."

Oz could tell the light had dawned on her, and apparently so could Willow, because she hastily cut Anya off. "No! I like my plan."

"Nice try," Anya said.

"Okay, let's get to the killing. Why don't we start with her?" Willow pointed at Anya, who pointed right back.

"Why don't we start with you? If she's a vampire, then I'm the Creature from the Black Lagoon." Anya sighed. "I'm just so tired of being around human beings and all their baggage, I don't care if I ever get my powers back. I think he should eat you."

As Willow backed up toward him, Oz moved forward. If anything was going to go down, he was going to put himself between Willow and the vamp. "This girl," Willow said, "has a history of mental problems, dating back to early childhood. I'm a blood-sucking fiend! Look at my outfit."

Unconvinced, the lead vamp shook his head. "A human. I should have smelled it right away."

"A human? Oh, yeah? Could a human do this?" Willow took a deep breath and screamed at the top of her lungs.

Anya and the vamp looked at each other, confused. "Sure, yeah, humans do that."

And then the door burst open and Buffy was inside, with Angel right behind her. They engaged the vamps while Giles and Xander started getting the people out. Anya looked around her in confusion before locking eyes on Willow. She opened her mouth, smiled, clearly trying for some kind of reconciliation or apology, something to get her back on what looked like it would be the winning side, but Willow wasn't having any. She slugged Anya in her best best-friend-of-a-Slayer style—and then shook her hand, shrieking, "Ow, ow, happy, but—ow!"

Oz grabbed her other hand and pulled her onto the stage, away from the fighting, glad to be touching her again, sure of her realness and her aliveness.

Dylan was trying, and failing, to climb up toward the skylight, while the rest of the Bronze was emptying out, Buffy and Angel in action with the remaining vamps. Oz pulled Willow toward the back door, only to stop when he saw another Willow, this one in her cute fuzzy pink sweater and full, disturbing, vamp face, coming toward them. She grabbed Oz and shoved him away. He crashed into Dylan, both of them falling, while the vamp Willow caught the real Willow, his Willow.

"No more snuggles?" Willow asked, and the vamp backhanded her across the face.

Before Oz could get to his feet again, vamp Willow was on his Willow, bearing down toward her neck. He wasn't going to be able to get to her in time, and Buffy and Angel both seemed to be busy. But Buffy heard Willow cry out and made her way across the room. She was poised to stake the vamp when Willow shouted, "Buffy, no!" So Buffy pulled her strike and instead grabbed the vamp by the arm, holding her there.

Getting to her feet, Willow said breathlessly, "Nice reflexes."

Buffy smiled. "Well, I work out."

The vampire Willow grumbled, "This world's no fun," and the real Willow nodded. "You noticed that, too?"

Oz reached his Willow at last and pulled her against him, holding her tightly, not caring who saw. Just the feel of her there in his arms, the smell of her hair—and the leather, although that smelled a bit of blood, which was a disturbing note and called to the wolf inside him more than he would have liked—was enough. For now.