Summary: Oz's presence has... repercussions. S2 E27

Disclaimer: I own whatever OC's I create, and not much more.

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Pre-fic Comments:

Yes, I'm winging this. Expect the unexpected (and inane, crappy plot.)

For some weird reason, white people get called European here in NZ, even if we don't *have* any family anywhere else. We also get called Pakeha, but a lot of people get offended at that. (Do we make up names for the Maori? No, so they shouldn't make up names for us.)

Well, when I say family, I mean living family. I've got ancestors from Prussia, France, England...

* * *

Xander grumbled as Buffy dragged him to the Library after school. It didn't do him any good -- the Slayer had Righteous Self-Indignation on her side. She burst through the double doors and threw him down onto one of the wooden armchairs at the main table.

"Hey!," Xander complained. "Careful!"

Willow gave him a funny look. "Hey, Xander, did you start dying your hair?"

"No," Xander blinked. "Why would I? Oz might come after me for trademark infringement."

Buffy produced her makeup compact.

"Sorry, Buff, I'm more than good looking enough as it is," Xander grinned.

She wordlessly opened it, showing him his reflection in the mirror. While some of it had darkened to black, some of it had changed...

"AAAAAAAAAAAAH!," Xander yelled. "G-MAN! I'VE CONTRACTED GREYHAIRITIS FROM YOU!"

Willow reached out and smacked him across the back of the head. "No, mister, that must be from that fight you had last night. You know, with the were-snow-leopard guy? Here's a picture of a real snow leopard."

The redhead pushed an open book towards Xander. The cat in it had long, long grey hair, with black circles in it. On it's underbelly was white fur. It's tail was unusually long, and it had large paws with tufts of fur protruding between it's toes.

"Oh," Xander said intelligently. "Lives in the Himalayas. I thought the AC was just broken today."

Giles emerged from his office, cup of tea in hand like a religious zealot clutching his cross for mental comfort. "Ah, Xander. Good to see you. Er, were you aware of your hair?"

Xander looked up. "Yeah. Is your hair contagious?"

The Watcher looked horribly offended. "I don't have grey hair! Why, I'm only in my thirties! And if I do have grey hair, it's thanks to you ungrateful lot of whining little sods!"

"Touchy," Buffy whispered to Willow, who nodded.

Giles took a sip of tea and abruptly looked embarrassed. "Er, the chap from last night seems to have woken up, and demands that Oz and Xander meet with him in private. Willow, please go get Mr Osbourne before he leaves school?"

The hacker nodded, leaving the Library.

"There's gonna be no 'in private'," Buffy said immediately. "If I'm gonna have to deal with rabid cats as well as dogs, I'm learning about it now."

"'Cats', as you so crassly call us," the stranger said, leaving Giles office, "are always in control. It is merely the mutts of the world who lack the selfcontrol to not piddle on lampposts."

"Great," Buffy said, smiling brightly. "But if I find any bodies clawed to death, I'll know who to look at."

"Hey!," Xander and the stranger protested simultaneously, both feeling insulted.

"I believe we owe you an apology," Giles said, finishing his cup of tea and putting it down on the check outs desk. "For the tranquiliser, I mean."

The stranger waved it off. "It's my own fault. Mother always said that I shouldn't hand out so many death threats."

"See, the thing is," Xander said, "around here, people actually carry those out, ya know? I'm Xander, he's Giles, she's Buffy, and you are?"

The stranger winced. "Uh, Jens." He pronounced it halfway between 'gens' and 'yens'.

"Hey, guys," Willow said, returning with Oz in hand. "Did I miss anything?"

"Er, not really," Giles said. "Willow, Oz, this is Jens. Jens, Willow, Oz."

"Hi," Oz said simply.

"I believe he wants to speak with you and Xander in private, Oz," Giles continued. "You may use my office if you so wish."

The three wordlessly walked into the office, Xander snagging a box of donuts Giles had picked up in anticipation of researching the new type of were. Once the door closed, the two girls wordlessly moved steathily over to the door, listening at the keyhole.

Buffy and Willow looked up as they realised someone was standing over them.

"Out," Giles commanded. "Go to the Bronze, or whatever it is you do. Come back this evening, Buffy."

* * *

Xander spoke first, once the door had shut. "Okay, am I gonna turn into a rabid catguy during the full moon? Because that is so not cool. No offense, Oz."

Jens sneered. "Only the werewolves have /that/ brand of insanity, kitten."

"Hey!," Xander protested.

"Every other type of were has a different curse," Jens continued. "Our curse is that of appearance -- our hair for instance -- and other types of were have different curses. You'll have a very hard time getting a were-rat to calm down, for instance."

"Is there any way for me to stay calm during the full moon?," Oz asked. That had to have been one of the longest sentences that Xander had ever heard him say.

"I don't know," Jens said simply. "I'm not a werewolf. I can get in touch with some, though."

"Cool."

"Okay," Xander said, "if I don't go nutso during the full moon, do I ever change?"

"Only if you want to," Jens said. "And you will want to."

* * *

Post-fic Comments:

I hope that cleared some stuff up.