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

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

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AlbumThisWasWrittenTo: "These Days", by Bon Jovi

Pre-fic Comments:

Just saw 'The Butterfly Effect'. That is the scariest movie I've seen in a LONG time, and yes I have seen Silence of the Lambs. TBE is right up there with Grave of the Fireflies as one of those movies I can't sit through. They both engender the same feelings in me that I really can't verbalise, for some reason.

I know, it should probably be 'hot chocolate' and not milo. I don't know how to make hot chocolate, and I do milo.

"Hey, Giles," Xander said as the Englishman opened his door. Ignoring the lack of invitation, he strolled through quickly. "I've been thinking about that dream on the way here."

"What, might I ask, was so urgent that you felt the need to wake me up?," Giles asked irritably.

"That dream, I'm a cat, but it feels totally natural, and I'm stalking along a ledge on a cliff face, and there's a herd of goats below me. So I'm quietly waiting, waiting, waiting... and suddenly it's like there's this animal just below me, and I just /know/. Up until now I've had all my claws retracted, and I jump down onto the back of this goat thing, all claws out, and twenty odd little rivers of blood start flowing -- and I'm not freaked by this at all, it's perfectly natural, right? Anyway, I reach around the neck of the goat, and my jaws start choking it to death, and it dies, right beneath me, and I'm happy about it. God! I'm actually /happy/ that I killed something! Giles, what's wrong with me? I mean, I hold up my hand in the air like this, and I'm thinking why in God's name can I not see the blood that should be staining my fingertips? The worst part is, I'm not feeling guilty about this at all!"

Xander had been pacing the Watcher's lounge all the way through his monologue. His voice rose and fell in a pattern that Giles could see was leading up to a panic attack, hysteria given flesh. Giles got up from where he had slowly sat down on his favourite chair, and took Xander's hands firmly in his own, forcing the teenager to stop pacing nervously.

"Xander," Giles began. "Xander!"

"I'm here, I'm okay," Xander said, clearing his throat a few times. "Sorry, G-man. It's just... it was so real. What's wrong with me?"

Giles let the nickname slide this once. It would do neither of them any good if he reprimanded Xander for such a small thing.

"Nothing is wrong," Giles said, forcing Xander to look him in the eye. "Would it be okay if a wolf, raised in the wild, was a vegetarian?"

"Willow's mum would probably say yes," Xander said impishly. "But no, it wouldn't be natural."

"Big cats are carnivores, Xander," Giles said, sighing. "Whether you like it or not, you're becoming part cat, and that part of you expects to have to hunt down your meals, and kill them. I'm not saying that murdering people is okay, just explaining why you're not feeling any remorse. I'm also not saying that you should kill with no regrets."

"Okay," Xander said, shaking slightly. "Deep breaths here, calming down."

"W-Would you like a hot cup of tea?," Giles offered. "I bought some milo also, in the event that younger people might perhaps go crazy and visit me."

"I thought you just said I wasn't crazy," Xander teased.

Giles smiled. If Xander was back to making jokes, he was probably going to be okay. He would make sure to observe him to ensure this, however.

"Everyone is at least slightly crazy," Giles riposted. He filled his electric jug with some water, turning it on.

"Ain't it the truth," Xander said, shaking his head. "Sorry to bother you with my problems."

"It's no bother," Giles said, getting two mugs and a teapot. A teaspoon of Earl Grey tealeaves went in the pot, and Giles paused while opening the hot chocolate tin. "Er, how on earth do you make this infernal stuff?"

"Here, it's easy," Xander said, taking the tin from Giles. "You put in about four teaspoons of milo, and another four of sugar -- hey, where do you keep that? Okay... add the hot water -- stop there, need room for the milk, right?"

"Is all that really needed?," Giles asked, eyebrows raised.

"Uh... sure!," Xander grinned. "Not buying it?"

"I am buying it, which is why I was hoping it would stretch further," Giles said.

"Oh, very punny," Xander retorted. "Now, stir vigorously, and add milk!"

"Alright," Giles said, passing Xander a two litre container of milk. He carefully got his tea strainer and poured himself a cup of Earl Grey tea. "Put it back in the fridge once you're done, please?"

"Sure thing," Xander said, putting the milk back after filling the remainder of his cup and stirring it again.

"I've done a bit of research," Giles said. "Confirming those suspicions of were-creatures also confirmed the validity of several resources of information, so we've come across something of a windfall."

"Cool," Xander shrugged. "So. We talking huge killer cats once a month, or was that guy telling the truth?"

"I take it that Mr Osbourne hasn't said anything about his dreams to confirm anything?," Giles asked. "Given your mutual situation, I would think that the two of you would compare stories."

"Hey, if he dreamt about the Apocalypse, he'd just ask for an aspirin when he woke up," Xander complained.

"Well," Giles cleared his throat. "It would seem that you are indeed free of lunar madness, and can indeed change at will rather than under duress, so to speak."

"Cool! A get out of classes free card!," Xander grinned.

"If you do do that," Giles threatened, "you will be in on Buffy's training sessions. And you will not be munching popcorn from the sidelines either."

"Ouch," Xander shuddered. "A fate more painful than death."