Here we go again. Hope you enjoy. Any thoughts and feedback are always welcome. Sometimes muses need little nudges to get them going in the morning.

Thanks to everyone who has commented so far. Special mention for Crazy-Girl, who's always had a soft spot for wolfy Oz, and my lovely regular reviewer Kaz, who has been missing the Ozage in the last few chapters ;)

Chapter Twenty Four

Giles gave a sigh that was more a yawn, and rubbed two fingers across his brow in fatigue. Still frowning at the obscure words, he reached out for the cup of tea that sat beside him, before remembering that he had finished it about ten minutes previously. Wearily, he closed the hard cover and slid the book back onto the table. He proceeded to twirl his glasses thoughtfully between his thumb and finger as he regarded the growing stack of dead ends before him. He'd had high hopes for that one. The Rosae Rubeae et Aureae Crucis was part of one of the most noted Magical Orders in history. Of all the references he'd followed, this had seemed the most promising: one of the most established mystical societies to ever successfully practice astral travel. The same basic principles of folding the temporal fabric and manipulating astral planes could (in theory) be similarly applied to travelling multiple dimensions.

However, it turned out the Order had guarded its most powerful secrets the most closely, and the only accounts he had managed to find were vague and cryptic in the most infuriating ways, giving him hardly anything substantial to work with. To be fair, Giles wasn't entirely sure what he could really do even if he found the information he was looking for. This was a bit out of his field of expertise; Jenny was more the authority here, and given her finesse with computer files and website contacts and whatnot, he had no doubt she could locate helpful information much quicker than him.

The Watcher rested the tip of his glasses on his chin. He had to admit, he found Jenny's attitude of late on this subject, a little baffling. She was evasive, almost quietly disapproving and unwilling to offer her help. Giles knew she had developed a good friendship with Willow during her stay here and all the time they had spent together. It was clear the quick-witted teacher had enjoyed having another smart and talented Wicca around, and she had taken the young witch under her wing somewhat. He could understand how they had grown so close. A tender smile crossed his face. It would've been hard not to embrace the bubbly, sweet girl with her stubborn will and infectious bright smile, regardless of how inexplicably she had crashed into their world. Her excitable curiosity and intelligence were things to admire in themselves; but there was a determination in her courage and openness in her heart that commanded a whole other respect. Giles knew he already held a deep fondness for the smart and compassionate girl who had adopted his office and brightened his day without even realising it. He knew it and it couldn't be helped now. They had let themselves get too attached, too comfortable; they had let themselves forget the urgency of her situation. Of course it was natural for them to feel conflicted like this when tough decisions had to be made. The desire not to let go was a deeply human impulse and one they were all guilty of. He himself had grown dangerously used to her warm companionship in the library; it was to be expected that Jenny would feel even more torn.

But it just wasn't safe for her here. Not that he could guarantee her safety in the other world, far from it, but at least she would be back home and in charge of her own future again. Though she was careful not to talk overly much of her own reality, he couldn't imagine how much it must hurt her to be apart from it and her loved ones. They had to let her leave; they had to let her live her own life. It was their responsibility to do the right thing; and he knew that Jenny knew it just as well as he did.

If he could give Willow a chance to get out then he would, and Giles would make sure he did everything in his power to help her return. He leaned back in his chair, feeling the full weight of his tenure on the Hellmouth settling on his shoulders like a lead weight. He had more questions than answers, and more problems than hours in the day at the moment. The redundant Watcher shook his head to himself; nothing new there then. He allowed himself a last disappointed glance at the book he had just put down. Oh well, it was just a theory anyway.

~o~

The sky outside the school was streaked in deep gold and rusty pink; bleeding across the expanse like paint through water, to settle between the bands of high white clouds. It was an interlude between the light and dark; a deep breath before the plunge to night.

Giles took a sip from his freshly made tea as he examined the set of titles in his hand. He raised his head when he heard the familiar muffled thud of the doors open and close, and stepped out of his office to greet his visitor.

"Ah, Oz. Yes," Giles cast a glance at the large clock on the wall beside the counter. "How was class?"

The student gave a non-committal shrug. His gaze took in the scattered books as he approached the long table. "Busy afternoon, huh?"

Giles inclined his head as he joined him on the library floor. "Wish I could say it was more productive."

Oz stuck his hands in his pockets and nodded without looking up. Giles cleared his throat, breaking the contemplative silence. "Well, I think everything's in place." He turned towards the book cage, gesturing in the general direction with the hot cup in his hand. "The weapon cabinet is secured; window locked," he said as he ticked off the mental checklist. "And I refilled the tranquiliser and checked it yesterday."

The boy glanced away towards the counter that hid the hunting rifle. "Comforting."

Giles regarded the student beside him, sympathy in his face. "It's just a precaution. I'm sure it won't be needed," he reassured.

Oz didn't say anything. In fact, he didn't even seem to have heard Giles's words as he frowned to himself and suddenly looked up towards the book cases on the upper level. Panic snapped at the edge of his mind, driven harder by the quick temper of the wolf that was stirring inside him. No, she can't be here. Not now. Before Giles could question his actions, he crossed the floor and took the steps two at a time, guided only by his overwhelmed senses.

"Oz?" Giles called worriedly from the floor below. "Is everything alright?"

He found the source of her scent almost immediately. He leaned against the bookcase, air escaping his lungs in a rush of relief as he looked down at the purple jumper that lay crumpled on the floor between the stacks. He was slightly surprised to feel his heart still hammering in adrenaline, but put it down to the imminent change that was creeping through his system, ready to pounce at the first moment of darkness. Bending down, he slowly picked up the jumper, careful not to breathe in too deeply – the wolf didn't need any more ammunition right now. The rich wool was soft and smooth between his fingers, the warmth of her body still lingered. A muted growl rumbled through his torso and his hands clenched into the fabric as he grasped for safe ground again.

Giles had taken another cautious step towards the balcony, when Oz quietly emerged and came back down the stairs. Giles nodded in relief before his gaze dropped to the item of clothing held in the boy's lowered hand. His brow furrowed for a moment. "Oh. Ah yes, Willow must have left it from earlier. She did seem rather distracted this afternoon." He lifted his shoulders in a tired shrug. "Well never mind, I can hang onto it until tomorrow." Oz's fist invisibly tightened its grip around the jumper, but there was nothing in his face to betray it.

"Where is she now?"

"She went home with Jenny about an hour ago."

The teenager nodded silently. Giles smiled in understanding and offered out a hand to take the item. Oz hesitated before forcing himself to hand it over with as much casualness as he could muster. He watched as the librarian took her jumper and his cup of tea back into the office. When he was out of earshot, Oz turned away to stare out the narrow window, high on the far wall. "Good," he breathed low to himself.

He could feel the moon rising behind the setting sun; feel the precarious imbalance between the human and the wolf shifting. He only had a few minutes.

Giles appeared at the office door. "Well, I'll leave you to…get ready, shall I?" Oz almost smiled at the man's choice of words. So much more genteel than: 'lock yourself up', even if it wasn't as honest. "You'll be okay?"

"I'll survive."

The Watcher nodded with something like encouragement and turned to go back inside. Seized with a sense of irrational urgency, Oz called out and stopped him.

"Giles-"

Oz cut himself off as the first wave of transformation abruptly shuddered through his system. With a grimace, he hunched over his cramping stomach muscles, before quickly raising a hand to stop his friend who had started to cross to his side in concern. "No, don't. It's…fine." With a deep breath he pulled himself straight again. He could feel the wolf inside, frantically searching for a foothold in the cracks that were being opened once more. Not yet, Oz thought bitterly.

He looked up to see Giles hovering anxiously a few steps away, looking undecided about whether to intervene or not. His eyes flickered to the book cage just behind the trembling boy. "Oz, maybe you should-"

"Don't let her see."

The sharp plea seemed to temporarily shock the older man from his worry. Oz held his confused gaze with determination. He spoke as firmly and evenly as his failing body and rising fear would let him.

"She can't see. She can't know."

Oz could hear the underlying desperation that tinged his words and there was nothing he could do about it. It didn't matter, not as long as he agreed.

Giles studied the boy before him. Finally, with a sigh, he shook his head with resigned acceptance. "Very well. Naturally it's your choice. I imagine Jenny should be able to make excuses for them to stay away for the next few nights. We'll think of something."

Oz nodded his silent thanks, grateful the Watcher hadn't probed further into his request. Of course it was mutually agreed that the fewer people who knew his secret the better, but this was more than that. For some reason, the thought of Willow finding out the truth about him, the dangerous monster he was capable of being - it felt like a hollow was being cut out of his chest, carving away the most important part of him.

She may never want to speak to him again. Why would she? After seeing him for what he really was, of course she'd want to keep her distance. Mistrust and hurt darkening those smiling eyes. She'd have every right to be angry, confused and afraid…afraid of him. It was a prospect he couldn't stand to think about. Would she feel betrayed? After all, she thought they fought to stop evil, not protect it. He couldn't let that happen. Maybe it was selfish on his part, but he just couldn't. He wasn't strong enough.

It took him a moment to realise Giles was still talking to him.

"I do understand your reluctance, but I rather think you're not giving her enough credit. Do you really think she'd think any less of you? Do we?"

Oz gave a wan smile but otherwise ignored the pointed question. It was a risk he wasn't willing to take. Maybe she would understand; maybe she wouldn't. Either way, she'd never look at him the same way again.

Grasping for the meshed door of the cage, he braced himself against another surge that twisted through his body. "Guess that's my cue," he said as calmly as he could manage through his erratic breathing.

He caught a glance of Giles stepping back carefully, before he slipped behind the metal and pulled the door shut behind him. The lock rattled into place and the wolf's frustration was immediately felt as it lashed out anxiously at the back of his mind. Oz closed his eyes, a wince of pain and exhaustion on his features. This was going to be a bad night.

He heard the quiet click of the office door as it was considerately closed, leaving him alone for the transformation. Oz stood and listened to the silence for a moment, using it to bring the familiar dread under control as much as possible. With a sigh of defeat, he tugged off his faded green shirt and threw it up on top of the cabinet. The coolness of the air conditioned school had no effect upon his heated body as he dutifully shoved his beaten trainers up on the shelf next.

Crossing his arms against the wide metal drawer, Oz pressed his forehead into his burning skin and shut his eyes. He drew in a shaky breath and let the darkness take him.

~o~

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