Wow, over a 100 reviews! Thanks so much for everyone's support - this story would not be getting written without you :) This chapter has been a struggle but it seemed to come together at last. I have to admit, my little shipper heart has been pre-occupied recently with the magic that is 'Glee'. But rest assured, there is plenty of love to go around.

Enjoy.

Chapter Twenty Five

Giles lifted his head wearily as another snarl and crash rattled the book cage. Abandoning all attempts at concentration, he let the crinkled and faded papers fall back onto his desk to join the others. He leaned back in his chair and pinched the bridge of his nose as he fought off a headache of exhaustion.

His reprieve was short lived and he flinched as the metal clanged again in loud protest. Dragging himself up, he moved slowly to peer out the office door, just in time to see the trapped animal beyond retreat a few sullen paces away from the bars after the latest spate of attacks. The librarian felt a pang of strange sympathy for that poor, battered cage. It had withstood more than its fair share of abuse over the years, and yet it still held its ground.

The wolf abruptly bared its teeth and drew back into a wary crouch as it spotted him, a low warning growl rumbling deep in its throat. Inky pools of feral black stared across the room to meet the tired and gently concerned gaze of the one who watched over him.

Giles leant heavily against doorframe as his body slumped. The words from their earlier conversation filtered back through his mind. He shook his head softly to himself, lines of sadness deepening the weathered crags on his face and shadows under his eyes. He'd quickly learned it was a fact of Sunnydale that children had to grow up quickly, and sometimes it seemed like adolescence got skipped over altogether in favour of survival and responsibility. They had faced things that no-one ever should, seen enough loss and tragedy that could easily break people twice their age. And he was so proud of all of them, grateful for everything that had helped keep them alive, despite the fact that their maturity bordered dangerously on jaded cynicism at times. It was all too easy to forget they were still so young in life; still confused teenagers who were acutely aware that their world spinning out of control. Sometimes it was too easy to forget the full extent of what some of them were struggling with; festering away in the silence. Growing up was hard enough even if you weren't living on a mouth to Hell, and all the fun party perks that came with that.

Giles sighed. There was no mistaking the fear and despising that had darted across his expression with those quiet words; breaking through those stoic defences as the moon lowered his guard in a way nothing else did. It was only a glimpse but it was a sharp reminder of what Giles too often over-looked: some demons were harder to escape than others. Guilt twinged inside his chest. He wished there was something more he could do. The fact that Oz never asked for his help, didn't excuse him from neglecting to try.

After all, lycanthropy was one of the most classic curses in mythology; there must be a plethora of material written on the subject. Granted, most of it would be fantasy and superstition, but you couldn't find the gold if you didn't sift through the silt. It couldn't ever hurt to research a bit further, if only to improve their understanding and offer support. His eyes brightened up momentarily at the thought. It really was quite a fascinating subject; though the Watcher was aware he would have to curb his academic enthusiasm if he was to avoid the risk of making Oz feel like a pet project.

Yet the glimmer soon died under the weight of the many other priorities that fell back on his mind. It was a good intention, but deep down, Giles knew that was all it could be. Between trying to thwart the Master from unleashing even more deadly chaos and searching for a way to return Willow back home and out of the line of fire, he simply didn't have the time and energy to spare on anything that didn't currently fall under the banner of 'critically urgent'. He felt his shoulders sag and the dull thumping behind his temples returned.

He let his tired gaze wash over the scene for another moment before he straightened, willing himself more alertness. A snarl rose up from the depths of the cage as he crossed over to the card index, careful to keep a safe and respectful distance from the wire bars. The fact remained that there were few things more dangerous and unpredictable than a cornered predator. Practised fingers flipped through the small drawer for a few minutes before he found the reference he was searching for. Scanning the card in his hand, Giles turned away towards the book cases, steps heavy with the trudge of stubborn determination.

Baleful eyes followed the human's every movement, sharp and resentful. Behind the fence of metal, the brooding wolf continued to stalk the floor of its confinement.

~o~

The library doors swung open with a careless bang. Surprised, Giles stuck his head out from the stacks and frowned.

"Annie?"

"Present and accounted for."

He watched her nudge some wayward flicks of hair over her shoulder as she walked in, gait as sure and confident as ever; hands stuck in the pockets of her black jacket. Her eyes swept over the room before settling on him.

Flipping closed the book in his hand, he descended the steps to meet her. He glanced at the clock then back at her. "You're, uh, rather early, aren't you?"

She shrugged, unconcerned. "Am I?"

"It's just, well, I wasn't expecting you for another hour or so. Is everything okay?"

"Just peachy." Familiar sarcasm bit into her voice for a moment before with some effort, she seemed to shake it away. She offered him a small smile of appeasement. "Yeah, I was just going a little stir-crazy at home. Figured I'd swing by and let you get away early for a change."

"Oh. Well, that's—"

Annie didn't let him finish, turning her attention instead towards the cage. She took a few curious steps forwards. "How's beastie boy doing anyway?"

Giles rubbed a hand down his face, eyes itchy with fatigue, before stepping up beside her, focusing his gaze likewise on the prowling animal inside. The cage echoed with a soft, warning thunder as the wolf glared back at his unwanted audience.

"He's, well… a little restless, I would say." As if to punctuate his words, the wolf snapped its jaws in their direction irritably. Annie raised her eyebrows but didn't flinch and didn't look away.

"Still, he should settle down eventually. He'll tire himself out, if nothing else." Wearily, he turned away, stifling the yawn that was trying to escape him.

"Jeez. Giles, you look like hell."

"Why, thank you," he muttered.

Annie tilted her head, watching him closely; the full force of her appraising stare turned on him, hands on her hips in a stance that reminded him briefly of Jenny. She narrowed her eyes. "I'm serious. 'Walking dead' is not a good look on you; people will think you've switched teams."

Giles paused to give her a patented look of un-amused exasperation, before returning to pulling up various folders from under the counter. "I'm touched by your concern, but I don't think I'm in danger of keeling over just yet."

"Still," Annie sidled up to the counter, laying her palms down flat as she stared at him. "When was the last time you got a decent rest? Get yourself home and get some sleep for once. You know," she leaned over, voice lowering in a mock conspiratorial whisper, "Traditionally, that's what night time was actually for. Crazy, I know."

"Yes, well, hazard of the job I'm afraid," he said absently, still reading the spines of various books as they passed through his hands before either replacing them or adding them to the stack on the desk.

Annie sighed, rocking back on her heels. "Look, I'm here now and fresh as a daisy – well, not quite but still a hell of a lot better than you. Don't look a gift horse in the mouth, or whatever. It's not like Oz needs two babysitters and you're nearly asleep at your post anyway-" She saw Giles open his mouth to correct her, but she ignored him. "Hey, I'm doing you a favour."

"Well, of course I was intending to head home at—"

"Great," she interrupted, seemingly satisfied. "Then get gone. Leave the all-nighters to the young and unemployed. We're good for something at least." She smiled to show she was teasing as Giles glanced up and regarded her with a stare of bemused vexation, before finally adjusting his glasses with a sigh.

"Fine, fine, I suppose. I'll just take a few things…"

Annie rolled her eyes as the librarian lifted the fresh stack of literature into his arms and disappeared back into his office, where she could hear him still mumbling to himself. He reappeared a few moments later, tugging his jacket on with one hand and gripping his bulging book bag with the other.

"Are you sure you don't want me to stay until he settles a bit-"

He cast an eye over the book cage behind her but Annie just shook her head, cutting him off. "I can handle one frisky werewolf. We'll be fine."

She saw the hesitation wavering on his face and was torn between laughing and stamping her foot in frustration. She settled for crossing her arms and fixing him with a stern look. "The world won't end if you go to bed like a normal person." She paused in an afterthought. "But if it does - I promise, we'll wake you."

Giles managed a strained smile and nodded in submission. "Just be careful."

Annie shrugged. "Hey, you know me."

He gave her a look that clearly indicated that he did indeed know her, and that was hardly helping to assure him. She huffed and gestured impatiently towards the door. Deciding to take the not-so-subtle hint, Giles adjusted his bag and felt for his car keys.

"Call if you need anything," he added as he fumbled his way towards the exit. Annie raised her eyes to the ceiling, which he took as a grudging 'fine'. "Well, goodnight. I'll see you-" he motioned in their direction, "- both in the morning." Then, with a last glance over his library, the exhausted Watcher gratefully turned for home.

Annie shook her head, a faint smile on her lips as she watched the swinging doors fall back into place after him. That man seriously needed to learn to let go a bit.

The quiet she had been craving slowly settled upon the library, broken only by a steady grumbling growl from the book cage. With a sigh, Annie gingerly pulled off her jacket as she prepared to settle in for the night. Laying the garment aside, she pressed her fingers carefully against the swelling bruise on her shoulder, still smarting from where she had crashed into the derelict gravestone. She turned her attention to her other arm, twisting it slightly so she could assess the stinging cuts and scrapes that adorned the skin between her wrist and her elbow. She brushed away the dirt that filled the wounds, glad there was no-one there to see her wince. She searched for any other immediate marks from her encounter, but saw nothing else but the familiar thin slash that ran up her arm. She hesitated for a second, touching a finger to the marked skin of the old wound. These cuts too would fade, some would disappear; but everything scars.

She flicked her head up and began to stretch out her sore muscles. At least the stupid vampire had managed to avoid her face; the last thing she would've needed was another lecture from Giles when she walked in. As things were, she seemed to have gotten away with her extra-curricular slaying. Sure, she had fresh aches and pains and the memory of another narrow escape, but he was dust, so she was fairly confident she could claim a win. Even if it was a very lucky one.

It had definitely taken the edge off her bad mood at least. Nothing like a little cathartic violence. Bracing her arms against the counter behind her, Annie hoisted herself up to sit on the check-out desk opposite the cage.

"Looks like it's just you and me then," she said conversationally as she rummaged through the jacket beside her. A rising snarl was all the response she got; which, frankly, was more than she got from the boy himself sometimes.

Dark eyes softened as her gaze traced the shifting outline of the animal across the room; fingers idly turning over the stake in her hands as she thought.

Yeah, as far as duties went, it wasn't a terrible way to spend a night.

~o~

The open curtains ruffled past her body as Willow paced across the limited floor space of her bedroom for the umpteenth time. When she reached the dresser again, she turned around and retraced her steps in the same pattern she had been repeating for the better part of an hour. Her teeth nipped lightly at the pads of her fingertips that were pressed against her mouth, anxious eyes narrowed at the carpet under her bare feet as if it were deliberately withholding information.

Coming to a sudden stop, she sighed in frustration and flopped down on the edge of her bed. Raising her head almost reluctantly, she stared across the room to the single window and the tauntingly ripe moon that glowed beyond, so far and so untouchable yet completely dominating the clear skyscape; a crowning white jewel drowning out the glitter of stars around it.

She ran both hands through her already tangled hair and looked away, trying to think, but her gaze was soon pulled back to the conflicting sight, like a magnetic field that was specifically attuned to her. How could she have forgotten? How had she managed to let this sneak up on her? Of course she could blame it on the disorienting effects of reality jumping; the time adjustment had undoubtedly thrown her when she had initially arrived. How many days or weeks had she skipped by crossing from one dimension to another? Still, Willow had always prided herself on knowing Oz's wolfy calendar by heart. She even used to mark them in her diary with little gold stars and random doodles, so she could do her best to plan around them and make sure she could be there for him. Of course, it didn't always work out – commitments and school sometimes got in the way – but she knew that in his own taciturn way, he had appreciated the effort.

She had been relieved earlier when Jenny had told her they wouldn't be patrolling tonight. After the revelations of the afternoon, she didn't feel up to facing Mike again so soon. Grateful for her unexpected reprieve, she hadn't questioned the decision, instead following Jenny's lead and opting for a well overdue early night. The significance of the date had dawned on her quite by accident: rolling awake from a restless slumber, only to find that she had been so pre-occupied before bed that she had fallen asleep with her curtains open. It took her another moment to register the familiar sight of the waxing moon that had since spun into full view of her window; silently reaching out with a ghostly siren call.

Her mind had been racing a mile a minute ever since: first panic, then guilt, then confusion tumbling through her. Hence the pacing.

After all, an emotional connection to the moon cycle had become just as much an ingrained habit of hers as it was his, but she suddenly wondered if it was now an unnecessary one. Different worlds, different lives. Who was to say the boy here even shared the same curse as her Oz once did? It may be a completely moot point now. No longer a part of who he was. Her heart swelled then constricted almost instantaneously at the thought. She hastily scrambled back to the logical side of her brain.

On the other hand, what were the odds that Jenny and the others would call off patrolling on the night before the full moon, by coincidence? Knowing what she once did, it was too much doubt for her to comfortably disregard. Moonlight washed through her window, giving her pale skin a sallow glow in the darkness. Her brow crinkled in deliberation. Even if it was the case, then the fact remained that they had knowingly pulled her out of the situation. I'm not meant to know, Willow reminded herself with a mental sigh. Another secret of her double life. And they didn't want her to know either, if tonight's ruling was anything to go by. They wanted her out of the way. But was that just their decision…or his?

She felt something inside break a little at the painful realisation. She took a deep breath. But, maybe, that was how things should be. At least for now. Maybe she shouldn't be there; maybe she should just respect their obvious wishes. She should be patient. And if…if he didn't want her there, what right did she have to force herself into that part of his life? A previous claim from a relationship that had died in her world and had never existed here? No, she had no right whatsoever anymore.

She had to play by their rules. And yet with her, rules seemed to have a habit of being thrown out the window whenever Oz was in the equation.

Pushing herself off the bed, she stood and moved back to the window, staring up at the sky that held so many questions. Her warm breath made misty clouds against the glass, her eyes closing as she strained her ears, as if she could catch the echo of a familiar howl on the night air.

She couldn't stand this. She couldn't pretend like he might not be out there. True, she may not be wanted, but what if she was needed? She had been through too much already to pull away from him now. Sure enough, she felt the fracture in her chest slowly remould into stubborn resolve. Because she was Willow, and this was Oz - and there were some parts of her nature that went too deep to ignore.

She had to know.

Blinking a few times as if she were coming out of a daze, Willow turned away from the window and picked up the clothes she had discarded just a few hours earlier. After stuffing the pockets of her jacket full of supplies, she slipped out into the hallway and carefully pulled her door to.

Slowly, she crept her way through the sleeping apartment, doing her best to shut out the unpleasant feeling of apprehension in her stomach as the reality of her decision settled in her mind. Wandering the streets of this new deadly Sunnydale, alone and at the height of the vamping hour - probably not her smartest idea. But since when had she been smart about any of this? When she reached the door, she fumbled for a second to find the locks in the dark before turning them back with a sharp 'clack'. She held her breath and listened for any sound from the direction of Jenny's bedroom. When none were forthcoming, she resumed breathing and let herself out of the apartment as quietly as possible.

Great. Now she just had to not die between here and the high school. Piece of cake.

~o~

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