Oz turned his attention back to their surroundings, noting that they'd entered another warehouse district. "So, Mistress Ky, what's on tap for tonight?"
She growled at him, eyes blazing. "I'm really gonna regret taking you there, aren't I?"
"If at all possible."
"Whatever, Master Zeb," she taunted. At his questioning look, she explained. "Ernie called you Zebinchak --- it means Werewolf."
"Ahh."
"So anyway, we're gonna check out Pan's place, then do a patrol on the way home. At which point there'll be food, 'cause I'm starving." She turned into the driveway of one of the warehouses and knocked loudly on a side door. Shortly, they could hear footsteps approaching from within. The door opened a crack to reveal a dimly lit interior. "Grach, it's me," Buffy called. The door opened fully.
"Sorry, Ky, you know how it is these days," he replied apologetically. His skin was a mottled mixture of oranges and reds, eyes yellow and cat-like. He had a long torso, and his head was covered with ropey spikes that jutted in an arc from his head out and over his back. When he smiled, he showed two neat rows of sharp, pointed teeth and his ears were small and flat along each side of his head beneath the spikes. He was dressed in jeans and a t-shirt.
"Cautious is good," Buffy agreed. "There's a meeting tomorrow night. You should hear about it from Wertong."
"OK." He looked curiously at Oz, who held out his hand and introduced himself. They nodded briefly at each other in greeting.
"Is Pan here?" Buffy asked, getting down to business. "I need to see him."
Grach stared at her and burst out laughing. "Oh damn! I never thought I'd see the day…" She looked ready to protest and cut him off, but he kept talking with obvious amusement. "I tell you what, darlin'. He's gonna be so pissed that Kyon the Glamazon finally came lookin' for him and he wasn't here."
Buffy glared. "Grach…" she started, but he cut her off.
"You're his Achilles' Heel, love. The only dame completely immune to his charms. It's ironic, 'cause you're the only one he actually cares about." He broke off, laughing some more. "He'll be so disappointed. But you know, if you'd consider accepting second best, I'm always here for ya!" He winked flirtatiously at her.
Buffy stepped forward, grinning, and kissed his cheek. "You'd never be second best to me, Grach."
"Pan's a lucky guy, Kyon," he murmured, admiringly.
"One more time. I…am…not…here…to…seduce…Pan," she emphasized, stamping her foot a little. Oz thought it was adorable. The two males exchanged looks and grinned.
"Alrighty, I'll play along. Why are you here?" he asked.
"I heard he didn't come home last night," she stated simply.
"Nope. Come to think of it, it is unusual for him not to be back by now." His catlike eyes grew serious, and he flicked a worried glance behind him into the warehouse as though expecting Pan to appear.
The Slayer sighed. "If he's missing, the Kuunchadri might be involved. You really need to come to the meeting tomorrow night. This isn't the time to be wearing your anti-social hat."
"OK, for you I will," he promised. "I've got your number, I'll call when Pan gets home."
"Thanks so much," she hugged him. "I'll call you if I find anything." They shared a worried look before he shut the door. They could hear his footsteps echoing away into the warehouse beyond.
"I hate being the bearer of bad news," Buffy muttered as they left. "I think people are afraid of me, 'cause they know if I'm around something shitty's going down. It's almost like I cause it."
Oz captured her gaze. "You know that's not how it works."
Buffy didn't respond, just smiled and felt grateful for his presence, however strange and unexpected. "OK, one task down. Now we just gotta finish our patrol through the demon-y districts, and it's home again, home again, jiggity jig."
"These living conditions are disheartening," Oz murmured, having come to the realization that the warehouse districts were filled, not with angry, destructive demons, but peaceable ones.
Buffy sighed. "We pass. Some, like Pan and Sandri, pass too. But most of them can't fit in with a world that won't acknowledge their existence. So they disappear and try to find jobs either for others of their kind or in situations where they don't have to be seen. Like telemarketing and home office work. Tay's getting her degree online…" She trailed off contemplatively.
He couldn't help but stare at her. Buffy was a strange creature; he'd never really been able to figure her out completely. She always managed to surprise him. Especially now that she'd morphed into SlayerBuffy, her every motion oozing power. Kyontar, that was more accurate. When she met his eyes, he felt the Wolf leap to attention in recognition.
"Weird, huh?" he asked, referring to the strangeness of their situation.
"Believe me when I say uh-huh," she smiled. "But in a good way."
They had finished their patrol through the demon districts and were on their way home when they were attacked. One minute, Oz was busily trying to piece together all the elements of this odd night and see what the final picture was, and the next he suddenly felt vampires. It must have been his newfound openness to his Wolf, because he'd never felt them before he saw or heard them. Maybe he smelled them somehow? He counted eight vamps stepping out of the shadows to encircle them.
"Slayer, who's your new friend?" their leader asked, doing his best to be intimidating.
Buffy scoffed. "As if I'm gonna tell you, Blood-breath."
Due to their enhanced hearing, they could pick out one of the vamps whining, "Why isn't she alone? She always does this route alone."
"Well, tonight's special," Oz remarked, and the vamp grimaced at being overheard.
"What's the penalty for whining?" Buffy asked, keeping her eyes glued to the vamp.
The Werewolf tilted his head, considering, and then suggested, "Death by spider bites."
"I don't have any spiders in my back pocket, but I do have this." She whipped out a stake, causing the vamps to growl menacingly.
"It does not matter," their leader hissed. At his signal, they attacked. "Kill the Slayer, but keep the newcomer alive until we know who he is."
Oz had whipped out a crossbow while the leader was speaking and immediately let a bolt fly at the nearest vamp. Bingo! Dusted. He quickly moved away from Buffy to give her room to fight properly, placing his back against the wall of the nearest building. Two of the vamps were sent to guard him while the other five charged the Slayer together. She whirled and ducked with frightening speed, lashing out in every direction at once. Slowly, the number of vamps attacking her dwindled to zero and she turned to face Oz. Still holding his crossbow, he quickly turned on one of his guards and dusted him. Buffy lunged at the last vamp, pinning him beneath her on the ground, stake to chest. Oz joined her and aimed his bow for good measure.
"Well," the Slayer began, chuckling good-naturedly. "This wasn't in my lesson plan, but it'll have to do."
The vamp growled and bucked beneath her, desperate to get free. Buffy placed her hand around his throat and slammed his head back into the pavement. "What do you want?" he gargled.
"What do I want?" she repeated, slapping him hard across the face. "I want a lot of things. From you, I just want some info. Easy peasy, just answer a few questions."
"Why should I?" he growled defiantly. "You're gonna kill me anyway."
She sighed, delivering a strong uppercut to the vamp's chin. "Too true, can't argue with you there, Fangs. But you do get a choice. You can answer my questions nice-like, and I'll kill you quickly --- or you can be a bitch about it and make me angry. And then I'll make sure your death lasts for weeks." Her voice dropped, becoming low and sibilant, and Oz shivered. The Wolf responded to her tone and wanted out. "Maybe I'll chain you up and let you bleed out slowly 'til there's nothing left but a shell. Or maybe I'll saw you to pieces, inch by inch. There's a lot of ways to keep you alive for as long as I wanna play." She trailed off, and the street fell silent.
"OK OK! I'll talk. No chains," the vamp sputtered.
"Right then!" she smiled brightly. "First question. Whom do you work for?"
"Wha…what?" he asked.
She growled. "I said whom do you work for? Don't make me repeat myself."
"Uh, I dunno! The boss handled that shit."
"So you attacked me on someone else's orders," she confirmed.
"Yeah. We were told you always patrolled alone," he complained.
Buffy laughed a little, bitterly. "Sorry to disappoint. I do, occasionally, have a friend." Oz looked at her thoughtfully and she sighed. What a night. Sold out for not having a life by a pack of vamps. "Do you know anything about the mystery dude? Is he human, vamp, demon, Sorcerer…"
"Oh yeah!" the vamp said, nodding. "Heard the boss mention a Sorcerer."
"Name? Location? Shoe size? How to get in touch with him or her?" she prodded.
"Right… uh, no name, but it's definitely a him."
"Oh boy, I'm just reeling with all this helpful information," Buffy snarked.
"Sorry," the vamp muttered quickly, obviously still fearful of her vivid threats. "They don't tell us much."
Buffy suddenly found herself in the strange position of feeling slightly sorry for this vamp. She shook it off. He had played along and earned his swift death only because she'd forced him to. "Have you heard of the Kuunchadri?"
The vamp gasped. "Duh, Slayer, everyone has." He gulped.
"I don't mean the Destructors, I mean a new group of demons that teleport around town and are wiping out everyone that gets in their way.
"No, I haven't heard anything about that," he said. Buffy sighed and staked him quickly.
She stood up rapidly, surprising Oz who was still looming where the vampire's head used to be. They were standing very close, and a tense silence fell over them. Buffy wondered what he thought about how she'd treated the vamp. He seemed to sense this, and said quietly, "You did what you had to do."
She grumbled, frustrated. "It seems like such a waste, though. We didn't even learn much."
"Sure we did," was his easy reply. "We know there's definitely a Sorcerer dude involved now. That's big."
They ambled back to Buffy's house, each lost in their own thoughts. Once inside, she motioned for him to sit quietly on the couch. Complying, he watched silently as she took a glass jar from the hall closet and made a small circle on the floor with the sandy substance within. Settling cross-legged inside the circle, she appeared to be meditating, arms outstretched to either side of her body. Several moments later, she began to chant quietly under her breath. Somehow, the effect was soothing to him, like the twinkling lights in the bar.
Oz wasn't against all magic, per se, but he had been firmly opposed to Willow's quest for power. He hadn't understood his fears then, and had almost convinced himself that he was just afraid of magic altogether. But he'd never felt that sense of unease in the face of Giles' magic, or the magic of the mages he'd worked with to try and suppress the Wolf. Here again, with Buffy, whatever magic she was performing seemed an extension of her, and didn't leave him with the jagged, forced feeling of Willow's exploits. Maybe it was because Willow wasn't a natural witch, like Jenny Calendar, Tara, or even Giles. And she wasn't demonically enhanced in any way like Buffy or himself. Her real talent was channeling the magic of others, and she had learned which forces would respond to her demands, namely the dark kind.
His attention snapped back to the present when the circle around Buffy began to glow, and her eyes flashed the same dazzling colors they had in the bar. The roof and walls were bathed with brilliant light in matching hues, and Oz could make out a magical barrier surrounding the house. Then, it winked out and she began to disperse the circle. Task finally completed, she moved to sit by Oz on the couch, watching him carefully.
"Um…" she hedged uncertainly.
"Magical barrier?"
She gave a small smile of relief. "Yeah. The Furies helped me with it. It taps into my Slayer powers and doesn't let anyone in that I don't invite, human and demon alike. I have to amp it up every once in a while." After a moment's pause, she continued. "Oz, I know you've got issues with magic, but…" She stopped when he shook his head vehemently.
"Not all magic," he replied firmly. "I know it probably seemed that way since I tried to discourage Will. But whenever she did magic, it felt wrong to me. And after a while, that wrong feeling seemed to be inside her. Like I felt it all the time, not just when she did a spell."
Buffy sighed. "I felt it, too. I thought it was the Slayer part of me pointing out that she was a witch. Giles felt different, but he was my Watcher. And Jenny, well, she was a gypsy. It wasn't until I met Tara that I knew for sure something was off. Tara felt powerful, but comforting and safe. When Will started pursuing magic, she felt dangerous. I can't believe I ignored that."
Oz leaned back into the couch, trying to ease the tension in his limbs. "I made the same mistake. I was so busy denying the Wolf that I dismissed all the things it tried to tell me."
She pulled a throw pillow into her lap for comfort and began to pick absently at its fraying edges. "I feel so responsible. There were signs all along. I mean, when you left she cast a 'will be done' spell that inadvertently caused Giles to go blind, me to get engaged to Spike, and Xander to become a demon magnet. That's big-time power. And to top it all off, D'Hoffryn offered her a vengeance gig."
His eyes were shadowed with regret. "I should've stayed…helped her more… But I was too afraid of myself to stay." He paused, as though coming to some internal decision, and then continued. "I should've talked to you that day."
Buffy sighed, knowing exactly which moment he was referring to. "I understood why you didn't. You didn't know how I'd react, and I was Willow's friend first…"
"No," he interrupted. "Whatever strange bond we have, Wolf/Slayer or maybe just like calling to like… I KNEW you were reaching out, finally speaking the unspoken, because you could tell I needed help. I pretended not to understand."
"Well, welcome to the Handled Things Badly Club, of which I am a charter member. But Oz, you're only allowed to blame yourself for YOUR actions, not Willow's. Everyone experiences loss and abandonment, but they manage to get through it without invoking the Great Rufie Spirit." She sat quietly for a moment, and then chuckled wryly. "I, for example, ran away and went to Hell instead. Admittedly not my brightest career move."
He grinned. "Take a page from your own book. If I can't play the self-blame game, then neither can you."
Jumping up from the couch, she waved her hands in surrender. "Alright, I give. You hungry?"
"I could eat."
"Good. Pizza OK?" At his nod, she went into the kitchen to order.
Oz smiled as he listened, noting that after all these years she remembered what he liked. He sauntered in to join her as she hung up the phone. "Time to call Wesley now?" he nudged gently.
She turned the full force of her Slayer glare upon him. "Did I mention how thrilled I am that you're here?" she asked, voice dripping with sarcasm. He just grinned unrepentantly and returned to the living room to watch TV.