Buffy the Vampire Slayer: "Phases"

Sunnydale High - The Hallway

The afternoon sun filtered through the high windows of Sunnydale High as Willow stepped into the hallway. She spotted Oz by the trophy case, his gaze fixed intently on a cheerleader trophy. She approached quietly, and when he noticed her, his face lit up with a warm smile.

"Hi," Willow greeted, a little shyly.

Oz returned the greeting with his usual understated charm. "That's what I was going to say."

She nodded toward the trophy case. "Whatcha looking at?"

Oz tilted his head thoughtfully, still studying the cheerleader trophy. "This trophy. It's like its eyes follow you wherever you go." He leaned to one side, then the other, as though testing his theory. "I like it."

They chuckled softly together as they continued walking down the hallway, side by side. After a moment, Willow glanced over at him. "So, did you like the movie last night?"

Oz shrugged. "I don't know. Today's movies are kind of like popcorn. You forget about them as soon as they're done." He flashed her a small grin. "I do remember I liked the popcorn, though."

Willow smiled, blushing slightly. "Yeah, it was good. And I had a really fun time at the rest… I mean, the part with you."

Oz's smile widened. "That's great, because my time was also of the good."

"Mine, too," she said, her eyes hopeful as she looked up at him, expecting him to lean in.

They lingered, a faint nervousness hanging between them. Willow waited, her heart beating a little faster… but Oz just stood there, seemingly content in the silence. After a few seconds, the moment began to feel awkward. Desperate to escape, Willow spotted Buffy in the lounge and jumped at the opportunity.

"Oh, there. I have… my friend. So I will go to her," she said, gesturing toward Buffy.

"Alright. I'll see you then. Later," Oz replied, watching her go.

Willow joined Buffy just as a group of jocks led by Larry strolled over to Oz, their presence disrupting the hallway's peace. Larry cast a leering look toward Willow and Buffy, his gaze lingering with crude appreciation.

"Man, Oz, I would love to get me some of that Buffy and Willow action, if you know what I mean," Larry drawled, an obnoxious grin on his face.

Oz raised an eyebrow, unimpressed. "Good job, Larry. You've really mastered the single entendre."

As they spoke, a girl walked by, arms filled with books. Larry reached out and 'accidentally' knocked them out of her hands. As she bent to retrieve them, Larry and his cronies snickered, their eyes lingering.

"Thank you, Thighmaster!" Larry sneered, earning brainless laughs from his friends.

Turning his attention back to Oz, Larry's smirk grew. "So, Oz, man, what's up with that? Dating a junior? Let me guess – that innocent schoolgirl thing is just an act, right?"

Oz kept his cool, his expression as calm and unreadable as ever. "Yeah, she's actually an evil mastermind. It's fun."

Larry's grin grew lewd. "She's gotta be putting out, or what's the point? What are you gonna do, talk? Come on, fess up – how far have you got?"

Oz's eyes flashed for a brief moment, and he turned to Larry with a quiet, intellectual chill. "Go to hell, Larry."

With that, Oz turned away, leaving Larry and his cronies looking after him, silenced by the sheer finality of his words.

Sunnydale High - The Library

In the quiet of the Sunnydale High library, Brenwyn leaned across the table, holding up a flashcard with a mischievous glint in her eyes. Xander slouched across from her, doing his best to appear studious.

"Alright, Xander," she teased, tapping the flashcard lightly on the table. "Let's see what you've got. Who was the main author of the Declaration of Independence?"

Xander leaned forward, scratching his head. "Uh… Franklin?"

Brenwyn stifled a laugh, shaking her head. "Close, but no cigar. He was definitely involved, but who actually penned it?"

Xander's brow furrowed. "Um… wait! Jefferson, right?"

She grinned. "Bingo! See? You do have it in you." Her smile softened, and she leaned forward, her voice dropping to a gentle murmur. "I knew you had a secret genius hidden somewhere in there."

Xander raised his eyebrows, feigning offense. "Hidden genius? Please, Brenwyn, it's a very subtle genius. You have to really dig to find it."

"Well," she said, a playful glint in her eyes, "Lucky for you, I'm good at digging. Want to try another?"

He shrugged with a smirk, leaning in. "Bring it on. I've got at least two more historical figures up my sleeve."

"Alright, smarty-pants," she replied, holding up another card. "Who's known as the 'Father of the Constitution'?"

Xander wrinkled his nose. "Is that… James Madison?"

Brenwyn's eyes widened in mock surprise. "Look at you, nailing it again! Xander, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you might actually be turning into a history nerd."

Xander chuckled, leaning a bit closer. "Well, if being a history nerd means studying with you, then maybe I'll keep brushing up."

She felt a faint blush warm her cheeks, but she played it cool, raising an eyebrow. "Oh, really? You might regret it. I take my history very seriously."

"Maybe you'll go easy on me for this exam," Xander replied, giving her a grin. "I mean, if I don't pass, who's gonna protect the helpless citizens of Sunnydale?"

Brenwyn raised an eyebrow, deadpan. "I think Buffy's got it covered."

Xander feigned shock, clutching his chest. "Ouch, that stings, Brenwyn."

She smirked, tapping her flashcard against her lips thoughtfully before a playful gleam sparked in her eyes. "Tell you what, if you get this next question right, I'll give you a kiss. A well-earned, 'hero in training' kiss."

Xander's grin grew mischievous. "Now that's what I call motivation. Hit me with your best shot, teach."

Brenwyn bit back a smile, flipping to the next card. "Alright, Xander. Who gave the famous 'Give me liberty or give me death' speech?"

Xander's eyes narrowed as he concentrated, the corners of his mouth twitching with anticipation. "Patrick Henry."

A smile spread across Brenwyn's face. "Correct!"

Before he could say another word, she leaned forward, pressing her lips to his in a gentle, warm kiss that lingered just long enough to leave them both a little breathless.

As they pulled back, a dry British voice filled the room. "While I hate to interrupt the budding romance, I must remind you both that this is a library, a sacred space for research and study, not romantic interludes."

Both of them jumped as they turned to see Giles standing at the edge of the library, arms folded, a bemused look on his face.

"Giles!" Brenwyn's cheeks flushed as she tried to keep her composure. "We were… studying. History."

Giles nodded, his expression softening into something almost playful. "Yes, I could hear every part of your 'studying' from my office. The quizzing, the flirting, the…" He cleared his throat, giving Xander a pointed look. "Kissing."

Xander raised his hands in mock surrender. "Guilty as charged, Giles. But hey, Brenwyn's quizzes are way more effective than yours."

Giles sighed, shaking his head but with a small, tolerant smile. "Be that as it may, I'd appreciate it if you'd both refrain from, er, kissing in my sacred space of learning."

Brenwyn stifled a laugh. "Noted, Giles. We'll keep it strictly academic from here on out."

"Very good," Giles said with a wry smile. "Now, carry on with your history review, if you're quite through… exchanging answers."

As he disappeared back into his office, Xander turned to Brenwyn with a grin. "Guess that's as close as Giles gets to giving us his blessing."

Brenwyn laughed softly, rolling her eyes. "We'll take it." She held up another card, her smile flirtatious. "Now, are you ready for the next question?"

Sunnydale High - The Student Lounge

The Sunnydale High student lounge hummed with low conversations and laughter as Buffy and Willow settled into a corner by the windows. The sun filtered in, casting a soft glow over them as Buffy turned to her friend, her expression curious.

"So," Buffy began with a knowing smile, "How are things going between you and Oz?"

Willow sighed, her cheeks pinkening slightly. "Nowhere! I mean, he said he was gonna wait till I was ready, but… I'm ready! Honest. I'm good to go here."

Buffy chuckled, giving her an understanding look. "I think it's nice he's not just being an animal."

"Oh, it is nice," Willow agreed, fidgeting with the hem of her sweater. "He's great. We have a lot of fun. But…" She sighed, a small pout forming. "I want some smoochies."

Buffy leaned in, amused. "Have you dropped any hints?"

"I've dropped anvils," Willow replied, exasperated.

"He'll come around," Buffy said confidently. "What guy could resist your wily, Willow charms?"

Willow shook her head, looking forlorn. "At last count? All of them. Maybe more."

Buffy gave her a reassuring smile. "Well, none of them know a thing. They all get an 'F' in Willow."

"But I want Oz to get an 'A,'" Willow insisted, her eyes lighting up. "And, ooh, one of those gold stars."

"He will," Buffy assured her.

Willow let out a wistful sigh, glancing around at the couples in the lounge. "Well, he better hurry. I don't want to be the only girl in school without a real boyfriend."

Buffy's gaze drifted, and her expression softened, lost in thought. She couldn't help but think of Angel, the weight of her memories pressing down. Noticing the shift, Willow's face fell, realizing her words might have hit a nerve.

"Oh, I'm such an idiot," Willow said quickly, guilt washing over her. "I'm sorry. I shouldn't even be talking about… do you want me to go away?"

Buffy shook her head, a small, bittersweet smile tugging at her lips. "I wish you wouldn't."

Willow's eyes softened, carefully testing the waters. "How are you holding up, anyway?"

Buffy sighed, glancing at her watch as if it could distract her. "I'm holding. I was going on close to two minutes there without thinking about Angel."

Willow beamed encouragingly. "Well, there you go!"

Buffy's smile flickered, her gaze distant again. "But I'd be holding better if you, Xander, Brenwyn, and I could do that 'sharing our misery' thing tonight."

Willow's face lit up, happy to support her friend. "Absolutely! You know we're there for you."

Buffy managed a grateful smile, feeling a little lighter.

Sunnydale - "Makeout Park"

Night had fallen over Makeout Park, casting a silvery glow under the full moon. Inside Cordelia's car, she and Devon were deep into a heated makeout session, oblivious to the quiet stillness outside. The world around them seemed a distant thought—until Devon suddenly pulled away, his mind drifting.

"Do you know how hard it is to keep a band together?" Devon began, exasperated.

Cordelia leaned back with an annoyed sigh, gently resting her hand on his arm. "Devon, look around. I've got my dad's car. It's just the two of us. There's a big, full moon. It doesn't get any more romantic than this." She paused, then fixed him with a glare. "So shut up!"

With that, she grabbed him, pulling him back into the kiss. But just as their lips met, Devon pulled back again, his brow furrowing as he glanced out the window.

"Did you hear that?" he asked, his voice hushed.

Cordelia's patience was wearing thin. "What is it now?"

"I thought I heard something…" he said, peering out into the darkness, a frown crossing his face.

She rolled her eyes, her tone laced with sarcasm. "Oh, is Oz sending some sort of band-related distress signal that only you can hear?"

Devon squinted into the night but saw nothing. "Huh…"

Shrugging, they leaned toward each other again, only for Devon to jolt back suddenly, his eyes wide with alarm.

"Okay, now I know I heard something!"

Cordelia threw her hands up, moving away in frustration. "That's it! Your mind has been not here all night. How about I just drop you off at—"

A loud, tearing sound split through the air as a massive, clawed paw ripped through the convertible top, swiping down between them. Both of them screamed, pressing themselves against the car doors as a terrifying, hairy, snouted face pushed through the gash. The eyes of the werewolf gleamed in the moonlight, teeth bared.

"Get us out of here!" Devon yelled, his face pale with terror.

Cordelia scrambled, reaching desperately for the ignition. "Where're the keys?!"

Her hands fumbled around the floor in panic as the werewolf continued slashing at the roof, its claws tearing through the fabric. Devon kicked wildly, trying to keep the creature at bay.

"We should be moving! Let's go!" he shouted, his voice high with fear.

"Got 'em!" Cordelia cried triumphantly, snatching up the keys. She jammed them into the ignition, and with a roar, the engine came to life. Throwing the car into gear, she floored it, the tires screeching as they backed up. The werewolf clung to the top, its claws digging into the metal, but as the car lurched forward, it was thrown off with a final shake.

Without a second glance, Cordelia and Devon sped away into the night, their hearts racing.

Devon's voice broke the silence, his face still twisted in shock. "Told you I heard something!"

Sunnydale High - The Parking Lot

In the bright afternoon sun, Buffy, Willow, Brenwyn, Xander, and Oz gathered around Cordelia's car, staring in disbelief at the shredded remains of the convertible top. The tattered fabric flapped slightly in the breeze, evidence of the previous night's terror. Cordelia, arms crossed, looked at them, exasperation clear in her expression.

Buffy glanced over at her, brow raised. "And you're sure it was a werewolf?"

Cordelia huffed, tapping her foot. "Let's see: six feet tall, claws, big ol' snout right in the middle of a face like a wolf. Yeah, I'm sticking with my first guess."

"Seems wise," Oz remarked with his usual understated calm.

Cordelia nodded. "Oh, and there was that little thing where it tried to bite us."

Just then, Giles joined them, holding a folded newspaper. He looked over Cordelia's car with mild surprise, then turned to the group.

Buffy asked, "What's the word on the street?"

Giles held up the paper, showing the headline to the group. "It seems there were several other attacks last night, allegedly by a 'wild dog.' A number of animal carcasses were found… mutilated."

Willow's face twisted with unease. "Ohh… you mean bunnies and stuff?" She cringed. "No, don't tell me."

Oz gave her a small, reassuring smile. "Don't worry. They may not look it, but bunnies can really take care of themselves."

Willow looked at him, half-convinced. "Yeah?"

Giles cleared his throat. "Fortunately, no people were injured."

Buffy crossed her arms, a touch of skepticism in her tone. "That falls into the 'that's a switch' column."

Giles nodded thoughtfully. "For now. But my guess is this werewolf will be back at next month's full moon."

Brenwyn, who'd been listening quietly, tilted her head with a curious expression. "What about tonight's full moon?"

Giles paused, caught off guard. "Pardon?"

Brenwyn gave him a wry smile. "Last night was the night before the full moon. Traditionally known as… the night before the full moon."

Giles' eyes narrowed, considering her point. "Meaning the accepted legend that werewolves only prowl during the full moon might be erroneous."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Or it could be a crock."

"Unless your werewolf is still using last year's almanac," Xander quipped, grinning.

Buffy shrugged, glancing over at Giles. "Looks like you've got some schoolin' to do, Giles."

Giles' eyes sparkled with intrigue as he considered the challenge. "I must admit, I'm intrigued. A werewolf? It's one of the classics… I'm sure my books and I are in for a fascinating afternoon."

The group watched as Giles turned and walked toward the school, already lost in thoughts of research and study.

Buffy shook her head, smirking. "He needs to get a pet."

Sunnydale High - They Gymnasium

The gymnasium buzzed with idle chatter as students stood on red mats, their voices hushed as they eyed Ms. Litto, a stern, no-nonsense woman with an imposing presence. She scanned the group, her gaze sharp.

"Sunnydale is becoming more dangerous all the time," she began, her voice firm. "And a full moon like tonight tends to bring out the crazies. But with some simple basics of self-defense, each of you can learn how to protect yourselves…"

Buffy leaned over to Willow, muttering, "Here's a suggestion: move away from the Hellmouth."

Ms. Litto continued, oblivious, "Okay, everyone get into your assigned groups."

The students broke apart, shuffling into clusters. Larry shrugged off his jacket, revealing a large bandage wrapped around his upper arm. Xander, noticing, raised a brow.

"What happened to you?" he asked.

Larry smirked, flexing a little. "Last week, some huge dog jumped out of the bushes and bit me. Thirty-nine stitches. They ought to shoot those strays."

Oz gave a sympathetic nod, holding up a finger as he chimed in. "I've been there, man. My cousin Jordy. Just got his grown-up teeth in. Does not like to be tickled."

Willow, leaning closer, observed the injury. "Looks like it healed already."

Oz shrugged, a faint smile on his face. "The emotional scar is still there."

Nearby, Larry sauntered over to Theresa, a small, timid-looking girl who looked visibly uncomfortable under his scrutiny.

"Theresa," he sneered, his voice thick with mock charm. "Be still my shorts. We're in the same group." He flashed her a cruel grin. "I may have to attack you."

Theresa looked nervously at him, stammering, "No, I think, actually, in our group, there're a few of us—"

Before Larry could press further, Buffy stepped in, placing herself squarely between him and Theresa. "Yeah. And I'm one of the few," she said, her tone edged with warning.

Theresa gratefully slipped away, and Willow pulled Buffy aside with a gentle reminder.

"Don't forget," Willow whispered. "You're supposed to be a meek little girlie-girl like the rest of us."

Buffy smirked, rolling her eyes. "Spoil my fun."

Willow moved to join Xander and Brenwyn in their group. Xander was tugging a large padded helmet over his head, fumbling as he adjusted it.

"Be gentle with me," he joked, looking pitiful.

Brenwyn grinned wickedly. "I make no promises."

With a playful glint in her eye, Brenwyn blocked Xander's mock attack, quickly gaining the upper hand. In a swift, fluid motion, she had him pinned on the mat, landing squarely atop his hips and knocking the wind out of him.

"Checkmate," she murmured, smiling down at him.

Xander wheezed, catching his breath, "I think… I need to study… this move more often."

Across the gym, Ms. Litto's voice rang out, drawing everyone's attention. "Alright, everyone, listen up. I want to show you what to do should you be attacked from behind."

In demonstration, Larry stepped behind Buffy, wrapping his arms around her with a grin. Ms. Litto began explaining the technique, but Buffy's focus shifted as Larry's hold tightened.

"In this situation," Ms. Litto instructed, "bend forward, using your back and shoulders to flip your assailant over and to the ground."

Buffy gave a half-hearted attempt, pretending to strain, "Unh… Mnh…"

Larry smirked, whispering close to her ear. "You're turning me on, Summers."

His hand slid lower, grabbing a handful of Buffy's rear. Buffy's expression shifted, her patience snapping. In a blur, she grabbed hold of Larry, her grip iron-strong, and flipped him over her shoulder with ease, slamming him hard into the mat.

The gym fell silent as everyone looked down at Larry, who lay sprawled, groaning on the mat. Oz raised an eyebrow, looking impressed.

"That works, too," he said dryly.

Sunnydale High - The Library

Later that day, the library was dimly lit, with a warm glow coming from a desk lamp that cast long shadows across Giles' makeshift demonstration. He stood before Buffy, Brenwyn, Willow, and Xander, holding a globe of the earth in one hand and a model of the moon in the other, the lamp positioned to simulate the sun.

"…And while there's no scientific explanation for the moon's effect on the human psyche," Giles explained, his voice calm and steady, "the phases of the moon do exert a great deal of psychological influence. A full moon, in particular, tends to bring out our… darker qualities."

Xander leaned back with a grin. "And, ironically, it also led to the invention of the moon pie."

The girls shot him a look, unimpressed, then turned back to Giles. Unexpectedly, Giles chuckled to himself, murmuring, "Moon pie…" His amusement faded under their stares, and he quickly composed himself.

"You see," he continued, clearing his throat, "a werewolf is such a potent, extreme representation of our inborn, animalistic traits that it emerges for three consecutive nights—the full moon and the two nights surrounding it."

Willow leaned in, intrigued. "Quite the party animal."

"Quite," Giles agreed. "It acts purely on instinct, without conscience. Predatory and aggressive."

"In other words," Buffy quipped, crossing her arms, "your typical male."

Xander raised his hands, feigning offense. "On behalf of my gender: hey!"

Giles shook his head, a faint smile breaking through. "Let's not jump to conclusions."

"I didn't jump," Buffy said with a smirk. "I took a tiny step. And there conclusions were."

Giles sighed. "The point is, our wolf-man could just as easily be a wolf-woman. Or anyone who's been bitten by a werewolf."

Xander glanced at his watch, his expression growing tense. "And whoever it is will be changing at any moment."

"'Cause it'll be night soon," Brenwyn added, reaching over to spin the globe half a turn, demonstrating the earth's rotation into darkness.

"So," Xander began, glancing at Giles, "I'm guessing your standard-issue silver bullets are in order here?"

Giles shook his head firmly. "No. No bullets. No matter who this werewolf is, it's still a human being. And they might be completely unaware of his—or her—condition."

Buffy nodded, determination in her eyes. "So tonight we bring 'em back alive."

Sunnydale - "Makeout Park"

The full moon cast a silvery glow over Makeout Park, illuminating the line of parked cars, each one occupied by teenagers lost in the haze of a perfect, star-lit night. Between two cars, Buffy and Giles met, both on high alert. Giles carried a bag brimming with hunting supplies, his face set in concentration.

"Anything yet?" Giles asked, scanning the shadows.

Buffy grinned, casting a glance at a nearby car. "Yes. And you won't believe it! Lisa Hamm is over there making out with Tim Bushway. But he's dating Mandy Donaldson. If she ever finds out—" She paused, noticing Giles' pointed look. "Nothing. Not a werewolf in sight. You?"

Giles shook his head. "The same. I thought we might knock on a few windows, ask if anyone has seen anything."

Buffy gave him a skeptical look. "Giles? No one's seen anything."

"Yes. Of course not," he muttered, adjusting his glasses. They split up, each slipping into the shadows on opposite ends of the park.

Buffy moved quietly toward the edge of the trees, her senses sharp. A rustle in the bushes caught her attention. She tensed, her gaze narrowing as she lunged into the darkness—only to find herself yanked off her feet, trapped in a net that snapped her into the air.

"Giles!" she shouted, struggling against the tangled cords as she swayed overhead.

A rugged figure emerged from the shadows, his face twisted into a smug smile. He wore dark clothing and boots, with a string of sharp teeth dangling from his neck. A rifle gleamed in his hands as he aimed it at the flailing net.

"Gotcha," he said, lowering his rifle slightly as he peered up at Buffy.

"Giles…!" Buffy called again, her voice tinged with irritation.

The man poked the net with the end of his rifle, causing her to flinch. "Ow!"

"Hey!" Giles called, hurrying over with his hands raised as he spotted the stranger. The man turned his rifle toward Giles, who froze.

"The hands are good right about there…" the stranger said, his tone casual but firm.

"Who are you?" Giles asked, his voice tense. "And what exactly do you think you're doing?"

The man smirked. "The name's Cain. I'm the one with the gun, which means I'm the one who gets to do the interviewing."

Buffy sighed, rolling her eyes from her precarious position. "You know, before we get all chummy, could we do something about this 'me being in a net' thing?"

Cain glanced up at her, then pulled a knife from his belt. With one swift motion, he sliced through the rope, sending Buffy tumbling unceremoniously to the ground. Giles moved quickly to help her untangle herself, his face full of concern.

"Are you all right?" he asked, brushing leaves off her shoulder.

Buffy dusted herself off, glaring at Cain. "I could've done without the poking."

Cain looked her up and down with a sleazy grin. "I gotta say, I'm impressed."

Giles' expression darkened. "Excuse me?"

Cain's gaze lingered on Buffy. "It's good to get the fruit while it's fresh."

Giles stiffened, his eyes flashing with anger. "You'd be wise to take that back."

Cain laughed dismissively. "Hey, what a man and a girl are doing in Lovers' Lane at night is nobody's—"

Giles took a step forward, but Buffy quickly moved between them, stopping him with a gentle hand. She turned to Cain, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "It's not what you think, repulsive brain." She raised an eyebrow at his mocking grin. "We're hunting a werewolf."

For a beat, Cain stared at her, then broke into a mocking laugh. "Sure, it's funny if you don't believe in werewolves…"

"Oh, I believe in them," Cain said, wiping a tear from his eye. "I just think it's hilarious you two are trying to catch one!" He gestured at Giles. "This guy looks like he's auditioning to be a librarian. And you, well, you're a girl."

Giles stepped forward, his expression firm. "I assure you, she's more than capable."

"Uh-huh." Cain shifted his attention back to Buffy. "Let me ask you something, sweetheart. Exactly how many of these animals have you taken out?"

Buffy hesitated. "As of today?"

Cain lifted the necklace of teeth that dangled around his neck. "I tore a tooth from the mouth of every werewolf I've killed. This next one will bring the total to an even dozen."

Buffy's expression turned cold as she glanced at Giles, then back to Cain. "You're just going to kill it?"

Cain shrugged. "See, that's the thing. Their pelts fetch a pretty penny in Sri Lanka, and it's a little hard to skin 'em when they're alive."

Giles' face twisted with disgust. "You're hunting werewolves for sport?"

"Oh, no," Cain said, grinning. "I'm in it purely for the money."

Buffy's eyes narrowed. "And it doesn't bother you just a smidge that werewolves are people 28 days out of the month?"

Cain chuckled darkly. "You know, it does bother me. Quite a bit." He smirked. "That's why I only hunt them the other three."

Without another word, Cain began packing up his gear, his movements casual, as if he had no fear of the Slayer or her Watcher. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he looked back at Buffy. "I'd love to stick around and chat, but I'm on a tight schedule. Any idea where else the boys and girls like to get together in this town?"

Buffy crossed her arms. "You looking for a party?"

"No, but the werewolf is. They're suckers for that whole 'sexual heat' thing. Sense it from miles away. But since the little doggie ain't here, it must have found another place."

"Wish we could help you," Buffy said, voice dripping with sarcasm, "but—"

"Yeah, you don't know squat?" Cain interrupted, his tone dismissive. "Gee, what a surprise."

With that, he turned and strode off into the shadows. Buffy watched him go, a steely determination flashing in her eyes. She grabbed the bag of hunting supplies from Giles' hand and started away, her steps purposeful.

"Where are we going?" Giles asked, falling into stride beside her.

Buffy's lips curved into a grim smile. "I think I know where to look. We just have to make it there before Mein Furrier."

Sunnydale High - The Bronze

Inside the Bronze, the air buzzed with the excitement of youth, illuminated by colorful lights and filled with the rhythmic pulse of music. Couples tangled together in amorous embraces, kissing their way up the stairs, seeking a little privacy away from prying eyes. Cordelia sat at a small table, animatedly talking to Willow, who listened with a frown.

"With Devon, it's always 'I have rehearsal' or 'We have a show tonight,'" she complained, crossing her arms. "It's as if I don't even exist."

Willow offered a sympathetic nod. "I sometimes feel like that."

"And then when I call him on it," Cordelia continued, her voice tinged with irritation, "he acts all confused, like I'm the one with the problem."

Willow sighed knowingly. "The 'Do I smell something?' look."

Cordelia nodded, her expression indignant. "Exactly! All part of his little guy-games. He's there, then he's not there. He wants it, but he doesn't want it."

Willow leaned in, her voice soft. "He's so busy looking around at everything he doesn't have that he doesn't even realize what he does have."

"Exactly!" Cordelia agreed. Then she glanced at Willow. "At least you have Oz. He's not one to play games."

Willow frowned, looking down at her hands. "I'm not sure I do. Right now, Oz and I are in some sort of holding pattern. Only without the holding… or anything else."

Cordelia rolled her eyes. "Well, what's he waiting for? What's his problem?" She paused. "Oh, that's right. He's a guy."

"Yeah," Willow sighed. "Guys."

"Who do they think they are?"

"A couple of guys," Willow replied.

They exchanged a nod of agreement, only to be interrupted by a sudden crash as the werewolf came barreling down from above, landing right on their table. Drinks flew, and Cordelia and Willow scrambled from their chairs, eyes wide with terror.

"Come on! This way!" Willow shouted, grabbing Cordelia's hand.

Pandemonium erupted as people rushed for the exits, screaming. Buffy and Giles fought their way through the fleeing crowd, the chaos confirming Buffy's hunch.

"Looks like your hunch was right," Giles shouted over the noise.

"How could a werewolf resist Sunnydale's own House o' Hormones?" Buffy quipped, determined.

As they made their way through the crowd, they ran into Willow and Cordelia, both frantic and breathless.

"The werewolf!" Willow gasped. "It's in there!"

Cordelia turned to the doorman, half-crazed. "You could be a little more discriminating with that velvet rope!"

Buffy quickly pulled a long chain from Giles' bag, tossing the bag back to him as she moved toward the backstage area. The lights dimmed in the shadowed corridors behind the stage, making every creak and distant footfall sound ominous. Buffy moved quietly, the chain held at the ready, her eyes sharp.

A shadow shifted at the edge of her vision. She turned, and before she could react, the werewolf lunged from the darkness, claws swiping. Buffy fought it off, managing to land a punch to its face. The creature stumbled back, momentarily startled. Taking advantage of the pause, Buffy swung the chain, looping it around the werewolf's neck. She held on tightly, her grip fierce as the werewolf thrashed.

But the creature's strength was overpowering. It yanked away, sending Buffy flying across the room. She hit the ground hard as the werewolf freed itself, growling. With a powerful leap, it sprang toward the window, crashing through the glass and disappearing into the night with a howl.

A little later, Cain stood inside the Bronze with Buffy and Giles, looking unfazed by the chaotic aftermath.

"You let it get away," he sneered.

Buffy crossed her arms, her frustration simmering. "I didn't *let* it do anything. I had the chain around its neck—"

"Chain?" Cain cut her off with a laugh. "What were you going to do, take it for a walk?"

"I was trying to lock it up," she retorted, her voice edged with irritation.

Cain shook his head in mock disbelief. "This is what happens when a woman tries to do a man's job."

Giles stepped forward, his expression indignant. "Mr. Cain, this girl put her life at risk to capture a beast which you haven't even been able to find."

Cain smirked, undeterred. "Uh-huh. And daddy's doing a great job carrying her bag of Milk Bones." He leaned closer to Buffy, his gaze mocking. "You know, sis, if that thing out there harms anyone? It's going to be on your pretty little head."

Buffy's face remained stoic, her jaw tight.

Cain shook his head in mock pity. "I hope you can live with that."

With a smug chuckle, he turned on his heel, heading for the door. "First they tell me I can't shoot an elephant for its ivory," he muttered as he walked away. "Now I've got to deal with People for the Ethical Treatment of Werewolves."

He disappeared into the night, leaving a tense silence behind him. Buffy stood there for a moment, her gaze distant.

Giles quietly zipped up the bag of supplies, looking at her. "Let's move out."

Sunnydale High - The Library

Sunlight streamed into the library as Oz entered, catching sight of Buffy pacing in agitation. She stood by Giles, Xander, Brenwyn, and Willow, her frustration radiating through the room.

"I can't believe I let that thing get away," Buffy fumed. "Cain was right. I should have killed it when I had the chance!"

Oz stopped, sensing the tension as they turned to him. He made his way over to Willow, his expression curious but calm.

"Killed what?" he asked quietly.

Giles folded his arms. "The werewolf. It was out last night."

Oz's face grew serious. "Is everyone okay? Was anyone scratched? Or bitten?"

Willow gave him a reassuring smile. "No, we're fine."

A flicker of relief crossed Oz's face. "Gladness."

Buffy, however, looked away, her tone bitter. "But the werewolf got someone. Theresa."

Oz's voice softened. "'Got' as in…" He trailed off, leaning back against the wall as the news sank in. "Wow. I'm sorry."

Buffy's face tightened. "And the worst part is, I could have stopped it."

Giles stepped forward. "Well, we still have one more night."

Oz glanced up, surprised. "Another night?"

"Oh, yeah," Buffy said, her determination sharpening. "And I'm planning on giving little wolfie something to howl about."

Xander, hands in his pockets, cut in. "But while we hang out here doing nothing, there's a human werewolf walking around out there, probably making fun of us."

Brenwyn rolled her eyes. "The way werewolves always do."

Oz looked over, thoughtful. "But there's really no way to tell who it is. Right?"

Xander grinned, undeterred. "Sure there is. Giles knows stuff. And I'm practically an expert on this subject."

Willow smirked. "On account of how you were once a hyena."

Oz looked at Xander, brow furrowed. "Xander was…?"

Willow nodded. "Before we knew you."

Xander squared his shoulders, his tone exaggeratedly serious. "I know what it's like to crave the taste of freshly killed meat. To be taken over by these uncontrollable urges."

Buffy raised an eyebrow, unconvinced. "You said you didn't remember anything about that."

Xander paused, caught, then quickly backpedaled. "Oh, right. I said I didn't remember anything about that." He waved his hand dismissively. "Look, the point is, I have an affinity with this thing. I can get inside its head." He began acting out his impression. "Okay, I'm a big, bad wolf. I'm on the prowl. I'm a sniffing, snarling, slobbering predator. I'm…"

He stopped, catching sight of Oz staring at him. A light seemed to go on in Xander's eyes. "Wait a second. It's right in front of us. It's obvious who I am!"

Oz tensed, his expression guarded.

Xander snapped his fingers. "I'm Larry."

Oz visibly relaxed as Xander continued, "He's practically got 'wolf-boy' stamped on his forehead. You've got the dog bite, the aggression. Not to mention the excessive back hair."

Buffy nodded thoughtfully. "You know, he was a little overly gleeful at the thought of tormenting Theresa."

Oz, though still uneasy, tried to reason. "Still, that doesn't necessarily mean—"

But Xander was already heading out. "I'm going to go talk to him. Force a confession out of him."

Giles nodded. "Good. Go." He turned to Willow. "In the meantime, let's cover our bases. Willow, check the student files. See if anyone else fits the profile."

As Giles headed for his office, Buffy followed. "Where are we going?" she asked.

"If none of that works," Giles replied, "I think I've struck upon a way to finally lay this problem to rest."

Buffy's face lit up with fierce anticipation. "Me and the werewolf, three minutes, alone in a cage. That's all I ask."

Buffy disappeared into Giles' office as Xander and Brenwyn left the library. Left alone with Willow, Oz seemed distracted, staring off into the distance. Willow noticed his far-off look.

"Are you okay?" she asked gently.

Oz blinked, as though coming out of a trance. "What?"

"You kind of knew Theresa," Willow said, her voice soft with sympathy.

Oz's gaze dropped, his face troubled. "Yeah. I'm trying not to think about it. It's… a lot."

Willow nodded. "It is. But we can do stuff to help. Sometimes it feels good to help."

"Uh-huh," Oz murmured absently.

"Like, looking up names? I'll be doing that most of the night," Willow offered, her tone hopeful. "You could help me—"

But Oz cut her off, his voice quiet yet firm. "I can't. I'm… busy."

Willow blinked, taken aback. "Oh. So…"

"I, uh, I need to go," he muttered, avoiding her gaze.

Without another word, he walked out of the library, leaving Willow standing alone, confusion and hurt flickering across her face as she watched him disappear into the hallway.

Sunnydale High - The Hallway

As Xander and Brenwyn made their way down the quiet hallway, Xander's bravado from the library faded, replaced by a nervous energy. He glanced over at Brenwyn, catching her amused expression.

"So, you really think Larry's our resident werewolf?" Brenwyn asked.

Xander shrugged, a grin tugging at his lips. "The guy's practically a walking wolf stereotype, right? Aggressive, prone to random acts of jerky behavior. I mean, it's either him or…" He trailed off, momentarily considering his options. "Well, it's probably him."

Brenwyn chuckled softly. "I don't know. Feels a little convenient, doesn't it? Big guy with a big ego—who wouldn't think 'werewolf' right off the bat?"

Xander nodded, considering her point. "True. But convenience is pretty underrated when it comes to supernatural creatures in Sunnydale." After a moment of silence, he added, "So, how are you handling all this? You know, the whole 'hunting werewolves by night, normal teenager by day' thing?"

Brenwyn smirked, giving him a playful nudge with her shoulder. "Funny, I don't remember signing up for a midnight shift on the 'hunt-the-hairy-monster' team. But here I am."

Xander laughed, rubbing the back of his neck. "Yeah, it's a package deal. Comes with free cryptic Watcher advice and a whole lot of late-night research."

"Honestly?" Brenwyn said, her tone softening. "It's strange, but it's… kind of exhilarating, too. I mean, one minute you're stressing about finals, and the next, you're part of this secret world. There's something… empowering about it."

Xander's eyes softened as he looked at her. "Yeah. I guess I never thought about it like that." He paused, a hint of mischief in his voice. "You know, you're way too level-headed for someone who just watched Buffy rant on about killing a man-eating werewolf."

Brenwyn gave him a teasing look. "And you're surprisingly calm for someone on his way to confront an alleged werewolf, 'Mr. Big Bad Wolf' himself."

Xander shrugged, feigning indifference. "Hey, someone's gotta keep these things interesting. Besides, I can handle Larry."

"Just be careful, alright?" Brenwyn said, her tone turning serious. "I know you like a good confrontation, but if it turns out he really is a werewolf…"

Xander tried to keep his grin steady, though there was a flicker of unease in his eyes. "Hey, don't worry. I'll leave the actual fighting to Buffy. I'm just here to… you know, apply a little pressure."

Brenwyn's smile softened, and she reached out, giving his arm a gentle squeeze. "Well, if you need backup, I'm not far."

He glanced down at her hand on his arm, his expression momentarily surprised but pleased. "I'll keep that in mind," he said softly.

They stood there for a moment, the charged silence lingering between them, until Brenwyn cleared her throat, taking a step back. "Alright, wolf whisperer. Go get your confession."

Xander chuckled, giving her a mock salute. "Roger that. I'll let you know if things get… hairy."

Sunnydale High - The Locker Room

The locker room was empty, its silence broken only by the faint drip of water from a distant faucet. The dim lighting cast eerie shadows across the tiled walls, amplifying the unsettling stillness. Larry finished washing up, turning off the faucet with a quick twist before grabbing a towel. He wiped his face as he moved deeper into the rows of lockers.

Rounding a corner, Larry pulled the towel away from his face—and stopped short, startled to see Xander standing there, waiting.

"Harris," Larry muttered, his irritation evident. "Geez, next time wear a bell."

Xander crossed his arms, leaning casually against a locker. "Why so jumpy, Larry?"

Larry scoffed, tossing the towel over his shoulder. "Geeks make me nervous."

"Is that really it?" Xander asked, his voice low and pointed. "Or is there something you're hiding?"

Larry's eyes narrowed, his demeanor hardening. "I could hide my fist in your face."

Ignoring the threat, Xander watched as Larry opened his locker, revealing its interior plastered with pin-ups of bikini-clad women. Larry grabbed a book from inside, but before he could close the door, Xander reached out and slammed it shut.

"I know your secret, big guy," Xander said, his voice sharp. "I know what you've been doing at night."

Larry didn't flinch. His calm was almost unnerving. "You know, Harris, that nosey-nose of yours is going to get you into trouble someday." He stepped closer, his tone dropping to a dangerous edge. "Like today."

Before Xander could react, Larry grabbed him by the collar, slamming him against a locker. The metal clanged loudly, echoing through the empty room.

"Hurting me won't make this go away," Xander said, his voice steady despite the pressure. "People are still going to find out."

Larry's grip faltered slightly. "All right," he growled, his tone full of suspicion. "What do you want? Hush money? Is that what you're after?"

Xander shook his head. "I don't want anything. I just want to help."

Larry released him abruptly, stepping back, his skepticism written all over his face. "You want to help? What, you think you've got a cure?"

"No," Xander admitted, his tone softening. "It's just… I know what you're going through. Because I've been there. And that's why I know you should talk about it."

Larry blinked, thrown off by the unexpected empathy. "Sure," he said with a bitter laugh. "That's easy for you to say. You're nobody. But I've got a reputation."

"Larry, please," Xander urged. "Before someone else gets hurt."

Larry hesitated, his gaze darting away as if searching for an escape. When he spoke again, his voice was raw, barely above a whisper. "If this gets out, it's over for me. Forget about playing football; they'll run me out of town." He paused, as though steeling himself. "I mean, come on. How do you think people are going to look at me once they find out I'm gay?"

Xander froze, caught completely off guard. The weight of Larry's words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now.

Larry's voice grew steadier, more confident, as if speaking the truth was giving him strength. "Wow. I said it. And it felt… okay." A smile tugged at the corners of his mouth as he straightened. "I'm gay. I am gay."

Xander forced a smile, though it was tinged with awkwardness. "Heard you the first time."

Larry chuckled, the tension in his shoulders easing. "I can't believe it. I mean, that was almost easy. I… I never felt like I could tell anyone. And then you, of all people, bring it out of me."

Xander tried to shrug off the praise. "It probably would've just slipped out even if I wasn't here."

"No," Larry said firmly. "Because knowing you went through the same thing made it easier for me to admit it."

Xander blinked, startled. "The same thing?"

Larry nodded earnestly, completely missing the confusion on Xander's face. But before either could clarify, the distant sound of a bell echoed down the hall, signaling the next class. Larry gave Xander a small, grateful nod before turning and walking away, leaving Xander standing there, still piecing it all together.

Sunnydale High - The Library

The library was quiet, save for the soft clicking of Willow's fingers on the computer keyboard. She sat at the desk, her face illuminated by the glow of the screen, scrolling through files with focused intent. Buffy strolled over, her footsteps light but purposeful.

"So," Buffy began, leaning against the table, "what's the scuttlebutt? Anybody besides Larry fit the werewolf profile?"

Willow frowned slightly, scanning the screen. "There is one name that keeps popping up. Aggressive behavior, run-ins with the authorities, about a handful of violent incidents…"

Her fingers moved swiftly across the keyboard. With a final tap of the Enter key, a new screen loaded. Buffy leaned in to look and immediately reacted with a mix of indignation and amusement.

"Okay, most of those weren't my fault," she protested, crossing her arms. "The other guy started it. I was just standing up for myself."

Willow tilted her head, raising an eyebrow. "They say it's a good idea to count to ten when you're angry…"

Buffy narrowed her eyes at her friend. "One, two, three…"

Willow grinned, raising her hands in mock surrender. "I'll keep looking."

Buffy glanced at the desk and then back to Willow. "I noticed you're working solo."

Willow's expression faltered, her fingers hovering over the keyboard. "Yeah. Oz wanted to be somewhere… that was away. From me."

Buffy softened, pulling out the chair next to her and sitting down. "I'm sorry."

Willow sighed, leaning back slightly. "I can't figure him out. He's so hot and cold. Or, lukewarm and cold."

Buffy gave her a knowing smile. "Welcome to the mystery that is men. I think what happens is they grow body hair, and they lose the ability to talk about what they really want."

Willow wrinkled her nose. "That doesn't sound like a good trade."

Before Buffy could respond, the school bell rang, echoing through the halls. The two of them began gathering their things.

"Seems to me you and Oz have some kind of synapse problem," Buffy said as they walked toward the door. "So, if you want to get anywhere with him, you've got to make the first move."

Willow hesitated, glancing at her friend. "That doesn't make me a tramp?"

Buffy gave her a reassuring look. "I think your reputation'll remain intact."

They pushed through the library doors and stepped into the bustling hallway. Students rushed to their next classes, the air buzzing with chatter.

"It used to be so much easier to tell if a boy liked you," Willow mused. "He'd punch you on the arm, then run back to his friends."

Buffy chuckled, the memory of simpler times bringing a faint smile to her lips. "Yeah, those were the days."

They continued down the hall, their laughter mingling with the sounds of the busy school around them.

Sunnydale High - The Science Lab

The fluorescent lights in the Sunnydale High science lab buzzed faintly, casting an antiseptic glow over the long rows of lab tables. Brenwyn sat by the window, the sunlight streaming in and highlighting the faint freckles across her nose. Her books were neatly arranged, her notebook open to a fresh page, the edges of her pencil worn down from nervous tapping. She looked up as Xander walked in, his sneakers squeaking faintly on the polished floor, his shoulders slumped like someone carrying an invisible weight.

He dropped into the chair next to her with a heavy sigh. "He's not the werewolf."

Brenwyn tilted her head, her auburn braid slipping over her shoulder. Her blue eyes, sharp and steady, flicked to his face, reading him like one of her history texts. "How do you know? What did he say?"

Xander hesitated, his mouth opening and closing like a fish out of water. A faint flush crept up his neck, and he rubbed the back of his head. "It's, uh… kind of personal. I can't tell you. But trust me—he's definitely not the werewolf."

Brenwyn held his gaze for a beat longer, her expression thoughtful. Then she nodded, leaning back in her chair. "Okay. Well, there goes our lead suspect."

The teacher's voice cut through the room, calling everyone to attention. Brenwyn turned back to her notebook, her lips pursed. The faint scratch of pencils and the occasional scrape of glass echoed as the students settled into quiet work.

When they were released to begin their experiment, the hum of conversation filled the air, mingling with the clinking of beakers and the hiss of Bunsen burners being lit. Brenwyn adjusted her goggles and glanced sideways at Xander, her voice low.

"You know, none of the reports said anything about Theresa being mauled. But it was linked to the animal attacks from the other night, so we just assumed werewolf."

Xander leaned closer, his elbows resting on the table. "What else should we have assumed?"

Brenwyn paused, her hand stilling over a test tube, her eyes flickering with something darker than her usual curiosity. She turned to him, her voice quiet but weighted, like a hammer wrapped in velvet. "Who do we know who has recently transformed into a soulless, women-killing monster?"

The words hung in the air for a moment, sharp as broken glass. Xander's face tightened, his knuckles whitening as he gripped the edge of the table. His voice, when it came, was grim and raw.

"Angel."

The name lingered between them, a shadow too large to ignore, settling over the bright, sterile lab like a storm cloud threatening to burst.

Sunnydale - "Makeout Park"

The van sat parked in a shadowy clearing at Makeout Park, its dented exterior blending into the eerie stillness of the woods. Inside, Cain moved with a practiced precision, his grizzled features illuminated by the dim light of a hanging bulb. The cramped space was a chaotic shrine to his trade, packed with rifles, bows, arrows, nets, and traps that jostled with each bump of the vehicle.

Cain hummed tunelessly along with the crackling music from an old tape player, the sound barely audible over the metallic clink of his tools. On the counter before him, a small mold rested, glowing faintly from the liquid silver he had just poured into it. The acrid scent of molten metal filled the air as he carefully placed the mold on a cooling rack.

Turning to another mold, Cain popped it open to reveal a gleaming silver bullet, still warm from the forge. He rolled it between his fingers with a faint smile before adding it to a neat line of identical bullets on the counter. The bullets caught the light like tiny, deadly moons, each one meticulously crafted for the hunt.

Reaching to the side, Cain opened a small, battered refrigerator and pulled out a thick slab of raw meat. The refrigerator door squealed in protest before snapping shut. Cain dropped the meat onto the counter with a wet thud. The smell of blood mingled with the metallic tang in the air as he unsheathed a hunting knife, the blade flashing in the dim light.

With practiced ease, he sliced off several rough chunks, the knife gliding through the meat. He worked methodically, his movements unhurried but purposeful. Each piece landed with a dull plop into his weathered backpack, the fabric darkened from years of use.

Satisfied, Cain wiped the blade on a rag and slid it back into its sheath. He cast a glance at the silver bullets lined up in neat precision, then at the hunks of meat nestled in his pack. A faint, self-satisfied smirk tugged at his lips. Everything was ready. The hunt awaited.

Sunnydale - Oz's Residence

The night at Oz's house was thick with an eerie stillness, the kind that seemed to amplify every creak and rustle. Inside, under the dim glow of a single lamp, Oz carefully pulled shackles and chains out of a worn box. The metallic clink of the chains echoed softly in the quiet room. He set the heavy links on the table, closing a metal shackle around his wrist with a determined click. Reaching for a padlock, he froze at the sudden sound of a knock at the door.

His head snapped up, and he stared toward the source of the noise. The knock came again, more insistent this time. Oz sighed, leaving the shackles on the table as he walked to the door. He opened it a crack, peering out cautiously.

"Willow, what are you doing—?" he started, but before he could finish, Willow barged in, her face a storm of emotion.

"Okay," she began, her words tumbling out in a rush, "I had this whole thing worked out, and I wrote it down, but then it didn't make any sense when I read it back."

Oz frowned, his posture stiff. "This really isn't a good time."

But Willow plowed ahead, undeterred. "I mean, what am I supposed to think? First, you buy me popcorn. Then you put the tag in my shirt. Then you're all glad I didn't get bit. But I guess none of that means anything because, instead of looking up names with me, here you are, all alone in your house doing nothing by yourself!"

"Willow," Oz said firmly, his voice low and urgent, "we will talk about this tomorrow. I promise."

"No, darn it!" Willow snapped, her voice rising. "We will talk about this now! Buffy told me that sometimes the girl has to make the first move, and now that I'm saying this, I'm starting to think that the written version sounded pretty good, but you know what I mean!"

Oz stepped forward, his hands gentle as he tried to guide her back toward the door. "I know. It's me. I'm going through some… changes."

But Willow broke his grasp, her frustration fueling her movements as she stepped deeper into the house. "Well, welcome to the world! Things happen! You don't think I'm going through a lot?"

"Not like I am…" Oz muttered, his voice strained.

"Oh, so now you're special!" Willow shot back. "You're special boy—" She stopped abruptly, her gaze falling on the chains and shackles strewn across the table. "—with chains and stuff," she finished, confusion breaking through her anger. "Why do you have chains and stuff?"

Oz's expression darkened. "Willow, please," he said, his voice trembling. Then, suddenly, he doubled over in pain, shouting, "Get out!"

"Oz?" Willow's tone shifted to alarm as she stepped toward him. "Oz, what is it? What's wrong?"

When Oz looked back up, his face was no longer his own. His eyes glowed, his teeth bared, his features twisted into the snarl of a werewolf. A guttural growl ripped from his throat as he lunged toward her.

Willow froze, her scream catching in her throat before bursting out. She turned and bolted for the door, but the werewolf leapt, landing between her and her escape. Panicked, she darted toward another room, her breath ragged as she scrambled over a couch. The werewolf swiped at her legs, its claws tearing through the cushions in a spray of foam. Willow hit the ground, rolling away just in time.

She scrambled to her feet and ran, but the werewolf was faster, grabbing her from behind. Thinking quickly, Willow bent forward, flipping the beast over her shoulder. It hit the ground hard, a stunned silence filling the room.

Willow blinked, her chest heaving. "Wow," she muttered, her voice a mix of awe and disbelief. "It worked."

But her relief was short-lived. The werewolf leapt back up, snapping at her with renewed ferocity. Willow screamed and ran, shoving a coat rack and chairs into its path as she fled the house.

Out in the cool night air, Willow sprinted through the neighborhood, her pulse pounding in her ears. The werewolf's heavy footfalls closed in behind her. She darted across a lawn, vaulted over a bench, and reached a backyard fence. Turning to see the beast closing the gap, she grabbed the top of the fence and heaved herself over.

On the other side, she landed awkwardly but kept moving. The werewolf reached the fence, its claws hooking over the top as it began to climb. Without thinking, Willow grabbed a trash can and hurled it at the beast, knocking it back to the other side. Her chest heaving, she stumbled forward, running with every ounce of strength she had left.

Her foot caught on uneven ground, and she fell hard, the breath knocked from her lungs. Turning onto her back, she saw the werewolf looming, its glowing eyes locked on her. It advanced, each step deliberate, until it was practically on top of her.

Suddenly, the werewolf stopped. Its head lifted, nostrils flaring as it caught a scent. With a final growl, it turned and sprinted toward the woods, disappearing into the darkness.

Willow lay there, trembling, her breaths coming in shallow gasps. When the silence returned, she scrambled to her feet and fled, her steps uneven but driven by sheer will to survive.

Sunnydale High - The Library

The library was cloaked in its usual hushed stillness, lit only by the warm glow of a desk lamp. Giles stood at the main table, his expression focused as he placed a steel case down with a thud. He unsnapped the latches, revealing an unassembled high-tech rifle nestled in its padded compartments. Methodically, he picked up a couple of parts and began piecing them together, his movements precise and deliberate.

The doors swung open, and Buffy strode in, her face set with grim determination. "Sorry I'm late," she said, brushing a stray lock of hair out of her face. "Had to do some unscheduled slaying in the form of Theresa."

Giles looked up sharply, concern etched into his features. "She's a vampire?"

"Was," Buffy replied flatly. "Angel sent her to me. A little token of his affection."

Setting the rifle parts aside, Giles moved toward her, his eyes filled with sympathy. "Buffy, I'm sorry—"

Buffy cut him off with a raised hand, her voice tight. "Not now, Giles. We'll all have ourselves a good cry after we've bagged us a werewolf."

Giles hesitated but gave her a small nod before returning to the rifle. He screwed the scope into place, finishing the assembly with a firm twist. Holding it up, he inspected the weapon, and then placed it on the table with a satisfied nod.

"All set," he said. "Let's go find this thing."

Buffy followed him toward the door but paused, frowning. "One question: how exactly do we find this thing?"

Before Giles could answer, the library doors burst open with a loud bang. Willow stumbled in, breathless and wide-eyed.

"It's Oz!" she cried, her voice high with panic. "It's Oz!"

Buffy's brow furrowed. "What's Oz?"

Willow's words came in a rush. "The werewolf!"

Giles froze, his face a mix of skepticism and concern. "Are you certain?"

Willow glared at him, her voice trembling. "Can't you just trust me on this?! He… he said he was going through all these changes, and then he went through all these… changes."

Buffy's expression darkened as the pieces clicked into place. "Where is he now?"

"In the woods," Willow said, her voice cracking slightly.

Buffy stepped closer, her tone softening. "Willow, it'll be okay. We're going to take care of everything."

Giles brought the rifle into view, giving it a deliberate pump. The sound was sharp and final, cutting through the tension.

Willow's face fell, and she stepped back, her voice rising. "Go where? You're not going to kill Oz?! I mean, sure, he's a werewolf. But I bet he doesn't mean to be!"

Buffy placed a hand on Willow's shoulder, her voice steady. "Don't worry. We won't hurt him."

Giles held up a small dart, its metallic tip glinting under the light. "I loaded this with enough phenobarbital to put down a small elephant," he explained. "It should be enough for a large werewolf."

Willow's shoulders relaxed slightly, though her expression remained troubled as they moved toward the doors. Giles handed the rifle to Buffy, and the three of them stepped into the night, the weight of their task hanging heavy in the air.

Sunnydale - Woods of "Makeout Park"

The woods of Makeout Park were bathed in silvery moonlight, the trees casting long, skeletal shadows over the ground. A werewolf moved silently through the underbrush, its snout raised to the air as it followed a scent trail. It came to a clearing where, glinting faintly in the moonlight, lay a pile of raw meat. The werewolf stopped, its glowing eyes narrowing. Then, with a guttural howl, it stepped forward.

From behind a tree several yards away, Cain emerged, his rifle raised. He peered through the scope, a predatory grin spreading across his face.

"That's it," he muttered to himself. "Let me see you…"

The werewolf sniffed the meat cautiously before tearing into it, its powerful jaws ripping the flesh apart. Cain steadied his rifle, muttering, "Good doggie… Now play dead."

He pulled the trigger just as Buffy tackled him from the side. The shot went wide, shattering the stillness of the night with a sharp crack. The werewolf looked up from its meal, its head snapping toward the commotion. Buffy and Cain struggled for control of the rifle, their grunts and the scrape of boots on dirt echoing in the clearing.

The werewolf abandoned the meat and charged toward the two combatants. Buffy finally wrenched the rifle from Cain's hands and drove the butt of it into his gut, sending him sprawling. Before she could recover, the werewolf leapt onto her, its claws scrabbling for purchase as it snarled. Buffy gritted her teeth and swung the rifle like a club, fending off the snapping jaws.

Across the clearing, Willow stood with Giles, who raised his tranquilizer gun, his expression grim as he tried to get a clear shot at the werewolf without hitting Buffy.

"Careful!" Willow urged, her voice shaking.

Giles had a shot, but Buffy was suddenly spun into his line of sight. "Damn…" he muttered, lowering the gun.

Buffy and the werewolf tumbled to the ground, their fight a blur of movement. Buffy managed to pin it briefly, but the creature thrust its powerful legs out, sending her flying through the air. She crashed into Willow and Giles, knocking them into a heap on the forest floor. Giles' tranquilizer gun slipped from his grasp, landing just out of reach.

The werewolf rose to its feet, its glowing eyes locking onto Willow. For a moment, the world seemed to freeze. Then it lunged.

Terror coursing through her, Willow scrambled for the tranquilizer gun. Her fingers found it, and she raised it with trembling hands, squeezing her eyes shut. She pulled the trigger.

The dart hissed through the air, striking the werewolf squarely in the chest. The creature reared back, snarling in pain before collapsing mere inches from Willow's outstretched legs. She remained frozen, the gun still raised, her breath coming in shallow gasps.

"I… I shot Oz…" she murmured, her voice filled with disbelief.

Giles placed a hand on her shoulder, his tone gentle. "You saved us."

He carefully took the gun from her and helped her to her feet. Before they could fully collect themselves, Cain approached, his expression twisted in disgust.

"No wonder this town is overrun with monsters," Cain sneered. "No one here's man enough to kill 'em."

Buffy stood nearby, Cain's rifle in her hands. She turned, her eyes blazing as she faced him. "I wouldn't be so sure about that," she said coolly.

For a moment, Cain's smugness faltered as Buffy slowly bent the rifle barrel with both hands, her strength undeniable. The metal groaned under the pressure until the weapon was rendered useless. She tossed it at his feet.

"You know, Mr. Cain," she said, her voice dripping with contempt, "I've been sick of you since the moment before I met you. And I've been waiting for just the right opportunity to take you on. But then I realized—a big, strong man versus a girl like me?" She smirked. "Wouldn't be a fair fight."

She stepped back, crossing her arms. "How about you let the door hit you on the way out of town?"

Cain glared at her, his mouth twitching as though he wanted to argue. But he thought better of it. With a shake of his head, he turned and walked away, disappearing into the shadows of the woods.

Buffy's focus shifted to Willow, who had knelt beside the werewolf. "Willow?" she asked gently.

Willow glanced up at Giles, her voice small. "Is he going to be all right?"

Giles adjusted his glasses, crouching beside her. "He'll be a little sore in the morning, but he'll be Oz."

Willow managed a shaky smile, her relief tinged with uncertainty as she rested a hand gently on the werewolf's side.

Sunnydale High - The Hallway

The bustling hallway of Sunnydale High hummed with chatter and the clatter of lockers, a chaotic symphony of teenage life. Brenwyn and Xander navigated the crowd with practiced ease, their conversation already in full swing.

"So," Xander said, his voice laced with mock disbelief. "We've officially got a werewolf in the group. Did not see that one coming."

Brenwyn tilted her head, a faint smirk tugging at her lips. "Really? In Sunnydale? The Hellmouth capital of the world? I'm shocked."

Xander laughed, shaking his head. "Point taken. I guess next you'll tell me a vampire is running for class president."

Brenwyn raised an eyebrow, her smirk widening. "If there were, I'd vote for them over Larry."

"Fair enough," Xander replied, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth. "Although, can you imagine the campaign slogan? 'Vote Vampire: Bringing Eternal Leadership to Sunnydale High.'"

Brenwyn chuckled. "I'm sure it'd resonate with the night school crowd."

Xander feigned a shiver. "Okay, creepy vampire jokes aside, how are you feeling about all this? I mean, Oz - mild-mannered, guitar-playing Oz - is a literal werewolf. It's wild. Or, you know, wildlife."

Brenwyn rolled her eyes at the pun, but her tone softened. "Honestly, I'm more worried about Willow. This has to be a lot for her to process. Finding out the guy you like turns into a furry killing machine three nights a month? Not exactly your average relationship hiccup."

"Yeah," Xander agreed, his voice losing some of its levity. "But if anyone can handle it, it's Willow. She's tough. I mean, she's like... deceptively tough. Like a marshmallow with a steel core."

"Marshmallow?" Brenwyn teased, nudging him with her shoulder. "That's what you're going with?"

"Hey, marshmallows are underrated," Xander shot back with mock indignation. "Soft on the outside, fireproof on the inside. Perfect metaphor."

Brenwyn smiled, shaking her head. "You're a strange one, Harris."

"And yet, you keep walking next to me," he quipped, spreading his arms dramatically.

"I guess I'm just a glutton for punishment," she said, her tone light but fond.

They turned a corner, the crowd thinning as they reached a quieter stretch of hallway. Xander glanced sideways at her, his grin fading slightly. "But seriously, do you think Oz is gonna be okay? I mean, Giles has his whole tranquilizer-and-chains plan, but it's not like we've dealt with a lot of werewolves before."

Brenwyn's expression grew thoughtful, her blue eyes focused ahead. "I think he'll be okay. He's got Willow, and he's got us. And for what it's worth, he doesn't seem like the type to let this define him. Oz is… steady, you know?"

Xander nodded slowly. "Yeah. Steady. Like a rock. A rock that occasionally sprouts claws and howls at the moon."

Brenwyn laughed, shaking her head. "Exactly."

They reached the library doors, and Xander paused, his hand resting on the handle. "Here's hoping steady is enough. Because if it's not…" He trailed off, his playful demeanor slipping just for a moment.

Brenwyn placed a reassuring hand on his arm. "It will be. We'll figure it out. Together."

Xander looked at her, his grin returning, albeit softer this time. "You really are the optimist of the group, aren't you?"

She shrugged, her smirk returning. "Someone's got to balance out your endless cynicism."

With that, they stepped into the library, their conversation fading as the door swung closed behind them.

Sunnydale High - Outside

Outside, the sunlight warmed the campus courtyard. Oz sat alone on a bench, his expression distant as he stared out over the empty lawn. The sound of footsteps drew his attention, and he looked up to see Willow approaching. She stopped in front of him, her hands nervously fidgeting.

"Hey," she said softly.

"Hey," Oz replied, his tone equally subdued.

An awkward silence hung between them before Willow broke it. "Did you want to go first?"

Oz stood, sliding his hands into his pockets as they began walking together. "I spoke to Giles," he said. "He said I'll be okay. I just have to lock myself up around the full moon. Only, you know, he used more words than that. And a globe."

Willow smiled faintly at the thought. "I'm sorry about how all this ended up," she said, her voice filled with genuine regret. "With me shooting you, and all."

"That's okay," Oz replied, his expression calm. "I'm sorry I almost ate you."

"That's okay," Willow said, her lips quirking upward.

They walked on in companionable silence for a moment, the tension easing slightly. Then Willow glanced over at him, her brow furrowing. "I kind of expected you would have told me."

Oz hesitated, looking down at the path ahead of them. "I didn't know what to say. It's not every day you find out you're a werewolf. That's fairly freaksome. Might take a couple days getting used to."

"Yeah," Willow agreed, her voice thoughtful. "It's a complication."

Oz nodded, his expression serious. "So I guess maybe it'd be best if I just sort of…"

"What?" Willow prompted, stopping to look at him.

"You know," Oz said, gesturing vaguely, "stayed out of your way for a while."

Willow smiled, shaking her head. "I don't know. I'm kind of okay with you being in my way."

He stopped, processing her words. "You mean… you'd still…"

"Well," Willow said, her tone turning playful, "I like you. You're nice, and you're funny, and you don't smoke. And, okay, werewolf—but that's not all the time. I mean, three days out of the month I'm not much fun to be around, either."

A grin spread across Oz's face as he looked at her, his usual calm giving way to something warmer. "You are quite the human," he said.

Willow blushed but held his gaze. "So I'd still, if you'd still."

"I'd still," Oz said, his voice soft but sure. "I'd very still."

"Okay," Willow said simply, stepping in front of him. She raised a finger, her expression mock-serious. "No biting, though."

Oz nodded solemnly. "Agreed."

Satisfied, Willow started to walk away, leaving him standing there. But after a few steps, she stopped, turned back, and leaned in, kissing him gently. The kiss was brief, but it left both of them breathless. Without a word, she walked away, her steps light and sure.

Oz watched her go, stunned but smiling. "A werewolf in love," he murmured to himself, the words tinged with awe.