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Author's Chapter Notes:
This story has already been a long time in the making. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I have enjoyed writing it.
Oh-and I don't own any of the characters that sprung from the genius of Joss Whedon, I just like to make them do dirty things.
Buffy lay in her bed, flat on her stomach, with her face buried in one pillow, and the other one wrapped around her head with her arms gripping it tightly against her ears in a vain effort to block out the smell and sounds that were so viciously assaulting her. She whimpered softly and tried to convince herself that she couldn't really hear all five of the distinct heartbeats downstairs or smell the six different scents over the scent of herself and fabric softener that her pillow was full of.

She tried vainly to believe that it was all some really mean prank meant to be reminiscent of the time she had borrowed the telepathic abilities of a demon she had killed. Her senses had always been somewhat better than those of her completely, normally human watcher and friends, and they'd also been extremely inferior to those of Angel, and so probably also all the other vampires that she frequently had to deal with.

But now her senses were so strong that she would be willing to bet that they were superior to Angel's. Like she was pretty sure he had no idea that Oz had just started his van up outside the Bronze, a good two miles away, after telling his band mates that he was heading this way to look for the love of his life, Willow.

She'd also be willing to bet that he couldn't hear that strange flush in the steady rhythm of her mom's blood pulsing through her veins. A sound that wasn't there in anyone else's and therefore troubled Buffy a great deal. She heard every word they were uttering downstairs, every breath they took, and every sob that gasped out of Willow in fear for her friend who seemed to be going insane at the top of the stairs.

As if that wasn't enough she could smell them clearly too. Willow's fear, Xander's sweat and his girlfriends arousal. Her mom's concern and her Watcher's curiosity. Not to mention the infuriating smell of her somewhat, kind of a boyfriend. Each emotion seemed to have a different smell, possibly due to the different chemical reactions of different emotions. She wasn't sure where the knowledge came from, but she was certain of the emotions she was relating to each smell and she was upset that the supposed love of her life had scents rolling off of him that spoke of doubt and bemusement mixed with exasperation.

As if she were some little child telling an outrageous story to garner the attention of the long suffering adults who had to put up with all of her antics. As if she was a silly little girl that he was going along with for the sake of peace.

"I'm telling you, Giles," he was saying right now keeping his voice pitched low as if she wouldn't hear him that way. "There is no demon that passes on strengthened senses the way she describes it. I think she's imagining everything. She probably needs a break or something."

That was it!

She was getting really tired of his condescending, patronizing attitude lately, and he had just settled the last straw on the lamented camel's back. "If that's the way you really feel, Angel" she was rather proud of the way his name sounded more like a snarl than a word, even if it would probably horrify her later on that she could talk to the man/vamp she was sure she loved that way. "Why don't you come up here and we'll do a little test to see who's imagining things? But first ask Mom to let Oz in. And while you're at it, tell Oz that it smells like he has a small oil leak in the van that he might want to take care of before it becomes something big and expensive."

There was no sound from Angel even though she knew damn well that she had spoken loud enough for the broody vampire to hear, if not anyone else. It was at least a good ten seconds after she issued her challenge before she heard him grunt and smelled the surprise coming off of him. He must have just finally caught the distinctive sound of Oz's van still two blocks away.

That was quickly followed by the smell of curiosity and the sound of him running up the stairs, taking them three at time by the sound of it, and bursting into her room."How did you know Oz was on his way?" he demanded just as she noticed the faint scent of the doubt that he was still clinging to.

"Because I heard him tell his friends that he was coming over here before he left The Bronze." she mumbled into her lovely pillow. Her amazing, wonderful, sanity saving pillow.

The doubt smell strengthened.

"If you don't believe me then go tell him that the punchline to the joke his buddy forgot earlier is 'Always look both ways before you cross the street.' Devon remembered it right after Oz pulled away. You can also tell him that it's a seriously lame joke and so not worth the long buildup for the pathetic punchline."

Angel did exactly that and then he even had Oz call his buddy's cell phone to find out when exactly he had remembered the punchline. He didn't however pass on Buffy's message about the comedic merits of the stupid joke. So, knowing that Oz's senses were also heightened, thanks to his inconvenient tendency of becoming a werewolf for three days out of every month, Buffy told him herself, speaking only a little louder than she had for Angel.

"Right, as usual, Buffy." he answered softly. His voice betrayed no emotions whatsoever but she could smell the slight amusement he exuded and couldn't stop herself from smiling a little. Maybe at least now she'd have some small insight into how to take the deadpan and often seemingly random comments he was always making so stoically.

And the fact that she couldn't sense anything doubtful or patronizing coming off of him gave her her next idea. So she acted immediately and accordingly.

"You gotta help me get some kind of control over this... whatever the hell is happening to me, Oz. It's been recent enough for you having to deal with the same thing that I think you might be the only one to help me."

"Anything for my girl's best friend." he answered her desperate plea in a normal voice.

"That's not necessary," Angel insisted. "I can help you Buffy. That's what I'm here for."

All of the different scents coming off of the other people downstairs merged together for a few moments as they all felt the same thing. Confused.

"I don't think so, Angel," Buffy answered coldly. "I'd rather have someone who believes what I'm saying is going on then someone that still smells like doubt and bemusement."

This comment was followed by the sound of Oz inhaling heavily through his mouth and then the scent of what could only be disapproval coming off of the cool as cucumbers wolf. "Whenever you're ready, Buff." Oz said before turning to explain to the rest of the non super sense endowed room. Buffy dived into her closet, throwing things around haphazardly until she found what she was looking for. The small kit she had used to take with her when she was still a small child taking swimming lessons at the local pool.

Inside were the exact objects she was praying to find. Ear plugs and nose clips. She couldn't help the small giggle of relief that escaped her when she put them on and everything receded to a level that, while still much stronger than she was used to, was at least bearable. She ran downstairs and neatly dodged the big meaty Angel hand that was reaching for her. "No, Angel. I'm still mad at you for doubting me that way." she said, without giving him a chance to respond.

"I'm gonna take you someplace special Buffy." Oz whispered. She sent him a grateful smile for his consideration. "It's a place I discovered when I was trying to adjust to the changes last year and it really helped me out."

She tilted her head curiously at the smell of eagerness coming off the musically inclined wolf, but followed him out without comment after telling Angel to do patrol tonight and softly reassuring her family and friends. She also tucked away the scent of smugness coming off of Xander's girlfriend Anya, the former vengeance demon for future reference before climbing into Oz's van for her first lesson on coping with extreme over stimulation.

It only took three days at the rundown shack in the middle of the redwood forest that Oz took her to for Buffy to get a grip on herself and learn how to both focus and tone down her reaction to all the new information she was receiving through her nose and ears now. Oz stayed with her for the first twelve hours, speaking more in that time, as he explained the techniques that worked for him, than she had heard out of him in the last eight months all together.

And being able to smell the emotions he was feeling gave her a whole new appreciation for the man that was hidden behind his cryptic comments and stoic face. She was finally able to lose the slight sense of unease she had always felt in his presence and was amused with herself when she realized she was grateful that she wasn't the least bit attracted to him, and so wouldn't start to feel jealous of Willow.

When she came back on the fourth day, she had no doubt that Oz must have spoken to everyone about what she was going through because all of a sudden no one would wear perfume or speak above a whisper when she was with them. She laughed to herself about it for about a day before telling them that they could go back to acting normally around her now that she had gotten a handle on it. It had just been too overwhelming for her before, to suddenly acquire such drastically heightened senses.

But now that she was able to deal with it, she was also able to see all the huge advantages. Patrol had changed drastically. Instead of wandering around, hoping to run into baddies she was hunting them down wherever they were. The vampire population took a huge hit in the first few weeks after she was back on patrol, and she was thrilled on her first night back to realize that her senses weren't the only thing that had improved. She was stronger now too. A lot stronger. Sometimes she almost felt bad for the baddies she was killing and dusting.

With the enormous advantages she now had it almost felt like...cheating. Before she had always been on equal, if not lower ground but now it took almost no effort to perform her 'sacred duties', opening up a lot of free time to spend with her friends and yes even, god save us, doing her homework.

The constant smell of lust coming off of Xander every time he looked at her bothered her a little bit, but since he never acted on it, having mostly accepted a long time ago that he had no chance with her, she brushed it off as largely unimportant.

Willow, thankfully put some real effort into continuing to treat Buffy the same way she always had, and after a few days it no longer took effort to do, and Oz, as usual was a stoic, cryptic pillar of multi hued locks and dependability, something that Buffy quickly came to rely on almost as much as Willow did.

Angel lurked around a lot more than usual the first couple of nights that she was back, until she cornered him and told him in no uncertain terms that she was still disappointed in his reactions when she needed him, and that when she was ready to forgive him she would let him know.

Without him constantly there, stalking her from a distance, she was quickly able to move on from anger to forgiveness and then back to her usual desire to be with him. After telling him that they were good again, she asked him out on a 'platonic', friends only, movie date.

He let her pick the movie, and she chose one that she thought would be about food, vaguely thinking that she might pick up some good tips for cooking now that her skills in that regard had greatly improved thanks to her new and improved sense of super smell.

As they watched the images on the large screen, her intense discomfort with the extremely sexual nature of the film slowly morphed into arousal as she couldn't help but replace the face of the woman with her own. She imagined eyes looking up at her from between her legs and was shocked to realize that the eyes in her mind were sky blue rather than the deep introspective brown that she felt she should be imagining.

Not that the man with the brown eyes could do anything about her arousal. At the risk of losing his soul and becoming the evil Angelus again, a short moment of happy just wasn't worthy. Not to either one of them.

This thought brought back the discomfort from earlier. She felt horrible for bringing him to a movie like this when he couldn't do anything about the feelings it was surely arousing in him, and she told him so when they left the theater. No sooner than he had starting kissing her after he finished telling her that he always felt the same way about her, with or without pornographic movies, and could control his desire and still enjoy her company, an arrow shot through his chest, just inches from his heart, knocking him to the ground at her feet.

Of course, nothing in her life could be so simple as just pulling the arrow out and letting his vampire healing take care of the hole. The arrow had been poisoned with some sort of concoction aimed directly at killing vampires and he was nearly dead before Giles' research finally pulled through and they knew that only the blood of a Slayer could save him.

Even out of his mind with fever though, he refused to drink from her until after she knocked him around a bit and drew his demon to the surface before presenting her neck to him again.

He pulled the blood out of her veins in large and painful pulls. She tried to struggle away when she realized that her heart was slowing down, but she had already weakened too much to overpower him. Thankfully he pulled away under his own power before she reached the point of no return. She was grateful at first, until she heard the growls coming from his chest, then something inside her leaped to attention and seemed to take over her body. She felt an odd shifting in her mouth just before she turned and bit down on his neck. In her mind, she was screaming in disgust at the feel of his blood, or maybe it was her blood, just run through the filter of his body, flowing down her throat.

Despite the repulsion she was feeling in her mind, however, her body gloried in the taste and sensations. She kept drinking for what seemed like forever, until the same thing that was controlling her and making this happen seemed to know that he was close to dusting again. Then she detached and raised her wrist to her mouth, slicing it open with what could only be her own handy, dandy set of fangs, and presenting the bloody cut to his mouth.

It was flowing slower from her wrist than it did from her neck, she knew, so she let him suck the blood from her for what seemed a long time but really was no more than just a couple of pints. When the...thing in control of her body decided he had had enough she pulled away and began growling something that sounded like words, only it was a language she didn't know.

When she finished, Angel was looking up at her in horror as she felt the strange shift in her mouth again that she now knew must be her fangs receding back into her gums.

"Do you realize what you've just done?" Angel asked, managing to sound angry and dangerous despite the blood loss he was now suffering from. "You've just claimed me as your minion! In more than two centuries of existence, I have never been a lowly minion, and now a freakin' high school girl claims me as her minion! Why would you do something like that?" he demanded.






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