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Buffy could sense the tension in the group around her. It was thick in the air, leaving her feeling short-tempered and irritable. Finally she hauled Spike over to the corner of the room by an arm, demanding to know what was happening. His face was impassive, but she could see the strained look in his eyes.

“’s the full moon tonight, pet. Willow wants to try out a new binding spell on Oz. She wants to bind the wolf part of him inside so he can go without transforming. She reckons it should work fine, and Tara agrees, but it’s a big magic.”

Buffy felt nervous anticipation uncurl inside her. She’d only ever been around the results of a magical working that went wrong once. Jenny, her former Watcher Giles’ gypsy girlfriend, had barely got away with her life the first time Angelus had been freed. The lucky escape, however, had made her overconfident.

She still felt guilty for the inadvertent part she’d played in Jenny’s death. The woman had secretly stolen to Buffy’s grave after her sacrifice for Dawn, calling forth black magic more terrible than she’d imagined. It had consumed her as soon as she finished the spell, leaving a newly resurrected Buffy to dig herself out of her grave and come across her remains. She shuddered at the memory.

Jerking herself back to reality to find Spike’s probing gaze on her, she smiled weakly and retreated to the training room, lifting a heavy axe and running through a complex series of exercise designed to make her faster on her feet when carrying a heavier weapon; it had been Giles’ favourite routine.

After tiring herself out sufficiently to leech away some of the tension in her muscles, she went back to her room and napped. It was unusual for a vampire to be awake during the day, and her body was protesting so much daytime activity.

The muffled voices that travelled through the wall woke her. In the strange manner she’d perfected while imprisoned by her demon relatives, she went from a light sleep to instant alertness with barely a second’s interval. Rising from the nest she’d made of her bed, she padded to the closet. Dressing quickly in loose sweats and a strappy top, she slipped into the living room, absorbing the sights.

Oz, clad only in a pair of white boxer shorts, stood in the heart of a curious, almost-but-not-quite circular diagram. Strange, wiggly lines seemed to curve around it, as though they were thin arms reaching out and drawing everything around them in. White candles lay at the ends of the arms that pointed North, East, South and West.

The innate vampiric sense told her that sundown had just come, and she could feel the Slayer part of her stirring restlessly. The demon, for once agreeing with its opposite, shifted nervously inside of her. The hair on the back of her neck rose as Oz began to twitch. When he looked up again, his jaw was wider and fangs protruded from beneath his lips, his eyes totally black.

Almost without realising it, Buffy let her game face slide into place. Spike heard the low growl rumbling in her throat as Willow began to chant; he turned to look at her, bathed in candlelight, silver eyes glittering with feral warning. They were fixed on Oz as his body began to change, his muscles shifting as his bones realigned, a savage snarl causing drops of yellow spittle to hang from his fangs.

Willow’s chanting increased, and suddenly the white chalk around the werewolf began to glow. When the witch opened her eyes, they were glimmering with her power, her voice suddenly echoing powerfully as her hands rose. Buffy growled again, the crackle of magic on the air making her shiver.

Then, with a commanding shout, Willow pointed at Oz. The wolf howled, curling in on itself. For a moment it flickered, the lines of reality distorting as a human form came into view. The next moment the werewolf was back, quivering with unleashed fury. It flung itself straight at Willow, who was swaying from the effort of using so much magic.

Just before it reached the terrified witch, Xander caught one brutally strong hind leg. In midair, the wolf twisted, lashing out at his hand with sharp claws. He dropped it, flinging himself back. Xander backed away, suddenly stopping as he hit the corner of the room, his frightened face draining of its colour.

Spike stepped forwards, shoving the others back with a warning shout as the beast lunged for its cornered prey. Before the Slayer could move, Buffy shot across them room with preternatural speed, flinging herself onto its back. Her eyes glittered and she let out a fierce growl, relinquishing control to her demon half.

Oz howled in agony as she sank her fangs into the back of his neck. He spun around, frantically clawing at her as it tried to dislodge her smaller body. Hanging on with grim determination, she lifted her blood-stained lips long enough to shout at the unmoving Xander.

“Move!”

The werewolf took advantage of her distraction to slam her into the wall. Hard. Grunting at the impact, she buried the last part of the Slayer still clinging stubbornly to control deep in her subconscious. Given free reign, the demon her body housed grinned manically, a blood-curdling roar making its way from her throat.

With gusto, she threw herself back into the fray, ignoring the sting as sharp claws scored her sides. Latching her teeth into the furry chest beneath her, she shook her head like a dog, tearing long rips in the vulnerable flesh. Oz snarled in pain, batting her away as though she was nothing more than an irritation.

Preparing to launch herself back onto the wolf, she jumped sideways as it jerked twice. Peering over its head as it staggered, she caught sight of a grim-looking Wood holding a tranquilizer gun. The beast gave a last final slap at her, which she dodged easily, before crumpling to the floor and laying in a twitching heap.

Buffy stepped cautiously over it, not wasting any time in retreating to the other side of the room. For a moment she struggled to regain control, the adrenaline and blood-lust pumping in her veins making the demon wild and frenzied. Then the part of her that was still Slayer reasserted its dominance, and her features melted back into their human mask.

Looking around the room at the furniture she hadn’t realised they’d damaged, and then at the exhausted and pale-faced Willow and Xander, she gave a wry grin. Popping her neck, she winced and rubbed her lower back. When she spoke, it was into a nervous silence.

“Not that that wasn’t fun or anything, but next time you want me to fight a werewolf, can we do it in a room with padded walls?”

Spike was the only one who laughed as Xander collapsed in a dead faint.





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