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A Slayer’s Wolf
By Melanie Walker
Prologue:
Rupert Giles
sat in his darkened office, a glass of scotch in one hand, head tilted
comfortably to stare at the ceiling as he enjoyed the sound of silence.
After two
weeks of having two precocious five-year-olds running rampant through his home
everything seemed eerily silent.
It was nice.
He made a
mental note to make sure that during his beloved sister’s next visit that their
daughter was not present. And to make sure that David didn’t not bring his son
so that the girl would not be alone.
He loved children
he truly did. But the anxiety of worrying about what condition his ancestral
home would be in once
He enjoyed
the visits primarily because Joyce was the only member of their family that he
was still on good terms with. Part of that due to the fact that her husband was
also a member of the Watcher’s Council.
In fact
Rupert himself had introduced the two.
Joyce had
seen the desperation for quiet on his face before the others and arranged for
the girls nanny to take both children back to the states two days prior. Thus
allowing the men to conclude their Council business without sticky hands
butting in trying to ‘help’.
His sister,
her husband, David and his wife had all departed this morning. Taking the
councils private jet at his insistence to return home.
A quiet tap
on the door interrupted his musings and he lifted his head, beckoning for the
servant to enter.
“What is
Jon?” a shiver of alarm running down his back as he saw his most faithful
servants expression. When no response was forthcoming the shiver turned to
piercing pain as he slowly came to his feet as he noticed the tears streaming
down the older mans face. “Jon?”
“I’m so
sorry,” Jon whispered as he cast his eyes downwards. Rupert moved slowly
towards him.
“Jon?”
“The plane…”
“What about
the plane?” his eyes narrowed then widened as the implications of the statement
hit him. “No…”
“The plane
crashed… they’re all dead,” Jon whispered his shoulders shaking as he tried to
contain his sobs. Tried to be stoic and withdrawn as he had been trained to be
since childhood.
Rupert sank
to his knees his eyes wide with disbelief. “Joyce…”
“Sir what
about the children?” Jon asked softly wiping furiously at his eyes. “They’re
all alone right now…”
“Oh dear
lord,” he murmured as the first tears fell unheeded down his cheeks. “Oh dear
lord the children.”
**************************************************************************************
Chapter 1
Daniel ‘Oz’ Osbourne
winced as he heard the feminine voice raise once more in octave.
To say the
Slayer was not pleased at his arrival would be a definite understatement. She
was furious and was intent on verbally letting her Watcher and everyone within
a ten-mile radius know it.
So he sat
where he had been instructed to wait upon his arrival. Outside the study where
she was currently screaming, uncomfortable in the suit that he had been told in
no uncertain terms that he should arrive in, a small duffel bag containing his
most immediate possessions of his belongings at his feet and the imminent
feeling of impending doom.
He frowned
as he glared at the door. He didn’t want to be here anymore than she obviously
wanted him here.
“Do you
remember what happened the last time we let a wolf work with us!?!” she yelled
ignoring her Watchers pleas to calm down. Seemingly ignoring the fact that the
young man that she was taking exception with was sitting right outside the door
trying to not listen to her very vocal temper tantrum.
“This is
different… We have been assured that Mr. Osbourne has infinitely more control
over his wolf than young Mr. Salt…”
“We were
told that before and look what happened!!”
“Buffy…”
“He tried to
eat us all… the only thing that stopped him was the fact that Xander and I
together are stronger than he was if we hadn’t been we would have been a
werewolf’s
Oz sighed as
he slouched further into his seat. He like every other wolf in his pack was
aware of what had happened the last time the Council had offered the Pack a
chance to once again become a part of their organization. To once more be an
integral part of the Warriors of light’s fight against the opposing side.
It had taken
two years before the Council had even entertained the thought of offering them
a chance to redeem themselves.
Of course
listening to the Slayers protests they obviously had not consulted her before offering the Pack the chance. Of course why
should she be any different? They hadn’t consulted him either.
His pack
leaders had just told him that he was their best choice. That he was the only
thing standing between the pack being totally repudiated by the Council. And as
one of the only two remaining Packs to have any contact with the Council that
could not be allowed to happen.
It was a
matter of Pride.
But Oz would
have been perfectly happy within the confines of his Pack. It had taken him
years until he felt comfortable with the wolf within him. Comfortable enough
with his other half where he, as any red blooded eighteen-year-old male, had
began to seek out female companionship. He had just started a relationship with
a newcomer to their pack.
An outsider
named Veruca, had arrived unannounced, with no last name and pleaded for
admittance. It had been allowed with strings attached of course. He had been
planning on taking her as mate.
Eventually
anyway.
The elders
had been harping at him for his indecision in the matter.
Fresh blood
in the pack and all. If he took her as mate it would ensure her loyalty to them
and would ensure his place within the pack.
But Oz
couldn’t help but feel that something was missing. From her, from their
relationship. She was to gleeful, to joyful in the destruction that her wolf
caused during the moon cycles.
Even his
wolf couldn’t stomach the destruction that she reveled in. So he put the
decision off.
But to
appease his pack leaders he would have done anything. Of course it seemed that
he had waited to long to make a decision and it had been taken out of his
hands. Veruca would go to someone else and he would become the Slayer’s new
wolf. And hopefully not shame his Pack in the process.
He glanced
over at the still closed door, where the voices had lowered somewhat but could
still be heard. Of course not shaming his Pack meant that at some point he
would have to deal with the woman behind that door.
At seventeen
Elizabeth Summers was one of the most successful Slayers. Had lived longer than
most of her predecessors even being situated on top of the England Hellmouth.
“Are they
still at it?” Oz jumped as he heard a voice come from next to him. So caught up
in appearing as if he was ignoring the ongoing fight he had missed the new
arrival. Casting a quick glance to his right he saw a young man, around his age
leaning carelessly against the wall.
This was the
hunter. The Demon Hunter who was partnered with the Slayer much like himself.
Studying him Oz found he might be able to like this young man. Wavy black hair,
brown eyes, friendly face.
“I guess,
the yelling’s gotten softer though.”
“They could
still be at it for ages though. Buff she’s got a lot of repressed anger over
the last incident,” the young man shrugged as he pushed himself off the wall
coming to stand before him. “I’m Alexander… my friends call me Xander,” he
smiled extending his hand. “You’re Daniel Osbourne right?”
“Yeah that’s
me,” Oz grinned ruefully back. “Although from the sounds of her I may not admit
that to anyone else.”
“She’ll
relax after you don’t try to kill us,” Xander smirked. “I’m supposed to show
you where you’ll be living.”
“You seem
really sure that I’m going to be staying,” Oz frowned once more at the door as
he stood.
“You’ll have
to cut my cousin some slack… when Jeremy… the other wolf… when he went
homicidal on us Buffy was the first person he went after,” Xander stated as he
walked down the hallway Oz following after him.
“Didn’t know
that.”
“Not really
common knowledge…” Xander shrugged. “Buffy doesn’t really like to talk about it
so don’t bring it up.”
Then why tell me about it, Oz stared at him. Before nodding
his head to acknowledge that he understood the request for secrecy. Out of the
corner of his eye he studied Xander as he walked.
The family
itself was legendary. Through the grapevine that broadcast all things Demon
related Oz knew that his father had been a Watcher, as had the Slayers. That
the two sets of parents had died in a plane crash some 12 years prior leaving
the Slayers uncle to raise the two small children.
Both
children had ended up being Called. The girl as the Slayer, the boy as a Demon
Hunter. And in the two years that they had been active they had stopped various
apocalypses, had stopped the London Hellmouth from opening, had killed a record
amount of vampires, demons and other assorted nasties.
But as he
watched this legendary Demon Hunter walk Oz couldn’t help but wonder how he
didn’t fall flat on his face.
He walked
with no real direction, just sort of haphazardly loped along. It was after a
few minutes of studying him that Oz realized that it was an act. Xander had
probably been doing it for so long that probably never even realized that he was still doing it.
He was making
himself a target. With the way he held himself, the way he moved… any demon
that came upon him and the Slayer in action would automatically go for Xander
first thinking him the weaker and most easily disposed of before turning their
attention to the Slayer.
He knew that
the Slayer had the whole super strength, super healing thing going on. But
Xander being male and a Hunter to boot was probably still just a tad bit
stronger. As well as having the added body weight and muscle strength.
With a smirk
lining his face he let himself be led into a bedroom preparing to actually
confront him and find out but instead stopped dead in his tracks, eyes widening
in amazement.
“Holy crap,”
he breathed.
“Yeah,”
Xander shrugged. “The house I lived in when I was a kid would have fit into my
bedroom… Uncle Rupert likes to live large I guess, plus you know it’s the
family estate.”
“Huh,” Oz
just muttered as he dropped his bag on the floor. “My entire pack could fit in
here… comfortably,” he said circling the room taking it all in. The bed itself
did seem to be big enough for his entire pack. “Though I probably shouldn’t get
to comfortable…”
“What do you
mean?” Xander asked in confusion.
“You know,”
Oz gestured at the door. “The Slayers little problem with me… or actually just wolves in general.”
Xander waved
the thought away as he moved towards the door. “Don’t worry about it, she’s
just blowing off steam. Uncle Rupert wouldn’t have called me to come show you
around if you weren’t staying… she’ll be back to herself at dinner,” he glanced
down at his watch. “Which is in about an hour. You can unpack or whatever.”
“I don’t
think I remember how to get back downstairs,” Oz said truthfully staring out
the doorway that would once again lead him into the maze that seemed to be his
new home.
Xander
nodded. “Yeah…. The house is kinda big isn’t it? Took me and Buff forever when
we were kids to learn our way around. Great for playing hide and seek though.
I’ll tell you what, I’ll come back before dinner, show you how to get back
downstairs, maybe draw you a map or something.”
“Cool
thanks.”
“No
problem,” Xander grinned at him. “Welcome to the team.”
**************************************************************************************
Chapter 2
“…and this is
the dining room,” Xander was finishing as he led Oz into yet another room on
their tour.
“I really
think that a map of this place would be helpful,” Oz muttered under his breath.
Xander smirked as he nodded at his Uncle.
“Buffy and I
tried to talk Uncle Rupert into putting up maps like the ones you see in big
malls… You know the ones with the little star that says ‘You are here’,” Xander
frowned as he glanced around the room. Noting that Buffy was conspicuously
absent. “But he said no.”
“She’ll be
down shortly,” Rupert said as he walked towards them a glass held in one hand
his other extended to greet their newest member. “You must be Daniel.”
“Oz,” he
supplied shaking the older mans hand. “The only person that calls me Oz is my
mother… and that’s only when I’m in trouble.”
“I’ll
attempt to remember that,” Rupert smiled turning his attention to Xander he
motioned for them to take seats at the already set table. “Where’s Druscilla? I
thought for sure that she’d want to be here to meet Mr. Osborne.”
“Family
dinner with her family… she’ll be back a little later,” Xander grimaced. Dinner
with Druscilla’s family was an adventure that he didn’t like undertaking. And
one that he didn’t like her undertaking alone.
Her family
was overly vocal in their disapproval of her talents.
While they
didn’t mind her working for the Watcher’s Council, utilizing witchcraft and her
psychic abilities for that purpose had marked her as an outcast amongst her
family. She would undoubtedly be in a rare mood, most likely depressed when she
returned.
If there was
anything she hated dealing with it was the pressure of her family.
Rupert’s
brow wrinkled as he watched Buffy enter. She was still angry and wary of their
newest member. Her eyes downcast her posture rigid he knew that she wouldn’t be
satisfied until Dru’d had a chance to meet Oz herself.
Dru had
disliked Jeremy upon first meeting him. She had warned them time and again that
he was dangerous and that his control had been overestimated.
If they had
listened to her Buffy and Xander may not have been almost killed as they fended
off the wolf when he finally attacked.
“My niece
Elizabeth,” Rupert waved in Buffy’s direction. “She also goes by a nickname so
just call her Buffy.”
“Buffy,” Oz nodded
throwing a crooked smile he held out his hand for her to take. After a moment
she took it, her grip tight on his with her Slayer strength both sets of eyes
widened as a spark of something… a spark of recognition flared through them.
Buffy discreetly yanked her hand away averting her eyes as she clenched her
hand at her side. Oz flexed his as he stared openly at her.
He hadn’t
felt a connection like that since Veruca. And even then it had been weak,
barely there.
When Buffy’s
skin had touched his it was like his entire body was being electrically
charged.
He knew what
had been formed in that moment even if she didn’t. He wondered how long it
would take for her to accept it. How long he would have to wait before she
accepted him.
“Are we
ready for dinner then?” Rupert smiled totally oblivious to what had just
happened.
**************************************************************************************
Buffy
absent-mindedly dragged her fork around her plate as she unobtrusively observed
Oz’s interactions with her immediate family.
For some
reason it bothered her that he had made such fast friends with Xander.
Normally, Jeremy notwithstanding, Xander was as excellent a judge of character
as Dru. And if he could accept this stranger into their midst with no complaint
she didn’t understand her feeling of unease around him.
Of course
she hadn’t felt the level of connection that she had felt with just the simple
touch of their hands with anyone else either.
It had
pained her more than she cared to admit to herself when she’d forcibly drawn
her hand away.
It had felt
as if she was losing a part of herself that she hadn’t even known was
missing. But she couldn’t relax until
Dru had cleared him. Until she knew that she didn’t need to fear a repeat of
the Jeremy debacle.
It disturbed
her mindset greatly that she felt she couldn’t trust him. Because that moment
that their hands had touched and their eyes had met she had seen everything
she’d ever wanted reflected in their midst.
She’d seen a
lifetime of safety and partnership instead of death and despair.
Besides if
he was in fact that one that she was searching for, the one that Whistler had
said would come to her she would have thought the moment would have been
bigger.
Fireworks or
something.
Not a simple
static moment that could be attributed to her dragging her feet on the carpet
as she walked into the room.
“What do you
think Buffy?” she was forcefully dragged from her private musing and looked up
to find all three men staring at her.
“What do I
think about what?” she asked with a frown. The last thing she remembered them
talking about was American football. A game that she had absolutely no interest
in so she couldn’t understand why they were asking her thoughts on the matter.
Xander
smirked as he realized that she had been so caught up in her own private little
world that she had missed the subject changing from sports to business. “You
get used to it after a while,” he said in a mildly conspiratorial tone to Oz.
The raised
eyebrows and the fingers beginning to tap a steady staccato rhythm out on the
table told him that he would pay for that remark the moment she got him alone.
Mentally he made a note to keep one of the others with him at all times until
she found someone else to direct her energies towards.
“We were
talking about the Hellmouth,” Oz said quietly his eyes steadily locking on
hers.
“What about
it?” she asked, she knew that she should be worried that she couldn’t break his
gaze. Should be worried that she didn’t want to, but the only emotions she was
feeling vibrating, humming in a connection between the two of them was peace,
contentment.
Home.
Shakily she
reached for something to grip, to hold onto. She had no clue what the hell was
going on. Why her feelings of unease had all of a sudden been replaced with
something else. Finally her hand came in contact with her glass and she
clenched her hand around the stem.
“Xander
mentioned that you’ve found a way to lock it…” he prompted a small smile
dancing across his lips as he watched her shakily lift her water glass to her
lips, taking a small sip her eyes continuing to stay with his. She had no clue
what was happening.
With what
had happened with Jeremy, with the way she’d fought him he knew that a
connection had not been made between them.
Even though
from all accounts Jeremy had obviously tried to force one on her.
Had tried to
force her into taking the role of his mate. Whether she realized it or not
she’d already chosen him. Already accepted him on a basic fundamental level.
When she realized it herself, or her uncle, her watcher recognized the signs
they would all need to talk.
But for now
he was relishing in the feelings that were coursing through the newly formed
bond.
Her
nervousness, her fears, her desires all crashing like a wave over him.
“Oh… that…
actually it was Dru,” Buffy said with a nervous laugh. “She thought it might be
easier to fight the bad guys if we weren’t always so worried about the
Hellmouth attracting new ones trying to open it.”
“There’s two
isn’t there?”
“Hellmouths?”
Rupert smiled. “Oh yes. There’s the one here in
“If the
spell works are you going to seal that one as well?” Oz asked directing his
attention to the watcher much to Buffy’s relief. The tension that had been
prevalent eased and she relaxed in her chair. She silently sent out a plea for
Dru to hurry back. She didn’t think she could stand the tension between them
for much longer.
She needed
to know if she could trust him.
“If the
spell works we’ll certainly close the one in the States. We’ll need to do some
intensive testing though to make sure that it does work and is not a temporary
solution.”
Buffy rolled
her eyes as she leaned back in her chair. “So what he means, in non-Watcher
speak, is that we’ll all be dead and buried by the time ‘testing’ is done and
the Hellmouth can be closed.”
“
**************************************************************************************
TBC