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The Loyal Type

By TJ Thwaite

Author's Note: This story was inspired by the "Let Me Count The Ways" collection by Dawn Steele (available on the SunS Archive). And profuse thanks to Dawn for beta reading this and offering suggestions (some of which I actually took).

Xander: ".....and that kind of breed can turn on its owner." Buffy: "I don't know. I kinda see Oz as the loyal type." ---Phases---
_______________________

"Oz?!?" Willow's voice sounded surprised.

"Yeah, it's me," Oz chuckled into the phone.

"But...," Willow sputtered, "The sun's already set....the full moon....shouldn't you be....well, you know?"

"Moonrise isn't for another few minutes yet," Oz explained, "And before you ask, yes, I'm just about to lock myself up. I just wanted to hear your voice before I do."

"That's *so* sweet, Oz," Willow said a little breathlessly, "But I....hunh? Oh God! Angel!! *NOOOOOOO*!!!"

Oz felt every muscle in his body tense when he heard Angel's name. Willow's terrified scream and the dull thud of her phone hitting the floor shocked Oz from his flash of paralysis. He dropped the phone and ran for the front door. Grabbing the keys for his van from the table in the front hall, he rushed out the door. All other considerations shoved to the back of his mind, he left twin rubber trails on the street as he floored the accelerator. He had to get to Willow. NOW.

=====

Oz was only a few blocks from Willow's house when felt the pain in his middle, doubling him over and almost making him lose control of the speeding van.

[Not now!] he raged silently, stunned that he'd forgotten about the phase of the moon, [This *can't* be happening. I can't spend the next three nights locked up! Willow's in trouble! Have to find her!]

He managed to pull the van to the curb and shut off the engine before he opened his door and flopped to the pavement. He could feel the transformation starting. He raged silently against the Fates as his body changed. This can't happen *now*

[Can't lose control,] he repeated to himself, [Willow's in danger! Must find her. Find Willow. HelphelpWillowprotectprotect*protect*!]

As Oz, the werewolf, slowly stood up, a small portion of Oz, the high school senior, remained in charge in his mind. And that portion had only one all-encompassing priority: protect his girlfriend. With a ferocious snarl, he started running toward Willow's house, leaving his torn clothes on the pavement beside his van, its driver's door hanging open and the keys still in the ignition.

=====

Willow struggled ineffectually as Angel carried her toward the park. She was no match for his strength, and every time she managed to land a kick on his shins he would effortlessly lift her from the ground for a few paces before slamming her down again and causing her to stumble as he continued to drag her along. Unable to scream with his hand over her mouth, she was reduced to whimpering in terror. She thought briefly about biting his hand in an attempt to force him to release her long enough for one good ear-piercing scream. But the counter-thought that she just might draw blood-- *vampire* blood --if he held on terrified her even more. If she tasted his blood and then he drained her....

Willow shuddered. She knew what was going to happen soon: Angel was going to kill her and leave her body where Buffy would find it.

=====

The fence around the Rosenberg's back yard was not much of an obstacle. In his current fearful rage, Oz barely noticed the hole he left in his wake after charging through it. The splintered boards settled to the grass as he stood in the middle of the yard, his head held high so he could sniff the air.

[MustfindWillowprotectprotectprotect,] the litany repeated itself endlessly in his thoughts.

The enhanced senses of Oz's current form soon picked out the scents he was interested in. That special indefinable something that just screamed 'Willow', overlaid by the sour aroma of her terror, and something faint and cloying. Death was in the air. Oz turned slightly, his predatory instincts pointing the way. He left the Rosenberg's yard, tracking the scents.

[ProtectWillowfindfindprotectprotect.]

=====

"Now, we wait," Angel whispered in Willow's ear. His voice had a twisted sort of sensuality to it.

She attempted to renew her struggles, but his arms held her like steel bands. He chuckled softly in her ear. She went limp in his grasp when he moved slightly, allowing his fangs to graze her throat.

"Now, now," he said quietly, "I still haven't quite decided how to play this. Do I kill you now and leave you where she'll find the body when she patrols by, or do I wait until she's close enough to see us but not be close enough to stop me?"

A tiny resigned moan fluttered in Willow's throat. She became a little disoriented when Angel suddenly whirled around, having heard something in the trees behind them.

"Tricky, Buffy," he called into the darkness, "I wasn't expecting you by here for another ten minutes."

Angel paused his taunting when the reply was an unexpected, but very menacing, growl. The dark form which rushed from beneath the trees was definitely *not* the Slayer. Oz crashed into the pair, throwing everyone to the ground. The impact loosened Angel's hold and Willow found herself tumbling across the grass, several deep scratches adorning both her arms from the claws of the werewolf who came to her rescue and the talons of the vampire who'd been holding her.

She managed to right herself with some difficulty, both her arms protested painfully and she was slightly dazed from this sudden turn of events. Gathering her wits, she stood up, preparing to run for her life. The shocking scene in front of her rooted her feet to the ground. The two snarling, growling combatants slashed at each other with merciless, murderous swipes. Steel-hard talons against razor sharp claws.

"OZ!!" Willow cried when he howled in pain.

The werewolf ignored the pain in his side and the blood beginning to mat his fur and launched another attack. Angel's brief moment of distraction, caused by his shock at learning that Willow knew the identity of his werewolf opponent, allowed Oz to penetrated his defenses. Fear suddenly raced through Angel's body, nearly overriding the intense pain as the werewolf's claws raked him from shoulder to hip, ripping easily through his leather jacket and the the thin shirt beneath it to leave four deep gashes across his torso.

Blinded by the pain, Angel staggered backward. Oz pressed the attack, once again connecting with a brutal swipe and leaving more bloody wounds across the vampire's chest. Oz leapt suddenly, forcing Angel to the ground. Angel could feel his strength starting to fail as he wrapped both hands around the werewolf's throat, ignoring the new rents the creature was making in his sides.

Oz slashed at Angel again, this time ripping through the clothing at his shoulders, peeling away the flesh of his upper arms. Angel screamed in agony. The strength fled from his arms and his hands fell away from Oz's throat. With a triumphant roar, the werewolf leaned in and sank his fangs into the vampire's throat, ripping away the flesh like paper. Again, the werewolf's powerful jaws closed on the vampire's neck. With a massive shake, the crushing force of those jaws tore through Angel's spine and severed his head from his body.

Oz collapsed to the ground as Angel turned to ashes underneath him. He lay there, panting, as the pain from his own injuries screamed for attention. He whimpered deep in his throat when a pair of small, gentle hands rolled him onto his back and cradled his head and shoulders in a soft welcoming lap. He looked up into the tear-filled eyes of his girlfriend, his human soul shining in his eyes briefly before the lids slid closed and he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"*OZ*!!" Willow wailed as he went limp in her arms.

The tears running freely down her cheeks, Willow hugged him tightly. She gasped in relief when he whimpered in pain. He was still alive! Unconscious, terribly wounded, but *alive*.

=====

Buffy Summers was beginning her patrol through the park when she heard the faint echoes of growling and howls of pain. At first, thinking that the noises were caused by fighting dogs, she ignored the sounds to concentrate on her job; slaying vampires. But slayage concerns vanished when she heard Willow's voice, raised in an anguished wail. Altering her course and breaking into a run, Buffy headed in that direction.

A minute later, Buffy arrived at a scene that brought her heart to her throat. Willow sat on the ground, cradling the bloody form of a werewolf in her arms. Her shirt sleeves had been torn off, revealing the still bleeding scratches on her arms. Her body shook with muffled sobs, but the hands pressing on the makeshift bandage that used to be her sleeves were steady.

"Oh my God, Willow," Buffy blurted, "What happened?"

"He saved me," Willow replied, her voice rough with emotion, "He saved me."

As Buffy knelt beside her friend, she finally noticed the faint signs of a spread of ashes in grass.

[Vampire,] she thought, [Oz saved her from a vampire? How would he have known? And why wasn't he locked up in the first place?]

"He's hurt really bad, Buffy," Willow whispered, her worry evident, "We have to get help."

Buffy looked down at the injured werewolf, somewhat at a loss. There was no way they could take him to a hospital, and she had doubts about the wisdom of approaching a veterinarian, either. How would they explain this?

Oz was too big for the girls to move on their own, especially with those scratches on Willow's arms. Buffy, with the augmented strength that came with being the Slayer, could have dragged him, but the despairing look on Willow's face convinced her that Oz's wounds were very serious indeed. They definitely needed help. In a hurry.

"There's a bank of pay phones at the edge of the park," Buffy said, "I'll run and call Giles. Will you two be okay for a few minutes? I'll be right back, Will. I promise."

Willow nodded jerkily, not taking her eyes off the unconscious body in her lap. Buffy jumped up and ran flat out to the pay phones.

[Giles is not gonna believe this,] she thought as she fed a quarter into the slot.

=====

"Giles is on his way," Buffy declared when she returned to Willow's side.

Willow nodded absently, still not looking away from Oz for a second. Buffy looked down at the blood-coated hands pressed to the makeshift bandage on Oz's side, noting that the cloth was soaked.

"And I kind of liked this shirt," Buffy sighed, shrugging off her jacket.

"Here, Will," she continued, pulling her T-shirt over her head and holding it out to the distraught redhead, "You can use this as a clean bandage."

Willow looked up, startled. Buffy handed her the shirt. As she was bending over to retrieve her jacket, she saw the moonlight reflect off something shiny amid the traces of vampire dust. Picking up the object, she recognized it instantly. Angel's claddagh ring, the mate to the one he'd given her. She looked at Willow, the question she couldn't voice obvious on her face.

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Willow whispered, "It was Angel."

"What happened?" Buffy asked.

"I was on the phone with Oz when Angel came into my room and grabbed me," Willow explained, her voice barely audible, "He brought me out here 'cause he knew you'd be by on patrol. He was gonna wait until you got close enough to see what was happening, but still too far away to do anything about it, before killing me. I don't know how Oz got here, but he did. He attacked Angel and killed him."

"How?" Buffy probed, "Oz couldn't have used a stake, could he? Not the way he is now."

"You don't want to know, Buffy," Willow replied, stricken.

Buffy was about to press for details, but she held back at the haunted look on Willow's face. Buffy's gaze flicked down to Oz, the Slayer part of her quickly cataloging his injuries, then rose again to Willow's face. The desperate plea there convinced Buffy that Willow was right. She *didn't* want to know. Whatever had happened must have been pretty horrible.

=====

"Buffy?" came Giles voice from the center of the park.

"Over here, Giles," Buffy shouted.

Giles arrived on the scene within a minute.

"My God!" he cried, taking in the injured werewolf and the bloody scratches on Willow's arms, "What happened here?"

"Later, Giles," Buffy retorted, "Right now we have help Oz. He's hurt pretty bad."

"He's gonna need at least a dozen stitches in the gash on his side," Willow added, "If you can get us to the school, I can probably raid what I need from the nurse's office."

"You sure you can handle the stitches, Will?" Buffy asked, "We could just keep putting fresh bandages on him until morning. After he changes back, we could take him to the hospital."

"I'm sure," Willow vowed, "He's already lost a lot of blood, I don't want him losing more waiting until dawn."

"But....?" Giles chopped himself off at the determined looks on both girls' faces.

Resigned, he stepped up to help Buffy lift Oz from the ground. As they carried the unconscious werewolf to his car, he turned to Buffy.

"Perhaps you should let Willow have your jacket to cover her arms," he said, quietly enough so Willow wouldn't hear him.

"No go, Giles," Buffy replied, equally quiet, "We already used my shirt as a bandage and I really don't think you'd want me walking around in just my bra."

Buffy stifled the giggle that threatened at the look on his face. The poor man was almost blushing. Willow crawled into the backseat of Giles' car first. Buffy and Giles were as gentle as possible passing Oz in to her before climbing into the front seats themselves.

"Why don't you explain tonight's adventure on the way to the school?" Giles asked as he pulled the car into the street.

Buffy's face closed up, tears springing to her eyes. It still wasn't quite real to her yet, but it was beginning to get past her denial. The claddagh ring in her hand flashing intermittently as the car passed under the streetlights. Angelus was destroyed, and Angel's soul would never return.

"Angel's dead," Willow said from the backseat when it became obvious that Buffy wasn't going to say anything, "He came after me. Oz saved me. They fought, Oz won."

"I'm sorry, Buffy," Giles whispered.

He spared a glance at the tear-stained face of the Slayer, conflicting emotions warring in his mind. A part of him was heaving a tremendous sigh of relief that Angelus was no longer a threat to Buffy or anyone else, himself included. But another part grieved with her over the loss of Angel, the soul she had fallen in love with. And whom Giles had once considered a friend and ally.

The rest of the trip to the high school passed in silence.

=====

"Wow!"

The awed whisper, soft as it was, still roused Oz. He opened his eyes and saw a stunned Willow standing at the end of the bed. Looking hurriedly around the room, he realized suddenly that he wasn't in his own house. This room had a definite feminine flavour to it. His eyes found, and locked onto several framed pictures sitting on a desk next to a computer.

He was in *Willow's* room! In her bed. *Naked*. Oh, man!

"Uh...," Oz started to blush.

"I've never seen a werewolf change back into a person before," Willow breathed, "Amazing."

"Willow?" Oz tried again, "Um, this may sound like an incredibly asinine thing to say, but what am I doing in your bed?"

"You got hurt last night," Willow replied, "And I wasn't about to leave you all alone in your basement."

"Hurt?" Oz asked, starting to sit up, "AAAHHHH!!"

Willow rushed to his side as Oz collapsed back on the bed. The pain in his side was incredible.

"Careful!" Willow entreated, "You got in a fight with Angel last night. I stitched up the gash he gave you, but I want to take a closer look now that you're.....well, *you* again. I think he might have cracked a couple of your ribs."

Willow pushed down the blanket far enough to expose the bandage taped to Oz's side.

"I fought *Angel*?" Oz gasped, "Why would I do something stupid like that?"

"He came after me," Willow whispered as she gently peeled away the gauze.

"WHAT?!?!" Oz shouted, "Willow, are you all right? He didn't hurt you, did he?"

Oz reached out and grabbed Willow's arm in his urgency. She winced noticeably as his hand closed around her upper arm.

"What happened?" Oz demanded.

"I'm okay, I just got scratched a little," Willow explained. Her eyes widened as the bandage came away and she could see the gash clearly.

"I don't believe this," she whispered, awed, "This looks like it's been healing for a week! Those stitches can probably come out now. And even if Angel did crack your ribs, they've probably healed enough that you don't need to have them taped up. If you keep recovering at this rate, you should be sore and stiff for only a couple more days."

"Willow," Oz insisted, "What happened last night?"

For the next twenty minutes, Willow told Oz of the previous night's events.

"You might want to keep a low profile around Buffy for a few days," Willow concluded, "Even though she knows Angel didn't leave any other choices, and that she probably would have staked him herself if she'd been there, she's still taking it pretty hard. Right now, why don't you take a shower and I can make us some breakfast?"

"Okay," Oz agreed, "But there's just one thing. Clothes?"

"Got you covered," Willow quipped, chuckling, "Giles found your gym bag when he moved your van to our driveway."

Oz followed Willow's pointing finger to see the bag in question sitting on the seat of Willows desk chair.

"What did I ever do to deserve you, Willow?" Oz asked as she headed for the door to allow him some privacy to get dressed.

"Who ever said you do?" Willow retorted, grinning from the doorway, "But I like you anyway."

"She is amazing," Oz murmured as she disappeared into the hallway.

END

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