Fic; Encounter (1B/?)

[JDMeans@xxxxxxx]

And here's the second part. Same disclaimers as before, Joss, Disney, yadda 
yadda yadda.

<<>>

<<>>

For the tenth time in as many minutes, Buffy's opponent charged her. And for 
the tenth time, Buffy was able to throw off her attacker, who landed 
gracelessly on the floor in front of her. Buffy puffed with relief, and 
smiled serenely at her would-be assailant. "Okay, Dawn, let's call it a 
day."

Buffy offered a hand to Dawn, and was refused. "I can get up myself, Buffy," 
Dawn complained as she hoisted herself off the practice mat in the back room 
of the Magic Box. "Man, I must have broken my personal best record for 
landing on my butt."

"And you'll still be a distant second behind my record, sis," Buffy added as 
she grabbed a small terry cloth and started to towel her face. "My first 
training session with Giles wasn't exactly a boost to my ego."

"I don't get it," Dawn commented as she grabbed her towel. "Here I am, all 
sweaty and sticky, while you're not even winded."

"That's because you did all the work," Buffy observed as she opened the 
nearby mini-fridge and pulled out two Gatorades. "That was a demonstration 
of Aikido, or what Giles calls 'the art of passive resistance'. Or as Xander 
calls it, 'the art of creative ducking'. Basically I let your momentum carry 
you as I dodged your attacks."

"In other words, let them do the grunt work," Dawn said, accepting the 
Gatorade Buffy had offered her, "and they end up looking like dorks."

"Exactly. Next week, we can start showing you some moves, and hopefully ina 
couple of months, you'll be able to handle yourself around much larger 
opponents."

"Sounds good," Dawn nodded. "Is this what you teach your classes at the 
community center?"

"That and basic self-defense," Buffy said plainly. "I'm not teaching anyone 
how to fight, just how to get out of a bad spot. In your case, I may be a 
little tougher, but that's because we both know what's out there, and I don't 
want you hurt. Okay?"

"Better than okay," Dawn agreed whole-heartedly. "But I gotta get home and 
hit the showers."

"You need a lift?"

"It's walking distance, Buffy," Dawn insisted. "I'm good."

"Okay," Buffy said. "Oh, and Dawn," she turned to her sister suddenly. "The 
first rule of slaying is?"

"Don't die!" the two sisters shouted in unison. As Buffy tossed on her blue 
hoodie, they heard the front door chime jangle. Anya, who had been 
inventorying a new shipment of wicca books, poked her head from the shelves 
to greet potential customers.

"Now, did this wolf look anything like, uh…" Willow started as she,Giles and 
Xander entered the shop, but couldn't quite finish her question.

Xander understood well enough. "Don't think it was Oz, Willow. He was too 
big for one thing, and he stood upright. Oz tended to stoop in wolf mode, if 
I remember right."

"I'm telling you, Xander," Giles tried explaining to the young man, "what 
attacked you last night was not a true werewolf."

"Maybe not a normal werewolf," Xander argued, "but all I'm saying is that, if 
it walks like a duck, quacks like a duck, and tries to bamboozle Elmer Fudd 
into shooting Bugs Bunny, I have to go with 'duck' on this one."

"Werewolf?" Dawn asked, suddenly interested.

Xander looked at Dawn quizically, then pointed over her shoulder. "There 
wolf." He then pointed to his side, adding, "There castle." Buffy, Willow 
and Giles blinked at Xander, who looked at his friends amazed. "I refuse to 
accept that I'm the only person in this room who ever saw 'Young 
Frankenstein'."

Dawn smiled suddenly, calmly saying to Xander, "That's 'Frahnk-en-steen'."

Xander grinned hugely. "I was going to make espresso!" This got Dawn 
laughing loudly, until she threw her arms into the air, shouting gleefully, 
"HE VAS MY BOYFRIEND!"

"Okay, Frau Blucher," Buffy mock-scolded her sister. "Weren't you heading 
home to hit the showers?"  

"Later guys," Dawn chirped as she ducked out the door. As the door chime 
jingled at her departure, Buffy raised an eyebrow toward her friends. "So, we 
still talking about last night's run-in?"

Buffy took her regular chair at the main table, with Xander, Willow and Anya 
close at hand. It was time to brainstorm. "Okay guys, we need ideas.  
Anyone want to start?"

Giles ducked behind his private bookshelf, emerging ten seconds later with a 
large dusty tome. He brought the book to the table, and cracked it open.  
"If we're dealing with a werewolf, he is in possession of some sort of 
powerful magic, or other assistance. Some manner of maintaining his lupine 
form at will, at any time."

"Kinda like the Gem of Ammara?" Buffy asked. The others remembered when 
Spike got his hands on the Gem, using its power to ward off the light of day.

"Maybe he's somehow learned to control the transformation," Willow offered.  
"When Oz was here last time, he said he learned how to tame the wolf from a 
Tibetan monk. Maybe this guy learned how to unleash the wolf at will."

"Or," Xander mused softly, "we're dealing with some kind of man-made 
werewolf." The others looked at him, hoping he would elaborate. "I mean 
like some sort of mutation or augmentation process, kinda like the 
Initiative's super-soldiers programs."

"All of this speculation is well and good," Giles answered as he scanned the 
tome in his hands, "but without evidence, it doesn't do us much good. I'll 
start by going over my old lore about werewolves, hopefully find some sort of 
connection to our hirsute friend from last night."

Willow pulled her ever-present laptop computer out of her gym bag and plugged 
it into a nearby phone jack. "I'll go online and see if there have been any 
werewolf attacks in or around Sunnydale recently."

Xander made for the door, saying, "I'll be back in ten with the donuts."

"And I'll man the cash-register," Anya said as Xander left. When Giles shot 
her a sardonic look, she added, "Well, someone has to at least look like 
we're making money here."

Giles smirked slightly as he observed Anya at the cash register. "I would 
advise extra caution," Giles said to Buffy as the research party commenced.  
"Until we know what we're dealing with, at any rate. If our friend is immune 
to the phases of the moon, he may also be immune to silver blades and 
bullets."

"And on that cheery note," Buffy quipped, as she stood up from her seat, "I 
have to head out. My self-defense classes drew more students than the 
community center originally thought, so I agreed to give a Saturday class for 
the next six weeks also."

"Good for you," Anya chirped from behind the cash register. "More money for 
you."

Buffy grinned at Xander's fiancée; listening to Anya talk about money,she 
started to wonder if she preferred it when she only talked about sex.  
"Later, all. If I see tall, dark and lupine tonight, I'll be on the 
defense." She waved a goodbye to her friends, and headed out to the 
community center.

<<>>

The sun was setting over Wetherly Park, and the wiser Sunnydale citizens were 
heading for their homes, before the local nightlife arose. Those who were 
still about at night had their reasons to remain out in the darkness and 
danger of a Sunnydale night.

He had his reasons.

He hated his current employer, and knew that she hated him. However, he was 
a professional merc, and her money spent just as well as anyone's. When she 
hired him to track and eliminate a woman named Buffy Summers, also known as 
the Slayer, he accepted the assignment without any qualms. A job was a job.

He hid in shadows, blending with his surroundings like the predatory mammal 
with whom he shared his name. He sniffed and listened, constantly seeking 
his prey. He knew she would be here; his quarry was predictable.

When he was hired to kill the Slayer, he started by observing her in secret.  
Given his physical appearance, spying was difficult, but he was able to watch 
her from a distance. Within a week, he was able to ascertain her habits, her 
routines; driving her sister to school, visiting a local magic shop, then her 
job at the Community Center, then home. He made his first contact with his 
prey last night, to test her, to get a feel for what she was capable of as a 
fighter. She was good; he gave her that. But he was better.  

He knew her strength, he knew her tendency to favor her right side, and he 
knew her habits. After dark, she would go on her nightly patrols. She would 
start with Whetherly Park, then move one of the local cemeteries.

His incisors itched, extending in anticipation. The sun was down, and his 
quarry would be coming soon.

And if there was one thing that Wolf prided himself on, it was the fact that 
he never left a job unfinished.

<<>>

"Hey, Buffy," Willow's voice bubbled happily over Buffy's cellular, "any 
signs of that new werewolf yet?"

"None yet," Buffy answered. "All's quiet on the Sunnydale front. How's 
Dawn?"

"We just spent ten minutes negotiating for math homework time. When I hang 
up, I'm gonna check up on her."

Buffy chuckled briefly. "Remind her that her continued self-defense classes 
depend on her maintaining her grade point average."

"Will do, Slayer," Willow answered. "Take care of yourself."

"I always do, Willow. Buffy out." Pocketing off her cel-phone, Buffy found 
herself smiling as her mind again wandered to thoughts of her Wiccan best 
friend. Her sparkling emerald eyes, her sweet smile, the soft red hair that 
practically begged for a hand to run through it…

She halted that line of thought quickly, and with no small amount of effort.  
Bad Buffy, bad, bad Buffy!

Bad, hopelessly in love with my best friend Buffy!

Buffy shook her head vigorously, forcing her increasingly heated imaginings 
out of her head. She was not going to stand between Willow and Tara, no 
matter what she felt for Willow. She had no intentions of risking the best 
thing that had ever happened to her, for a moment's lust. Willow was her 
friend, her companion, her partner in Slaying, her moral compass. That was 
enough.

It had to be.

A sudden snap of a twig behind her was all the warning she had, but it was 
enough. She spun on her left heel, her right leg kicking forward, connecting 
hard with the charging figure behind her. The beast flew backward, landing 
hard on his rump, but rolled with the impact and rose quickly to his feet.  
Buffy now saw her adversary more clearly. It was the werewolf from last 
night. He hissed his anger at Buffy, a mace clutched menacingly in his right 
hand. "Slayer," he snarled. "You still owe me a dance from last night!"

Buffy took her preferred fighting stance; legs apart, knees bent, arms loose 
and raised at her sides. "I'll lead," she announced. 

Her attacker howled, gesturing with his mace, beckoning Buffy forward.  
"Bring it on, little girl."

Buffy said nothing as she circled her opponent. He was large, strong and 
angry; he had rage and speed on his side. She paced around him, her eyes 
level and icy as she read her opponent, her arms up and in front of her, 
ready to defend herself. She waited for him to make the first move.

He obliged her, charging forward with a deafening roar, his weapon raised 
over his head. Despite his speed, Buffy was able to evade his attack with 
ease. He swung the mace wide and down swiftly, ramming it into the sidewalk 
where Buffy had stood. "Yoo hoo," Buffy cajoled in a mocking tone. "Over 
here, Shaggy!"

The wolf spun around, charging toward Buffy again. This time, Buffy stood 
her ground as the beast bared down on her. As the mace hurtled toward her, 
she dodged to her right and grabbed the wolf's arm, dragging him off his 
balance. As he started to fall forward, Buffy spun around, pinned the wolf's 
arm over her shoulder and bent forward, throwing him over her shoulder and 
onto the ground in front of her, hard.

Buffy stood over her fallen foe, watching for signs of movement. The lupine 
figure lay motionless, eyes closed, and breath shallow and steady. Confident 
that he was unconscious, Buffy pulled out her cellular, and started to dial 
Giles' number. She hoped he could help her prepare a vacant crypt, or 
garage, or somewhere to imprison the beast before he awakened.  

Turning away for the briefest of moments, she didn't see him roll onto his 
back, tuck his legs up to his chest, and suddenly thrust his legs forward.  
The impact of his heels against her chin sent her reeling, unprepared for his 
next maneuver. A clawed hand raked her cheek, blinding her with lancing 
pain. "I'd warn you to keep your guard up next time, Slayer," the beast 
growled, "but you've just run out of next times."

"Say that about yourself, Wolf!"

The voice boomed out of the night air, reverberating around the two 
combatants. Buffy glanced up, her vision still red-misted with pain from the 
cuts on her cheek. Even if her sight weren't clouded by pain she wouldn't 
have credited what she saw.

A dark shape dropped down on her attacker, bat-like wings spread wide, 
obscuring the moon overhead. The figure landed hard on the wolf, grabbed his 
arms, then tumbled forward, taking the wolf with him. The monster then threw 
the wolf against a nearby tree.

As the wolf scrambled to his feet, the monster addressed him in a roar; 
"You've lost this battle before it began, Wolf! Buffy Summers and those 
close to her are under my protection! Tell your mistress that I will 
consider any attack on them an attack on myself, and respond accordingly!"

Wolf stood up on shaky legs, his yellow eyes red-rimmed with hatred. "You 
can only protect her at night, Goliath! And the one you have pledged to 
protect needs medical attention! Your choice; chase me, or save her!" He 
turned away and ran swiftly from the monster, in a strange loping gait.

The monster then turned to Buffy, silently muttering "No choice at all, 
Wolf." Buffy blinked as the pain receded, and for the first time was able to 
see her rescuer clearly. He stood nearly seven feet tall, with a muscular 
frame covered in a leathery, dark lavender hide, covered only by a leather 
loincloth, cinched by a wide belt. His legs resembled a dog's hindquarters, 
and terminated in huge clawed feet. His wings draped over his shoulders and 
down his sides like a cloak, and a wide tail waived behind him. Long black 
hair framed a strong face, his eyes' yellow glow fading to reveal sharp blue 
irises.

He approached Buffy slowly, seeing the hesitance in her face. Withdrawing a 
pouch that hung from his belt, he said in the softest tones he possessed, "Do 
not fear, Buffy Summers. I am no enemy."

Buffy regarded the monster with cautious eyes. He opened the pouch, and took 
out a small container. "This is an antibiotic, for those cuts on your face.  
They don't look very deep, and the bleeding seems to have stopped. Wolf's 
claws are painful, but the cut doesn't look infected." Opening the 
container, he scooped a fingerful of the ointment, and looked again at Buffy. 
"Do you trust me?"

Buffy looked at the figure that stooped beside her for a moment before 
nodding once. As he applied the antibiotic to her face, Buffy said, "Okay, 
you're the first thing I've seen around the Hellmouth with wings. Who, or 
what, are you?"

"I am called Goliath."

Buffy appraised Goliath briefly, then allowed a slight smile to escape her 
face. "I can see why. So, what brings you to Sunnydale, Home of the Big 
Brewin' Evil?"

"I came to protect you," Goliath answered, as he finished applying the 
ointment. "And to warn you. A powerful enemy has come here, one who seeks 
the destruction of all humanity. What she seeks is here, near the Hellmouth. 
And she will come for you, soon."

"And you're here to help me?" Buffy asked. "Forgive me, but I don't get a lot 
of help from demons. Why do you want to help me?"

Goliath smirked slightly as he rose to his feet. "Young lady," he spoke, 
somewhat louder than before, "I am no demon, I am a Gargoyle. And a 
Gargoyle's nature is to protect." Aiding Buffy to her feet, he continued; 
"The antibiotic will allow your cuts to heal quickly, without scarring. I 
must leave soon, for I have much to do before the sunrise." He pulled a 
business card out of the pouch, and handed it gravely to Buffy. "Please meet 
me at this address tomorrow. I will explain everything then." His wings 
unfolded, spreading wide about him. He turned and bounded away at a fast 
running pace. Ten steps away, he leapt, allowing his wings to catch the 
breeze and carry him aloft.

Buffy watched the diminishing form of the soaring Gargoyle, and scratched her 
head. "You see something new everyday here, dontcha?"





"Once, years ago, I saved the life of a wise old priest. 
Grateful, he made a gift to me of these few precious words: 
If you find yourself on a cliffside, trapped, 
with a hungry tiger waiting above 
and a hungry tiger waiting below, 
and by chance you spy a single strawberry 
growing from the cliffside... 
pluck the strawberry... 
and bite into it... 
and taste it." 
--Frank Miller 
"Ronin"