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jesterladyficTitle: Grace Fills Up Uneven Nature
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Willow/Oz, Xander/Anya, slight Spike/Buffy if you squint :)
Summary: A rewrite of BTVS S4, but this time, I'm really focusing on Willow/Oz.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS. Some lines are from the show. The title is by George Hebert. This chapter's title is by Francois Fenelon
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven: Detachment from Self
Giles sighed as he wiped off the Commando positions on his board. Buffy didn’t seem interested and hadn’t even shown up for their training. He felt slightly annoyed that she didn’t seem to be taking this problem seriously. He turned back to the notes he’d taken about Oz and gave them another quick study. Something else he was useless at apparently. He certainly knew a lot more about the matter now that he’d known Oz, but he was not an expert and couldn’t help two of his young charges. It frustrated him to no end.
He would send them to Sirjani. That’s all he could do. He would call them and then…do something useful.
***
“Thanks, Giles. Tonight? Okay. We’ll let you know. Bye.”
Willow hung up the phone and turned to Oz.
“Feel up to making a little trip? Giles suggested someone for us to meet. We’ve got an appointment.”
“Road trip.”
“Pack the good tunes.”
***
Giles yawned and stretched, surprised to hear himself. He felt unnecessarily groggy. What had he done last night? He recalled going to the bar, he recalled an unpleasant surprise, being called Ripper and drinking himself into oblivion. Good thing he’d made it home in one piece.
Then he broke his bed. And looked in the mirror. And broke the mirror. And tore off his railing.
He ran off out of the house, grateful that he could at least get into his car and drive it. He closed the door too hard and the window shattered. It was going to be one of those days.
***
Oz was nervous about meeting a warlock, even one Giles had recommended. He didn’t want to communicate that worry to Willow and stayed as stoic as possible during the drive out of Sunnydale.
He’d always been good at that.
“Come in.”
The warlock was tall and broad shouldered. He must have stood six feet seven inches with unruly brown hair
and somehow indistinguishable eye color.
“Sirjani?”
“Yes, the Giles sent you. I am honored to have you in my home.”
Willow exchanged a look of amusement with Oz.
“The…Giles hoped you could help us.”
“I hope so as well. Please, sit, can I offer you anything?”
Oz wondered what refreshments he would offer. The house was dark and filled with objects that didn’t look to
be of Earth origin, or normal Earth origin anyway.
“Some water would be great.”
“Of course.” And water appeared. Sirjani laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, at their faces. “This surprises you? You are an accomplished witch, I believe?”
“Not that accomplished,” Willow stammered.
“Willow’s learning. Very talented.”
“I am sure of this. The Giles did mention it. Now, please tell for me your tale.”
Oz leaned forward.
“I have this cousin…”
***
Giles wandered through the cemetery. He’d been trying to get help all day, but it didn’t work. He didn’t want to tell Buffy and no one else could understand him. Which basically meant Xander.
He grumbled to himself, cursing Ethan Rayne in a blue streak.
“Quite the sophisticated language you’re using there. Not right for a Fyarl.”
Spike. Perfect.
“Go away, Spike. I cannot be bothered with you right now. I’ve too much else on my mind.” Giles didn’t even
slow down, knowing Spike wouldn’t understand him anyway.
“Giles?”
“You understand me?”
“Yeah! How the bloody hell did you wind up a Fyarl?”
“Is that what I am?”
“And a beaut too.”
“Don’t start. Listen, am I speaking English?”
“No, Fyarl.”
“You speak it?”
“I have had considerably more time than the rest of you to learn new languages. Might not speak Chinese, but
I’ve got several under my belt.”
“Never mind all that. I’ve got to find the man who did this to me.”
“Good luck with that.” Spike started to walk away.
“Wait.” Giles felt sick as he said it, but it was his only choice.
“What? I’ve got evil to do.”
“Help me find him. I can’t go about like this and I don’t want Buffy to see me.”
Spike started to chuckle.
“Does the Watcher need some face saving? Too bad, mate, I ain’t helping you for love or money.”
“Lots of money?”
“Lots?”
“Yes, whatever you need.”
“Too bad, don’t need money. Just sorta take what I like, yeah.”
“Spike, I fed you and kept you.”
“In chains.”
“I could’ve made it worse. No blood, a gag.”
“There was a gag.”
“Buffy did that.”
“Then make her help you.”
“I can’t let her see me like this.”
“I’m bawling for you, really, now sod off before I kill you dead.”
“Spike! I’ll have Buffy stop looking for you.”
Spike stopped in his tracks.
“Now that, I could be interested in. I’d be on my way out of this town if I didn’t want to see vengeance on those
commando gits. Can’t have the blonde wonder on my back all the time.”
“I’ll do my best, I promise you.”
“Fine, whatever.” Spike shrugged, as if he’d been bored anyway.
“What now?”
“Find your bloke.”
“Ethan Rayne.”
“The Halloween costume one? Oh, I gotta meet him.”
“This is not an evil networking meeting, Spike. I will crush him!”
“That sounds more like a Fyarl. Let’s go.”
***
Ethan didn’t stand a chance by the time Spike and Giles caught up with him. Spike was a bit disappointed in the cowardly man. Someone who’d come up with that turning people into their costumes thing must be inspired, but clearly only for the planning. But he still had to laugh when Giles was reduced to wearing a rather loud shirt out of the other man’s wardrobe.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’m calling the Council.”
Ethan blanched and Spike didn’t blame him.
“Now, Ripper.”
“No mercy, Ethan.”
“Cheers then.” Spike prepared to walk out.
“Spike.”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever. Just keep your Slayer off my back.”
“My best, I assure you.”
“Probably not good enough,” Spike muttered, dodging a group of Initiative soldiers on the way back to where he
was staying.
***
“But what a fantastic story. How far you have come. How far you have to go.”
“That’s not really encouraging,” Willow said.
Sirjani grinned and leaned forward.
“I do not mean to discourage. What I mean is to praise. This is a hard thing and that is not small.”
“You confuse me,” Oz said.
“I will help you if I can. That is what you should take away from my confusing words.”
“Okay, so what can we do?”
“Let us do some tests. That is a sad face, but do not worry, the tests are for me.” Sirjani closed his eyes and
leaned forward, putting one hand on Oz’s shoulder.
Oz shuddered slightly and Willow felt magic stirring in the air. It was very hard for her to wait, but she could feel
Sirjani reaching out to her and calming her with his mind even while doing whatever he was doing with Oz. That was
amazing power.
“Now,” he said suddenly, opening his eyes and startling them both, “combined with my knowledge and my new
discoveries, I know one thing. I cannot help you.”
“What?” Willow had thought for sure he would be able to.
“Now, I do not say completely. I can help with meditation techniques and with the glorious and bloody history of
the werewolf. All the lupine community or lack thereof. It will bring you comfort, I believe.”
“So, you can’t cure him?”
Oz looked with some discomfort at Willow and then back to Sirjani.
“Ah, my little friend, you know there is no cure. Do not allow your desperation to cloud your knowledge or give
you false hope.”
“But there’s too much…”
“Yes, I know. And I do offer you one way I have heard. In Tibet, there is a monastery where the monks have
grown deep in learning. The meditation and skill there is quite extraordinary. They have delved into herb lore and
every lore you can imagine. I do not believe there is any hope for a cure, though perhaps that is something that can
be more than it seems. Yes, I think so.”
“Tibet, huh? I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“That’s too far,” Willow objected.
Oz turned to her and was silent.
Sirjani hesitated.
“I will help you to know who you are and the best methods of control if that is what you wish.”
“What do we wish?” Oz wondered out loud.
by Jesterlady
Rating: PG-13
Pairing: Willow/Oz, Xander/Anya, slight Spike/Buffy if you squint :)
Summary: A rewrite of BTVS S4, but this time, I'm really focusing on Willow/Oz.
Disclaimer: I don't own BTVS. Some lines are from the show. The title is by George Hebert. This chapter's title is by Francois Fenelon
Chapter One
Chapter Two
Chapter Three
Chapter Four
Chapter Five
Chapter Six
Chapter Seven: Detachment from Self
Giles sighed as he wiped off the Commando positions on his board. Buffy didn’t seem interested and hadn’t even shown up for their training. He felt slightly annoyed that she didn’t seem to be taking this problem seriously. He turned back to the notes he’d taken about Oz and gave them another quick study. Something else he was useless at apparently. He certainly knew a lot more about the matter now that he’d known Oz, but he was not an expert and couldn’t help two of his young charges. It frustrated him to no end.
He would send them to Sirjani. That’s all he could do. He would call them and then…do something useful.
***
“Thanks, Giles. Tonight? Okay. We’ll let you know. Bye.”
Willow hung up the phone and turned to Oz.
“Feel up to making a little trip? Giles suggested someone for us to meet. We’ve got an appointment.”
“Road trip.”
“Pack the good tunes.”
***
Giles yawned and stretched, surprised to hear himself. He felt unnecessarily groggy. What had he done last night? He recalled going to the bar, he recalled an unpleasant surprise, being called Ripper and drinking himself into oblivion. Good thing he’d made it home in one piece.
Then he broke his bed. And looked in the mirror. And broke the mirror. And tore off his railing.
He ran off out of the house, grateful that he could at least get into his car and drive it. He closed the door too hard and the window shattered. It was going to be one of those days.
***
Oz was nervous about meeting a warlock, even one Giles had recommended. He didn’t want to communicate that worry to Willow and stayed as stoic as possible during the drive out of Sunnydale.
He’d always been good at that.
“Come in.”
The warlock was tall and broad shouldered. He must have stood six feet seven inches with unruly brown hair
and somehow indistinguishable eye color.
“Sirjani?”
“Yes, the Giles sent you. I am honored to have you in my home.”
Willow exchanged a look of amusement with Oz.
“The…Giles hoped you could help us.”
“I hope so as well. Please, sit, can I offer you anything?”
Oz wondered what refreshments he would offer. The house was dark and filled with objects that didn’t look to
be of Earth origin, or normal Earth origin anyway.
“Some water would be great.”
“Of course.” And water appeared. Sirjani laughed, a deep, rumbling sound, at their faces. “This surprises you? You are an accomplished witch, I believe?”
“Not that accomplished,” Willow stammered.
“Willow’s learning. Very talented.”
“I am sure of this. The Giles did mention it. Now, please tell for me your tale.”
Oz leaned forward.
“I have this cousin…”
***
Giles wandered through the cemetery. He’d been trying to get help all day, but it didn’t work. He didn’t want to tell Buffy and no one else could understand him. Which basically meant Xander.
He grumbled to himself, cursing Ethan Rayne in a blue streak.
“Quite the sophisticated language you’re using there. Not right for a Fyarl.”
Spike. Perfect.
“Go away, Spike. I cannot be bothered with you right now. I’ve too much else on my mind.” Giles didn’t even
slow down, knowing Spike wouldn’t understand him anyway.
“Giles?”
“You understand me?”
“Yeah! How the bloody hell did you wind up a Fyarl?”
“Is that what I am?”
“And a beaut too.”
“Don’t start. Listen, am I speaking English?”
“No, Fyarl.”
“You speak it?”
“I have had considerably more time than the rest of you to learn new languages. Might not speak Chinese, but
I’ve got several under my belt.”
“Never mind all that. I’ve got to find the man who did this to me.”
“Good luck with that.” Spike started to walk away.
“Wait.” Giles felt sick as he said it, but it was his only choice.
“What? I’ve got evil to do.”
“Help me find him. I can’t go about like this and I don’t want Buffy to see me.”
Spike started to chuckle.
“Does the Watcher need some face saving? Too bad, mate, I ain’t helping you for love or money.”
“Lots of money?”
“Lots?”
“Yes, whatever you need.”
“Too bad, don’t need money. Just sorta take what I like, yeah.”
“Spike, I fed you and kept you.”
“In chains.”
“I could’ve made it worse. No blood, a gag.”
“There was a gag.”
“Buffy did that.”
“Then make her help you.”
“I can’t let her see me like this.”
“I’m bawling for you, really, now sod off before I kill you dead.”
“Spike! I’ll have Buffy stop looking for you.”
Spike stopped in his tracks.
“Now that, I could be interested in. I’d be on my way out of this town if I didn’t want to see vengeance on those
commando gits. Can’t have the blonde wonder on my back all the time.”
“I’ll do my best, I promise you.”
“Fine, whatever.” Spike shrugged, as if he’d been bored anyway.
“What now?”
“Find your bloke.”
“Ethan Rayne.”
“The Halloween costume one? Oh, I gotta meet him.”
“This is not an evil networking meeting, Spike. I will crush him!”
“That sounds more like a Fyarl. Let’s go.”
***
Ethan didn’t stand a chance by the time Spike and Giles caught up with him. Spike was a bit disappointed in the cowardly man. Someone who’d come up with that turning people into their costumes thing must be inspired, but clearly only for the planning. But he still had to laugh when Giles was reduced to wearing a rather loud shirt out of the other man’s wardrobe.
“What are you going to do with him?”
“I’m calling the Council.”
Ethan blanched and Spike didn’t blame him.
“Now, Ripper.”
“No mercy, Ethan.”
“Cheers then.” Spike prepared to walk out.
“Spike.”
“What?”
“Thank you.”
“Whatever. Just keep your Slayer off my back.”
“My best, I assure you.”
“Probably not good enough,” Spike muttered, dodging a group of Initiative soldiers on the way back to where he
was staying.
***
“But what a fantastic story. How far you have come. How far you have to go.”
“That’s not really encouraging,” Willow said.
Sirjani grinned and leaned forward.
“I do not mean to discourage. What I mean is to praise. This is a hard thing and that is not small.”
“You confuse me,” Oz said.
“I will help you if I can. That is what you should take away from my confusing words.”
“Okay, so what can we do?”
“Let us do some tests. That is a sad face, but do not worry, the tests are for me.” Sirjani closed his eyes and
leaned forward, putting one hand on Oz’s shoulder.
Oz shuddered slightly and Willow felt magic stirring in the air. It was very hard for her to wait, but she could feel
Sirjani reaching out to her and calming her with his mind even while doing whatever he was doing with Oz. That was
amazing power.
“Now,” he said suddenly, opening his eyes and startling them both, “combined with my knowledge and my new
discoveries, I know one thing. I cannot help you.”
“What?” Willow had thought for sure he would be able to.
“Now, I do not say completely. I can help with meditation techniques and with the glorious and bloody history of
the werewolf. All the lupine community or lack thereof. It will bring you comfort, I believe.”
“So, you can’t cure him?”
Oz looked with some discomfort at Willow and then back to Sirjani.
“Ah, my little friend, you know there is no cure. Do not allow your desperation to cloud your knowledge or give
you false hope.”
“But there’s too much…”
“Yes, I know. And I do offer you one way I have heard. In Tibet, there is a monastery where the monks have
grown deep in learning. The meditation and skill there is quite extraordinary. They have delved into herb lore and
every lore you can imagine. I do not believe there is any hope for a cure, though perhaps that is something that can
be more than it seems. Yes, I think so.”
“Tibet, huh? I’ve always wanted to travel.”
“That’s too far,” Willow objected.
Oz turned to her and was silent.
Sirjani hesitated.
“I will help you to know who you are and the best methods of control if that is what you wish.”
“What do we wish?” Oz wondered out loud.
