Oz was forty-five minutes late for school.

It didn't matter anymore; the teachers had long since ceased taking attendance, assuming, rather, that if students were late, they were dead.

And, more often than not, that was the case.

He wished he could have driven the van, but for some dumb ass reason, students weren't allowed to have vehicles on campus.

He often wondered if more kids would be alive if they could've driven home instead of having to walk.

Rumor had it that Cordelia Chase, the most recent disappearance, had died that way. Her family lived in a once-ritzy neighborhood on the outskirts of town, a good two hour plus walk, more if she were wearing a pair of her typical three-inch heels.

And her route home would have taken her near the Bronze, the old nightclub that served as the headquarters of the vampires infesting Sunnydale.

Left to her own devices, Cordelia was next to helpless and would be easy pickings for any vampire with half a brain.

Oz hoped Cordelia had died quickly; the strain of killing demons that wore the faces of his friends and classmates and their parents was getting old.

Real old.

He didn't want to have to kill another friend.

Already too late to show up for homeroom, Oz headed for the library. The halls were eerily quiet, only an occasional murmur reaching his ears from behind closed classroom doors. At last count, only 157 students in four grades still attended Sunnydale High.

Four years ago, his class alone was over three hundred strong.

Fucking vampire parasites.

The library was empty.

"Giles? Hey, Giles, man, you here?" he called out.

No answer greeted him and Oz felt the beginnings of fear tickle the back of his conscience. Dropping his backpack on the table, he walked into the ex-Watcher's office. It, too, was empty, but Oz breathed a sigh of relief when he noticed the still-steaming teapot on the credenza.

Giles had been here and recently.

"Excuse me, young man."

With a startled gasp, Oz spun at the sound of the unfamiliar voice behind him. With practiced ease, he slipped a wooden stake out of his jacket pocket, although he knew, rationally, that no vampire walked in daylight.

The portly man standing behind him took a wary step back when he saw the weapon in the boy's hand. He held up a cautioning hand. "Hold on, please! I-I'm here to see Rupert Giles."

"Who the hell are you?" the red-haired boy asked, not lowering the stake. Of course, there were demons that walked at day.

The man smiled, his breath smelling faintly soured from too much drink. He held out his hand, but dropped it when Oz simply stared at him.

"Merrick. Richard Merrick, Buffy Summers' guardian."

"Hey, Oz-man, what's up?" Larry asked as he joined Oz an hour later. The beefy former football player took a seat opposite the other young man, swinging his feet up onto the research table.

Oz had spent the better part of the past hour watching Giles and Merrick argue heatedly behind the glass door of the librarian's office. On more than one occasion, the argument had escalated to the point that he wondered if the two men would come to blows. He couldn't hear everything that was being said, but the random word filtered out to him.

Buffy.

Hellmouth.

Immoral.

And, strangely enough, molester.

Molester.

Several clues were slowly clicking into place, gleaned from observation and a fair amount of eavesdropping. Buffy's reluctance to talk about her life in Cleveland, her excruciating lack of pride in herself, her refusal to loosen up.

It was all beginning to make the kind of sense that was wrong.

"Who's that?" Larry asked as he watched Giles turn away from the other man, his handsome face set in grim lines.

"Buffy's Watcher."

"No shit? You suppose he's here to take her home?"

Oz shrugged. "I hope not. He's an asshole, major. She's better off here, with people who care for her."

Larry smirked. "Yeah, I'd like to care for her, if she'd relax a minute."

"Don't talk about Buffy that way, she's okay."

"For an ice princess, I guess. Frigid as the Antarctic, my friend," Larry said.

"Besides, you don't want to have to cross Angel to get to her, do you? He'd rip you a new one if you laid so much as a finger on her," Oz replied, thinking about the vampire and his near-obsessive attachment to the Slayer.

"Whatever. She'd be hot if she'd dress up once in a while. No Harmony Kendall, but still a looker."

Oz snorted. "Harmony's a ditz. Girl wouldn't know a demon if it came up and smacked her with a rolled-up newspaper. At least Buffy's smart. She's just been hurt."

Before Larry could reply, the office door opened and the two men exited, Merrick first with a thoroughly disgusted Giles following.

"Don’t either of you have a class to attend?" Giles asked as he removed his glasses, wearily cleaning them with a handkerchief.

"Yeah. I'm blowin' it off," Larry said. "No one cares and anyway, the rumor's going around again that the school's closing for good."

Giles glanced up. "Where'd you hear that?"

"Here and there. It spreads around school every couple of months or so," Oz answered. "They might as well; pretty soon, there won't be enough students left to fill a classroom."

The librarian turned to the other Watcher. "See? This town is under siege and it won’t last much longer, if you take Buffy away from here."

Merrick folded his arms and glared at Giles, unimpressed. "Then it won't matter. I'm taking her home with me. Today."

The man's pompous words set Oz's teeth on edge. He sat up and fixed the man with a steely frown. "I think Buffy might have a problem with that. Don't you think you should ask her what she wants to do?"

Merrick laughed mirthlessly. "Buffy Summers is my responsibility, to raise as I see fit. She hasn't a choice in the matter. Furthermore, she's needed in Cleveland."

Giles snorted in disgust.

"I can only begin to imagine for what," Oz said, his hatred for the man growing exponentially.

Merrick's oily smile faded, to be replaced by a glimmer of rage deep in his close-set eyes. "I'll thank you to mind your own business, young man. This doesn't concern you."

Oz stood up. Although shorter than Merrick by a good five inches and outweighed by at least a hundred pounds, the smaller boy had faced down scarier things than this self-absorbed pervert. "It does when it concerns a good friend."

"Oz, please. . . " Giles said. "May I remind you, Merrick, you are no longer Buffy's Watcher. The Council has seen to it."

"Is that so?"

Giles wanted to strangle the arrogant ass; Merrick was looking at him with utter defiance, as if taunting the smaller man to touch him. "The Buffy Summers that came to Sunnydale four months ago is not the same girl you've been mistreating. . . "

"Mistreating? That's rich, Rupert, old man! She's really suckered you in with her poor little virgin act!" Merrick leaned forward, a knowing smile twisting his lips. "She's little better than an alleycat, lifting her tail for any man that. . . "

With a snarl of rage, Giles grabbed Merrick's shirtfront, his fist slamming with stunning speed into the man's nose. Blood spurted from the Watcher's nostrils, splattering Giles' hands and gushing over his chin.

Larry leaped to his feet and grabbed Giles before he could inflict any more damage on the other man. Oz stepped between the two men, his angry gaze shifting to Merrick. The Watcher had both hands cupped over his bruised nose, moaning in pain.

"It would probably be the better part of valor to remove yourself from Sunnydale," the boy said calmly despite the violent trembling in his stomach.

"How dare you! This is an a-absolute outrage!" Merrick sputtered in fury. "You find that little whore and tell her she's coming home!"

He straightened up and pulled a handkerchief from his pocket, pressing it to his nose. He faced Giles with a deadly gleam in his tiny eyes. "That bitch is mine. MINE! Don't interfere again!"

As Merrick turned to stalk out of the library, the doors swung open and Buffy walked in. She stumbled to a halt when she saw Merrick and paled. Oz took a step towards her, thinking she might pass out.

She looked horrified and the red-haired boy wondered if it was from fear or shock at seeing her Watcher covered with blood.

"M-m-merrick. . . I-I. . . when did you. . . ?" she whispered, her eyes quickly finding Giles', begging for understanding.

"Mr. Merrick was just leaving, Buffy. You have nothing to worry about," Giles answered, his eyes reassuring her.

The Slayer looked from Giles to Merrick and her former Watcher smiled coldly, an action made even more grotesque by the blood staining his lower face. She blinked hard, trying to keep the tears that welled up from spilling over. "Why d-did you c-come here?" she asked, her voice uncharacteristically timid.

"I need you at home, young lady. Where you belong." The tone of his voice left no doubt in anyone's mind just exactly where Merrick wanted her. He sidled up to her, reaching out to touch her shoulder, bared by her sleeveless tank top. Buffy flinched at his unwanted touch.

She looked good. No, not good, fabulous. Gone was the pallor and pinched look of hunger. Merrick's lustful gaze took in Buffy's healthy complexion, rosy from the Southern California sun; her long hair, falling in loose waves nearly to her waist, was sun-streaked, platinum and gold strands caressing her creamy skin.

But, what he enjoyed most was the fear and surrender emanating from her. It screamed from her bowed head, slumped shoulders, her tremulous pout.

Looking at those lips, at the scar he had inflicted himself, imagining all of the sinful things he could make those lips do, made Merrick quiver in barely suppressed desire.

When he got Buffy back to Cleveland, he'd show her just how much of a slut she really was.

He'd make her beg for his forgiveness, for hiding from him.

"I'd advise you to remove yourself from the premises," Giles said, not missing the fear in Buffy's eyes. "I will call for the police."

Merrick whirled on him, his hand falling to grasp Buffy's upper arm. His thick fingers dug deep into her flesh and she winced in pain. "SHUT UP, you stupid British faggot! She's not your problem!"

Giles stared at him in despair. "How in the bloody hell did you ever become a Watcher? It is your sworn duty to protect and care for the Slayer's interests! Not rape her when she's grieving for her murdered parents!"

Larry and Oz exchanged a look of horror at the revelation and Buffy flushed magenta with shame.

"Rape? Rape? You are joking, I'm sure! She told you that?" Merrick hauled Buffy forward, reaching out with the other hand to grasp a handful of her hair. "Are those the lies you're spreading, you sneaky cunt? You spread your legs for me! You wanted it!" Larry took a step forward, prepared to beat the hell out of the much larger man, but Giles shook his head and slipped away to his office.

Buffy's tears fell in torrents now, as she reached up, trying to unlock his fingers from their brutal grip. "No! That's n-not true! Y-you f-f-forced me to. . . to do those horrible things!" she cried.

Merrick slapped her viciously, his hold on her hair keeping her head from snapping back. He raised his hand to hit her again when he found himself looking down the barrel of a loaded crossbow.

Giles' pale eyes glinted dangerously over the deadly weapon, the promise of murder in their normally-placid depths. "Let. Her. Go." he whispered.

Unlacing his fingers from her hair, the Watcher let Buffy go. The Slayer crumpled to the floor, her tiny shoulders shaking. "Rupert, you have no idea what you're doing. . . " Merrick started to say, but trailed off when the crossbow moved a fraction closer to his face.

"You're going to leave Sunnydale, now, and you will never step foot near this town or this girl for as long as you live. . . "

Merrick started to protest, taking a menacing step towards Buffy, who scrambled away on her hands and knees, staying out of his reach. Oz knelt down by the Slayer as Larry blocked Merrick's movement.

Giles continued, unfazed. ". . . and if I should ever see your face again, ever, I will kill you. I will strike you down where you stand and feed your carcass to the sharks."

"You have no right! I am her Watcher!"

"Not anymore. Are we clear?"

Merrick snarled in fury and Giles pressed the sharp tip of the crossbow into the hollow of his throat. "Are. . .we. . . clear?"

The silence in the library was so complete, Oz could distinctly hear Buffy's heart hammering in her chest. He glanced at the pretty Slayer and saw that she was watching the confrontation in amazement, staring at Giles with adoration. Oz smiled softly and slipped his arm around her shoulders. Buffy blushed and let him help her to her feet.

Merrick blinked. The depth of their devotion to the whore was astounding. He had never had anything but contempt for the little girl, since the day he approached her outside of Hemery High School and she proceeded to babble about stolen lipsticks and lack of destiny. Her brainless chatter, so typical of American teenagers, had worn thin and by the time her socialite parents had been murdered by vampires, he had been eager to punish her for ruining his life.

And, from that moment forward, Merrick had wished every day would be her last and he would be released from this prison.

Except Merrick never gave up anything that belonged to him and Buffy Summers belonged to him, body and soul. If it took him until the end of time, he would make her pay for humiliating him.

Lifting his hands in surrender, Merrick backed away, hampered by Larry's grip on his arms. "Let me go, you overfed farm boy!" he snapped. Larry smirked, but let him go at Giles' nod.

"You're welcome to her. I've been trying to get rid of the bitch since the day I met her." Dabbing at his still-leaking nose with the handkerchief, Merrick spun on his heel and walked to the double swinging doors. He paused and looked back at Buffy. He smiled maliciously.

"She's a bad fuck, gentlemen. Don't waste your time on her unless you get off on doing it with a corpse."

With that final parting jab, Merrick stormed out.

Buffy took a deep shaky breath and when she released it, the dam inside her burst and she sobbed. Thrusting the crossbow into Oz's hands, Giles gathered the tiny girl in his arms, rocking her soothingly.

Giving herself up to his fatherly embrace, Buffy wept bitterly.