Where Remus Is A Voyeur And Buffy Is Not Named
Remus attempted to suppress the urge to howl at the full moon and failed- miserably.
Despite his previous convictions that’d it be the best to remain locked up tight in his hotel room while he was in his werewolf form, he was currently frolicking through Sunnydale Cemetery with a wolfish grin on his face. The negatives of his disease were overwhelming, but over the years he had reluctantly come to realize by now that it was merely a part of who he was- a part that was enjoying stretching its legs in the cool night air.
He tried to rationalize his evening out. It was just so he could attempt to nose out some information he wouldn’t be able to get in human form, he told himself. It had nothing to do with the fact that despite the Wolfsbane potion he had imbibed, the forces of the hellmouth was making controlling his more primal side increasingly difficult. At least the logical part of his brain had directed his furry limbs towards the cemetery where he was less likely to run into anybody.
Somehow he doubted muggles would be anymore sympathetic to his condition then his fellow wizards.
His entire body stopped still as a unique scent reached his sensitive nose. He lifted his head into the air, allowing his heightened senses to sort through the different smells, seperating the ones he might expect of a graveyard- fresh dirt, decaying flesh, wilted flowers- from the new one that seemed out of place. Though he wasn't able to identify it immediately, the smell stirred odd feelings in his animalistic half. He had the vague urge to fight, flee, and hump somebody’s leg all at the same time.
Curiosity overriding the conflicting impulses, he followed the scent through a maze of graves, stopping every few paces to lift his snout and catch the trail again. At the end of his search, he found a small woman with golden hair holding her own against several fanged opponents. It took only a moment of watching to determine that the situation didn't require his intervention, and he backtracked quickly to observe from out of sight.
Despite her petite stature, she spun gracefully on one heel to develop a powerful kick to one of her foes sending him flying. She cracked her neck a little before turning to another one advancing on her. A strong blow to his face had the duel effect of producing a sickening cracking sound and a sadistic grin to her face. The fight continued, the vampires outnumbering the young woman, and yet it was clear that the odds were still in her favor. She was graceful and skilled, utilizing moves that had been in existence for thousands of years.
The DADA teacher in him was captivated, finally recognizing her as the current in a long chain of Vampire Slayers. He had never had the opportunity to meet one, though he had studied them quite thoroughly while still a student, and included them in his curriculum during his brief stint at teaching. He knew enough to have expected the beast within him to be affected by her presence, but the mixed signals her scent was causing had caught him off guard. He backed up quietly to hide in the shadows, unable to deny himself the experience of watching her do what she was created to do.
Even as his eyes were trained on her fluid movements, his mind warred with the consequences of his discovery. Despite the intellectual thrill she provided, he was here for a purpose. Granted, the exact nature of his purpose eluded him, but he knew his primary function was to help. His studies told him that Vampire Slayer’s concern themselves with eradicating all evil, not solely vampires. In that thread, she would more then likely already be aware of the impending doom. In fact, she might even have some information he didn’t, and he surely had connections not available to her. The entire logical portion of his brain screamed that the smartest, most effective solution would be to tell her all he knew and propose they join forces. However, the logical portion of his brain wasn’t in control at the moment
What was in control had quite a different opinion. They both agreed she fought more then just vampires. The question it had, was whether or not werewolves were on that list. As the answer to that was uncertain, the idea to seek her help was quickly vetoed. His condition provided him sufficient reason to not be fond of putting his life in the hands of someone with the name ‘slayer’ in her title. He watched her dust the remaining vampires before turning to leave. He wasn’t about to stick around and let her catch sight of him.
A little pin prick should have alerted him to the fact that he wasn’t all that successful, before everything went out of focus.