See previous chapters.Time line:
Post-Chosen (by 5 years). Ignoring comics. Angel, it's complicated - Wesley is alive, Illyria is present, Connor has his real memories, Spike is corporal, Harmony is around, I just don't know if they are still at Wolfram and Hart or not.A/N:
Is that romance that's starting to bloom?Chapter 6:
Buffy eventually managed to get back to sleep after her conversation with Oz, which was kind of weird since he actually talked. She had never figured Oz knew so many words. Or rather that he could use so many words.
Over the next couple of days, she found herself more aware of Oz, not in a creepy sense, but she just seemed to know if he was nearby. And that was exceedingly creepy.
The night after their conversation in the kitchen, she had the same dream, only it seemed to have more detail. She woke up after a certain point, and after lying on her back for a few minutes remembered one of the many things Oz actually said the night before. Looking out her window, she found his statement about the full moon to be true. But then she really should have taken his word.
With a slight smile, she pulled on her robe and slipped her feet into her fuzzy blue slippers before padding down the stairs. She didn’t want to be too quiet; sneaking up on an antsy werewolf during the full moon was a recipe for disaster. But, being a slayer, she had trouble making noise, and she didn’t want to wake Dawn.
She found Oz, lying on the couch, an arm thrown over his eyes, and one of his legs lightly tapping the floor. Still not sure if he knew she was there, Buffy tried to figure out a way to enter the room without startling him when he nearly gave her a heart attack.
“You can sit down; I’m not going to kill you.” He informed her almost as if he weren’t even speaking.
“Thanks for the reassurance, it’s just that I didn’t want to startle you and I couldn’t sleep again.” She explained as she took a seat on the couch where Oz’s legs had been.
“Same.” He muttered, almost as if he were frustrated with something.
Buffy didn’t want to ask about his tone, seeing as it might be something Oz didn’t want to talk about, but also because of the whole ‘don’t piss off the agitated werewolf’ policy. Still not entirely sure what to make of Oz’s frustration, she sat next to her house guest in silence.
Oz watched her, Buffy knew that not because she could see him watching her, or feel his gaze. No she just knew that he was watching her, just like she had known all day where he was in relation to her position. Very creepy.
“Something on your mind?” He finally asked.
Surprised by the question, Buffy turned to face him, “No, why?”
She thought she caught the ghost of a smile before Oz replied, “Just a feeling.”
“Right, and that’s not weird at all.” She commented dryly and with a weak laugh. “But no, not really at least. I’ve just been having this weird dream over and over again and, I don’t know ...” She explained to him lamely.
She looked over to find him nodding, “Believe me, I know.” He finally muttered.
They remained sitting in silence for several more minutes. But Buffy hardly noticed; she was too busy trying to figure out what seemed to have Oz so distracted. Not that she had expected much in the way of conversation with him.
Her thoughts remained on her confusing house guest until she felt a hand on her knee, “You’re agitated.”
She looked up at him distracted by the warmth she felt spread from his hand over her body that his touch caused. “Hmm, what was that?” She finally asked after having to mentally shake herself.
“You’re agitated, and not to be rude, but it’s not helping too much on this side.” He told her, furrowing his brow as he said it.
“Oh my God, I am so sorry. Was I projecting or something?”
She caught the slightest ghost of a smile as he shook his head, “No, but I could feel it.”
“Again with the creepy,” She muttered. Louder she said, “Maybe you should talk to Giles about it.”
“It’s probably just the full moon, and I haven’t changed in nearly four months.”
“Is that bad?”
“Think of a soda can, shake it too long ...” He mimed the explosion with his hands, “Can’t keep the wolf in forever.”
“Oh,” She mumbled trying to understand everything that Oz was saying. And again that he was actually talking.
With the same ghost of a smile, he asked, “You have no idea what I’m saying, do you?”
“No, I think I get it, it’s just not something I thought about.”
“So it’ll take a while to understand.” Oz said nonchalantly.
Buffy turned to glare at him, realizing that he had just made a joke; and one about her intelligence. “Oh this is war, buster.” She informed him with a mock glare as she moved to tackle him against the arm of the couch.
Oz defended himself well enough, but Buffy still managed to corner him against the arm. She had him pinned; her hands on his shoulders keeping him down, but the look of cool seriousness on his face troubled her. Before she had much time to think about it, he started tickling her sides. Shrieking in surprise and laughter she was suddenly on her own back against the opposite arm of the couch. Trying to get away from the older werewolf, she rolled to one side only to bump her nose against the back of the couch. Rolling again, she fell onto the floor with a thud and an ‘ouch.’
Raising an arm over her head as she pushed her face out of the floor with the other, she informed her enemy combatant, “I’m okay.”
Oz helped her back onto the couch and they returned to sitting in silence, well they sat not saying anything because they were too busy laughing and then trying to find their breath. Once they were both settled, silence filled the room.
“So the whole soda analogy, how long do you think you have before you, I don’t know ... explode?” Buffy finally asked breaking the slightly awkward silence.
Oz shrugged in response. Buffy guessed he had used up his quota of words for the time being.
Nodding unsure of what else to say, she returned to the awkward silence. She tried to find something that might start another conversation, because despite Oz’s seeming dislike for talking, she enjoyed their conversations. He was easy to talk to.
“The door to the basement is reinforced steel, and the lock is on the outside, so if you want you can change tomorrow night down there.” She finally suggested.
Oz turned to look at her, confusion clearly written across his face.
“Long story, but it involves demon interrogation.” She answered in response to his unasked question. He nodded in response, “I’ll let you think about it, but the offer is always open.”
The silence returned and Buffy began fidgeting, trying to think of something to say to break it. She didn’t know why she was so antsy or against the silence, but she wanted something to say.
“How are you enjoying the place so far?” She asked him, turning to face him completely, her legs folded beneath her Indian style.
Oz sighed before answering, “It’s good, I haven’t had to do anything strenuous beyond a few grocery runs.”
“Hey, you need to earn your keep if you want to stay in this house.” She said defending herself.
“It’s fine.” He informed her, “I had a couple of scares the first few days I was here, but nothing too bad since.”
“I apologized both times, even though it wasn’t my fault.” Buffy cried indignantly.
“Close the door.” Oz informed her simply.
Buffy shook her head before fixing him with a serious look and asking, “How did Graham get you to come here? I mean, we’ve asked and invited several times, and then Graham finds you and suddenly you decide to come visit. What did he say?”
Oz shrugged before asking, “What makes you think it wasn’t my decision?”
“So you just decided after seeing an old SunnyHell face, one you hardly even knew, that you wanted to come down here?” Buffy asked not believing him.
Again Oz shrugged, “Maybe.”
“Still not buying it.”
“Still not selling anything.”
Buffy glared at him as she lightly hit his arm. Ten seconds later, Oz had her again pinned against the arm of the couch while tickling her.
Both were completely unaware of the fact that they had a blurry eyed audience that was dialing a number on her cell phone. When the other line was answered in a groggy, sleep evident tone, Dawn informed one of her co-conspirators, “its working.”
Willow, still half asleep asked, “What’s working?”
Rolling her eyes at the red head’s question, elaborated, “The spell, its working.”
Willow was suddenly very awake, “It is, already? Did you put too much of the potion into their food?”
Hurt at the accusation, Dawn hotly replied, “No I did not, besides, Sam was the one putting it on their food.”
“Oh, then maybe you miscalculated the ingredients.”
“Either way, it’s working. I just thought you would like to know.” Dawn stated frustrated with the accusations.
“Even though it was at five in the morning, I appreciate it. Now go back to bed Dawn.” Willow informed her friend.
The brunette sighed, “I wish I could, but Buffy and Oz are having a tickle fight, that oh, yeah, just became a pillow fight.”
“Silencing spell. Night.” Willow suggested before hanging up.