August 11 - Sometimes You Wonder
Title: Sometimes You Wonder
Series: Pack a Smile
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: Mercy Thompson Series
Character(s): Oz, Charles Cornick, Buffy
Rating: PG
Summary: Oz feels better. Charles and Buffy have words. Start to have words.
Length: ~1440 words
Disclaimer: Only the words are mine, and that’s probably up for philosophical debate. Half my headcanon for the fusion version of this verse comes from kerrykhat, akat and avamclean.
Notes: This may have gone sideways? Anyway, the series has a name now.
Oz felt the lock on his motel room door slip when he tried it. It was a slam lock. Willow and Buffy had one on their dorm room. A toggle in the lock itself kept the door locked to the outside, but allowed it to be open from within, no keys necessary.
The door had been locked, but not against him. The warm sense of protection that had let Oz relax into sleep hours ago, riding in the rental car with Charles, rolled over him again. Oz pressed a hand over his chest and took a deep breath. Traveling to music festivals with the Dingoes and on his own, he'd experienced his fair share of really grotty port-a-potties. That moment when you stepped out of the port-a-potty and away from the equally rank lines of people waiting their turn, and took a deep breath of clean air was almost indescribable. Oz felt like that. Except he'd been in a fetid hole for months instead of minutes. It felt like the first clean breath after being stuck in a fetid hole. He took another and smiled. They were in the mountains of Montana. This probably was the first clean breath he'd had in months, maybe years.
A mean little voice in the back of his, curiously husky and female, told him that it wouldn't last. That he'd have to pay for killing Veruca.
Oz went the five steps forward it took to clear the little concrete sidewalk that circled the motel and sat down. He was going to leave that voice behind unless or until it was something he had to deal with. In the meantime...he was really, really naked. And locked out of his room.
Oz rested his forehead against one of his raised knees and laughed.
***
Years ago, Charles had been in New York City on a business trip for the pack. He and Nicolaas, the New Amsterdam pack alpha, and his second had decided to walk from their offices in the West 30s down to Little Italy. The break had been more than welcome, and the leisurely walk through the surprisingly quiescent city had been good for all of them.
Nicolaas and his second had kept up an steady conversation that was open to Charles but didn't require his participation, which he had appreciated. He would have preferred less talking if not for the empty streets. Nicolaas hadn't been as old a lobo as many of the alphas with packs his size but he had been, and still was, a thoughtful and insightful man.
Little Italy had been about as crowded with shops as Charles remembered, but the people traffic was still unusually low. It had been cleaner, too. And he’d still stuck out like a sore thumb.
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable going in there, even if it wasn’t a private club.”
The high-pitched words had pulled Charles from his reminiscence. Waiting for a light to turn, the three wolves had stopped behind a brown-skinned woman and her darker-skinned daughter. The daughter had spoken.
“If I only went places where I didn’t stick out, I wouldn’t go anywhere,” the mother had said, looking down at her daughter. The girl had shrugged. The light changed. The women had gone their way and Charles and the New Amsterdam wolves had gone theirs, but the truth of the older woman’s words had stuck.
Standing on the campus of UC Sunnydale, head and shoulders over most of the student body, and when he wasn’t he was broader, the woman’s words came back to him. If Charles only went places where he didn’t stick out, he wouldn’t go very far at all.
The words had never failed to make him smile.
***
“Hello, hello!”
Oz’s head shot up as he reflexively crossed his legs and arms against the very feminine voice headed his way.
The woman who approached him was tall and slender and, frankly, beautiful. Oz felt an uncharacteristic flush chase itself across his body. “Uh…”
She grinned. “I have the effect on people sometimes. You seem to be having a problem, darling.”
“Uh…”
She laughed. “I didn’t think the effect was that strong. Maybe it’s the new perfume.”
“I’m…I’m usually…better? At this?”
“I should hope so,” she said, a solitary brow curving. “Although you’re a cute little thing.”
Oz felt the blush racing along his skin again.
“I also hope you’re not in the habit of sitting on the side of the road in your birthday suit.”
Now Oz smiled a little. “Not usually, no. Locked myself out.”
“That’s okay, Ozzie. I have a key.” She jangled it for emphasis.
Oz frowned. “You know my name. Sort of.”
“Bran sent me.” At his confusion, she added, “The Marrok, darling.”
“Oh.”
“Come on. I’ve got some clothes for you.”
Oz popped up to help her, noticing the bags she carried for the first time, only to shy away when a stray wind reminded him that he was naked.
“Oh don’t you worry. Body consciousness goes right out the window when you live with wolves.”
“You…you know about werewolves?”
Smiling indulgently, she said, “Everyone in Aspen Creek knows about werewolves. You either are one or you’re family to one.”
“So there’s a wolf in your family?” Oz asked as she stepped up to the door to lock it.
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I am the wolf in my family. Come on, let’s get you presentable.”
***
It was tempting to wait for the Slayer in her dorm room, but Charles thought that would be too confrontational. He trying to get her attention, not start a war. Instead he’d made a point of passing by the windows of her class. Now he was waiting for her in the hall.
Charles wasn’t sure he’d ever lounged around a university campus before. He didn’t see the appeal.
He didn’t have to wait long, at least. Within minutes, classes up and down the hall began letting out at some predetermined, but unknown to him, signal. Brother Wolf perked up within him. His Brother could sense the fellow predator worthy of their notice. Charles reminded him that they were there to play, either.
The Slayer was standing in front of him a little later. “I doubt you’d come all this way to tell me you didn’t play nice with Oz. Because if you did, that would be a bad idea and you didn’t really seem like a bad idea kinda guy.”
Charles’ lips quirked. “I’ve been known to make a few-“
The Slayer’s spine straightened and her stance widened.
“-but I don’t think this is one of them.”
She seemed to deflate. “Oh. Okay, then. Um…why are you stalking me at school?” she said as she began walking down the hall. Obviously he was meant to follow. His pride wanted him to stay. Brother Wolf found it amusing, and the Slayer intriguing. Charles fell into step just behind her.
“I thought showing up in your dorm room or at your doorstep might be taken the wrong way.”
Half-turning to look at him over her shoulder she nodded. “And you’d be right. So what else brings you, other than a desire to lower your creepy guy factor.”
“The Marrok wants to find out who turned Veruca and your friend Oz. Rogues are not tolerated, especially not on a Hellmouth. No packs are allowed on a Hellmouth.”
The Slayer scoffed. “Can’t imagine why.”
“This rogue might be trying to create a pack for himself,” Charles went on, disregarding Buffy’s aside. That can’t be allowed.”
“Uh, and what’ll you do with this rogue?”
Curiously, the Slayer’s shoulders had curled in. She’d lost much of the confident swagger shed had only moments before.
“Kill him, probably. Rogues can’t usually be reasoned with or rehabilitated.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
***
“I’m Sage, by the way,” the female werewolf said as she placed the shopping bags on the bed.
“Um, Oz. But you already know that.”
“That I do,” she said with a smile. “Now you’ve got the look of a man too embarrassed to get dressed around a pretty lady-“
“A beautiful lady.”
Sage lit up with pure pleasure. “Oh I do hope we keep you.”
Oz’s answering smile dimmed a little. “Me, too.”
“Well if not Aspen Creek then maybe the Columbia Basin Pack,” Sage said as she made her way to the door.
“Columbia Basin Pack?”
“In Tri-Cities, Washington. Their alpha’s a good man.” Her eyes went soft when Oz didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes had drifted to the floor. “You get dressed and I’ll wait outside, alright darling? You’ve gotta meeting with the Marrok.”
Fin[ite]
Series: Pack a Smile
Author: Vashti (tvashti)
Fandom: Mercy Thompson Series
Character(s): Oz, Charles Cornick, Buffy
Rating: PG
Summary: Oz feels better. Charles and Buffy have words. Start to have words.
Length: ~1440 words
Disclaimer: Only the words are mine, and that’s probably up for philosophical debate. Half my headcanon for the fusion version of this verse comes from kerrykhat, akat and avamclean.
Notes: This may have gone sideways? Anyway, the series has a name now.
Oz felt the lock on his motel room door slip when he tried it. It was a slam lock. Willow and Buffy had one on their dorm room. A toggle in the lock itself kept the door locked to the outside, but allowed it to be open from within, no keys necessary.
The door had been locked, but not against him. The warm sense of protection that had let Oz relax into sleep hours ago, riding in the rental car with Charles, rolled over him again. Oz pressed a hand over his chest and took a deep breath. Traveling to music festivals with the Dingoes and on his own, he'd experienced his fair share of really grotty port-a-potties. That moment when you stepped out of the port-a-potty and away from the equally rank lines of people waiting their turn, and took a deep breath of clean air was almost indescribable. Oz felt like that. Except he'd been in a fetid hole for months instead of minutes. It felt like the first clean breath after being stuck in a fetid hole. He took another and smiled. They were in the mountains of Montana. This probably was the first clean breath he'd had in months, maybe years.
A mean little voice in the back of his, curiously husky and female, told him that it wouldn't last. That he'd have to pay for killing Veruca.
Oz went the five steps forward it took to clear the little concrete sidewalk that circled the motel and sat down. He was going to leave that voice behind unless or until it was something he had to deal with. In the meantime...he was really, really naked. And locked out of his room.
Oz rested his forehead against one of his raised knees and laughed.
***
Years ago, Charles had been in New York City on a business trip for the pack. He and Nicolaas, the New Amsterdam pack alpha, and his second had decided to walk from their offices in the West 30s down to Little Italy. The break had been more than welcome, and the leisurely walk through the surprisingly quiescent city had been good for all of them.
Nicolaas and his second had kept up an steady conversation that was open to Charles but didn't require his participation, which he had appreciated. He would have preferred less talking if not for the empty streets. Nicolaas hadn't been as old a lobo as many of the alphas with packs his size but he had been, and still was, a thoughtful and insightful man.
Little Italy had been about as crowded with shops as Charles remembered, but the people traffic was still unusually low. It had been cleaner, too. And he’d still stuck out like a sore thumb.
“I don’t know if I feel comfortable going in there, even if it wasn’t a private club.”
The high-pitched words had pulled Charles from his reminiscence. Waiting for a light to turn, the three wolves had stopped behind a brown-skinned woman and her darker-skinned daughter. The daughter had spoken.
“If I only went places where I didn’t stick out, I wouldn’t go anywhere,” the mother had said, looking down at her daughter. The girl had shrugged. The light changed. The women had gone their way and Charles and the New Amsterdam wolves had gone theirs, but the truth of the older woman’s words had stuck.
Standing on the campus of UC Sunnydale, head and shoulders over most of the student body, and when he wasn’t he was broader, the woman’s words came back to him. If Charles only went places where he didn’t stick out, he wouldn’t go very far at all.
The words had never failed to make him smile.
***
“Hello, hello!”
Oz’s head shot up as he reflexively crossed his legs and arms against the very feminine voice headed his way.
The woman who approached him was tall and slender and, frankly, beautiful. Oz felt an uncharacteristic flush chase itself across his body. “Uh…”
She grinned. “I have the effect on people sometimes. You seem to be having a problem, darling.”
“Uh…”
She laughed. “I didn’t think the effect was that strong. Maybe it’s the new perfume.”
“I’m…I’m usually…better? At this?”
“I should hope so,” she said, a solitary brow curving. “Although you’re a cute little thing.”
Oz felt the blush racing along his skin again.
“I also hope you’re not in the habit of sitting on the side of the road in your birthday suit.”
Now Oz smiled a little. “Not usually, no. Locked myself out.”
“That’s okay, Ozzie. I have a key.” She jangled it for emphasis.
Oz frowned. “You know my name. Sort of.”
“Bran sent me.” At his confusion, she added, “The Marrok, darling.”
“Oh.”
“Come on. I’ve got some clothes for you.”
Oz popped up to help her, noticing the bags she carried for the first time, only to shy away when a stray wind reminded him that he was naked.
“Oh don’t you worry. Body consciousness goes right out the window when you live with wolves.”
“You…you know about werewolves?”
Smiling indulgently, she said, “Everyone in Aspen Creek knows about werewolves. You either are one or you’re family to one.”
“So there’s a wolf in your family?” Oz asked as she stepped up to the door to lock it.
She looked at him over her shoulder. “I am the wolf in my family. Come on, let’s get you presentable.”
***
It was tempting to wait for the Slayer in her dorm room, but Charles thought that would be too confrontational. He trying to get her attention, not start a war. Instead he’d made a point of passing by the windows of her class. Now he was waiting for her in the hall.
Charles wasn’t sure he’d ever lounged around a university campus before. He didn’t see the appeal.
He didn’t have to wait long, at least. Within minutes, classes up and down the hall began letting out at some predetermined, but unknown to him, signal. Brother Wolf perked up within him. His Brother could sense the fellow predator worthy of their notice. Charles reminded him that they were there to play, either.
The Slayer was standing in front of him a little later. “I doubt you’d come all this way to tell me you didn’t play nice with Oz. Because if you did, that would be a bad idea and you didn’t really seem like a bad idea kinda guy.”
Charles’ lips quirked. “I’ve been known to make a few-“
The Slayer’s spine straightened and her stance widened.
“-but I don’t think this is one of them.”
She seemed to deflate. “Oh. Okay, then. Um…why are you stalking me at school?” she said as she began walking down the hall. Obviously he was meant to follow. His pride wanted him to stay. Brother Wolf found it amusing, and the Slayer intriguing. Charles fell into step just behind her.
“I thought showing up in your dorm room or at your doorstep might be taken the wrong way.”
Half-turning to look at him over her shoulder she nodded. “And you’d be right. So what else brings you, other than a desire to lower your creepy guy factor.”
“The Marrok wants to find out who turned Veruca and your friend Oz. Rogues are not tolerated, especially not on a Hellmouth. No packs are allowed on a Hellmouth.”
The Slayer scoffed. “Can’t imagine why.”
“This rogue might be trying to create a pack for himself,” Charles went on, disregarding Buffy’s aside. That can’t be allowed.”
“Uh, and what’ll you do with this rogue?”
Curiously, the Slayer’s shoulders had curled in. She’d lost much of the confident swagger shed had only moments before.
“Kill him, probably. Rogues can’t usually be reasoned with or rehabilitated.”
“I was afraid you’d say that.”
***
“I’m Sage, by the way,” the female werewolf said as she placed the shopping bags on the bed.
“Um, Oz. But you already know that.”
“That I do,” she said with a smile. “Now you’ve got the look of a man too embarrassed to get dressed around a pretty lady-“
“A beautiful lady.”
Sage lit up with pure pleasure. “Oh I do hope we keep you.”
Oz’s answering smile dimmed a little. “Me, too.”
“Well if not Aspen Creek then maybe the Columbia Basin Pack,” Sage said as she made her way to the door.
“Columbia Basin Pack?”
“In Tri-Cities, Washington. Their alpha’s a good man.” Her eyes went soft when Oz didn’t respond. Instead, his eyes had drifted to the floor. “You get dressed and I’ll wait outside, alright darling? You’ve gotta meeting with the Marrok.”
Fin[ite]