Untitled (zemi-Oz/Cordy, G)
Title: Untitled
Fandom: Buffy
tamingthemuse prompt: #8, Pitch
paranormal25 promp: #6, Possession ( table)
Pairing: Oz/Cordy friendship/couple-thingy
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: takes place post-New Moon Rising in Buffy
Word Count: 986
Summary: After leaving Sunnydale for the second time, Oz goes to the only place he feels welcome.
From Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary:
Pitch -- (Gen. 6:14), asphalt or bitumen in its soft state, called "slime" (Gen. 11:3; 14:10; Ex. 2:3), found in pits near the Dead Sea (q.v.). It was used for various purposes, as the coating of the outside of vessels and in building. Allusion is made in Isa. 34:9 to its inflammable character. (See SLIME.)
He had knocked on her door three minutes ago, after the clock had struck midnight. Oz wanted to tell himself that he didn't know why he came here, of all places, right after escaping Sunnydale. The problem being, of course, that he did know.
"Oz?" Cordelia paused to yawn as she opened the door. Blinking, she stared at him, before stepping aside to allow him entrance. Just like that and he was accepted back into her world. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to Sunnydale and show off your cool moon trick."
"Things didn't go as planned," Oz offered. He tightened his grip on his bag, watching as Cordelia locked her door.
"Come on, I'll make coffee and you can explain that creepy little message," Cordelia stated. Oz hid a smile and followed her into the kitchen. Oz felt something touch his shoulder, where the strap of his bag rested. He released his hold on the item and watched as Phantom Dennis carried it into the living room. Cordelia glanced over with a tired, yet bright smile. "Did you know that you are one of the few men he'll touch?"
Oz tilted his head, lips curving upward. Cordelia rolled her eyes at his silence and scooped coffee grinds out of its container. Coffee was made and placed before him as he sat at her small table. She positioned herself across from him, eyebrow raised.
"Well? Spit it out," Cordelia ordered.
"I went to Sunnydale, found out Willow had moved on, and lost control," Oz said. He took a sip of scalding hot coffee, feeling the burn on his tongue. "I got caught by some people called the Initiative and, well, here I am."
"Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?" Cordelia asked, eyes wide.
"Aside from emotionally? No, I'll be fine," Oz replied.
"Pssht, you're so better off without Willow," Cordelia informed him. "I never really saw you two together, anyway."
"Hmm," Oz offered.
He slept on the sofa, the sounds of the apartment sending him into a deep sleep. He didn't hear Cordelia wake up in the morning, though the smell of breakfast entered his dreams. It wasn't until close to noon that Oz opened his eyes to find Cordelia standing over him with a soft smile on her face.
"I was wondering when you'd get up," Cordelia said. "I was just about to wake you."
Something in Cordelia's voice made Oz sit up, giving her his full attention. "What is it?"
"I had a vision of some girl being possessed," Cordelia replied. "I need to go--"
"Wait, shouldn't Angel take care of this?" Oz asked, pushing himself to his feet.
"Normally he would, except the whole middle of the day and in the park thing," Cordelia informed him. "He's not going to be much help hiding underneath a tree."
"Right," Oz nodded. He went to get dressed, ignoring Cordelia's voice telling him that he didn't need to go with her.
Wesley met them at the coffee shop across from the park. Oz had been shocked the first time he saw the man again after Sunnydale, but had gotten over it quickly. He showed up to see Cordelia often enough now that he had gotten used to Wesley's presence. Cordelia wandered away to get a mocha, looking crabby about having to be there at all. Oz stared out the window.
"I didn't realize you'd be visiting again," Wesley commented, taking a sip of something in a Styrofoam cup. Oz chose to pretend it was black tea with a dash of sugar. "I thought you were returning to Sunnydale."
It was a sentence, but Wesley phrased it in a way that it had an invisible question mark at the end. Oz felt obligated to reply.
"Things didn't work out," Oz said.
"Indeed," Wesley glanced behind them, where Cordelia was accepting her mocha from the cashier. "I would suspect that you had more going for you here than there."
Oz felt Cordelia approach and didn't reply. Wesley gave him a slight smirk, indicating that agreeing to Wesley's comment wasn't needed. Cordelia stepped up between them and frowned. "What's the stitch? You guys look too serious. It's just a possession thing. Icky black stuff all over the place, but that's about it. You did bring the salt and a de-possession thingy, right, Wes?"
"A crucifix, Cordelia," Wesley corrected, "and yes, I did."
"Good," Cordelia nodded and sat down her drink as a scream rang from across the street, "because the bad guy is here."
It didn't take nearly as long as Oz thought this sort of thing should go. The little girl had been possessed by some demon that was easily rid of with tossing salt in her direction, holding out a crucifix, and saying a few Latin phrases. In fact, Oz wondered why Cordelia or him had to be there at all, since Wesley handled everything in under five minutes.
"Well, this is gross," Cordelia commented. The little girl and the ground were covered in a thick, black material. "What the hell is it?"
"Pitch," Oz explained. He dipped his finger in a small blob on a park bench. It was smooth and sticky, like slime only thicker. "They used it to make boats back in biblical times."
"Aren't you a fount of knowledge." Cordelia rolled her eyes. She grabbed Oz's arm and began dragging him back toward the car. "We are going home and taking a shower. You look horrible. I wonder if Cascade will get this stuff off."
Oz smiled.
"What are you so happy about?" Cordelia asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing," Oz replied.
"Stop being cute," Cordelia ordered. Oz didn't bother to fake an innocent look, since he knew that Cordelia would be able to see through it anyway. Cordelia let out a dramatic sigh and mumbled something about men. Oz found he couldn't remove his smile.
Fandom: Buffy
tamingthemuse prompt: #8, Pitch
paranormal25 promp: #6, Possession ( table)
Pairing: Oz/Cordy friendship/couple-thingy
Rating: G
Warnings/Spoilers: takes place post-New Moon Rising in Buffy
Word Count: 986
Summary: After leaving Sunnydale for the second time, Oz goes to the only place he feels welcome.
From Easton's 1897 Bible Dictionary:
Pitch -- (Gen. 6:14), asphalt or bitumen in its soft state, called "slime" (Gen. 11:3; 14:10; Ex. 2:3), found in pits near the Dead Sea (q.v.). It was used for various purposes, as the coating of the outside of vessels and in building. Allusion is made in Isa. 34:9 to its inflammable character. (See SLIME.)
He had knocked on her door three minutes ago, after the clock had struck midnight. Oz wanted to tell himself that he didn't know why he came here, of all places, right after escaping Sunnydale. The problem being, of course, that he did know.
"Oz?" Cordelia paused to yawn as she opened the door. Blinking, she stared at him, before stepping aside to allow him entrance. Just like that and he was accepted back into her world. "What are you doing here? I thought you were going back to Sunnydale and show off your cool moon trick."
"Things didn't go as planned," Oz offered. He tightened his grip on his bag, watching as Cordelia locked her door.
"Come on, I'll make coffee and you can explain that creepy little message," Cordelia stated. Oz hid a smile and followed her into the kitchen. Oz felt something touch his shoulder, where the strap of his bag rested. He released his hold on the item and watched as Phantom Dennis carried it into the living room. Cordelia glanced over with a tired, yet bright smile. "Did you know that you are one of the few men he'll touch?"
Oz tilted his head, lips curving upward. Cordelia rolled her eyes at his silence and scooped coffee grinds out of its container. Coffee was made and placed before him as he sat at her small table. She positioned herself across from him, eyebrow raised.
"Well? Spit it out," Cordelia ordered.
"I went to Sunnydale, found out Willow had moved on, and lost control," Oz said. He took a sip of scalding hot coffee, feeling the burn on his tongue. "I got caught by some people called the Initiative and, well, here I am."
"Are you okay? You're not hurt are you?" Cordelia asked, eyes wide.
"Aside from emotionally? No, I'll be fine," Oz replied.
"Pssht, you're so better off without Willow," Cordelia informed him. "I never really saw you two together, anyway."
"Hmm," Oz offered.
He slept on the sofa, the sounds of the apartment sending him into a deep sleep. He didn't hear Cordelia wake up in the morning, though the smell of breakfast entered his dreams. It wasn't until close to noon that Oz opened his eyes to find Cordelia standing over him with a soft smile on her face.
"I was wondering when you'd get up," Cordelia said. "I was just about to wake you."
Something in Cordelia's voice made Oz sit up, giving her his full attention. "What is it?"
"I had a vision of some girl being possessed," Cordelia replied. "I need to go--"
"Wait, shouldn't Angel take care of this?" Oz asked, pushing himself to his feet.
"Normally he would, except the whole middle of the day and in the park thing," Cordelia informed him. "He's not going to be much help hiding underneath a tree."
"Right," Oz nodded. He went to get dressed, ignoring Cordelia's voice telling him that he didn't need to go with her.
Wesley met them at the coffee shop across from the park. Oz had been shocked the first time he saw the man again after Sunnydale, but had gotten over it quickly. He showed up to see Cordelia often enough now that he had gotten used to Wesley's presence. Cordelia wandered away to get a mocha, looking crabby about having to be there at all. Oz stared out the window.
"I didn't realize you'd be visiting again," Wesley commented, taking a sip of something in a Styrofoam cup. Oz chose to pretend it was black tea with a dash of sugar. "I thought you were returning to Sunnydale."
It was a sentence, but Wesley phrased it in a way that it had an invisible question mark at the end. Oz felt obligated to reply.
"Things didn't work out," Oz said.
"Indeed," Wesley glanced behind them, where Cordelia was accepting her mocha from the cashier. "I would suspect that you had more going for you here than there."
Oz felt Cordelia approach and didn't reply. Wesley gave him a slight smirk, indicating that agreeing to Wesley's comment wasn't needed. Cordelia stepped up between them and frowned. "What's the stitch? You guys look too serious. It's just a possession thing. Icky black stuff all over the place, but that's about it. You did bring the salt and a de-possession thingy, right, Wes?"
"A crucifix, Cordelia," Wesley corrected, "and yes, I did."
"Good," Cordelia nodded and sat down her drink as a scream rang from across the street, "because the bad guy is here."
It didn't take nearly as long as Oz thought this sort of thing should go. The little girl had been possessed by some demon that was easily rid of with tossing salt in her direction, holding out a crucifix, and saying a few Latin phrases. In fact, Oz wondered why Cordelia or him had to be there at all, since Wesley handled everything in under five minutes.
"Well, this is gross," Cordelia commented. The little girl and the ground were covered in a thick, black material. "What the hell is it?"
"Pitch," Oz explained. He dipped his finger in a small blob on a park bench. It was smooth and sticky, like slime only thicker. "They used it to make boats back in biblical times."
"Aren't you a fount of knowledge." Cordelia rolled her eyes. She grabbed Oz's arm and began dragging him back toward the car. "We are going home and taking a shower. You look horrible. I wonder if Cascade will get this stuff off."
Oz smiled.
"What are you so happy about?" Cordelia asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Nothing," Oz replied.
"Stop being cute," Cordelia ordered. Oz didn't bother to fake an innocent look, since he knew that Cordelia would be able to see through it anyway. Cordelia let out a dramatic sigh and mumbled something about men. Oz found he couldn't remove his smile.