You Do Something to Me (1/?) (Buffy)
Title: You Do Something to Me (Part 1 of ?)
Author: Tabitha Grace
Pairing: Willow/Oz
Rated: G (for now)
Warnings: AU (in light of the Season 8 comics coming out), Kennedy goes sort of evil, Willow goes straight again.....
Disclaimer: Not mine, just for fun, blah blah blah
Timeline: Post-Chosen
Holiday: Valentine's Day
written for
holiday_btvs and their Valentine's Day Ficathon.
It was hard being Brazil away from Buffy and Xander, but waking up with a smiling face, that was worth it. Willow and Kennedy explored South America, finding new slayers, telling them about their powers, sunbathing in Rio. It seem idealic for a long time. Kennedy was powerful, with an intensity that seemed to match Willow's. But then, then it seemed to be going wrong.
Each new slayer they found changed Kennedy in some way. As she worked out, found her own powers, her attitude and nature changed. She'd go out hunting every night and be gone way past sunup. Willow started to feel alone again. In the dark boredom started to speak to her, call to her. She wanted something to hold on to so the boredom didn't eat at her. So, she started amusing herself with magic tricks. Kennedy had forbidden her from using magic at home, off duty, but Kennedy wasn't there so who would know?
Who would know until the night Kennedy came home finding Willow floating in a field of yellow daisies, an image of Tara floating alongside her. Kennedy saw red.
Oz had been in Brazil for some time. Since he had left Willow he had made it his personal mission to seek out fellow werewolves and help train them to control their urges. It was part of the deal he had made with the man who had taught him and he felt obligated.
He had picked up Willow's scent long before that night, it was all over Rio. He had stayed away, seeing how happy she looked with Kennedy. And yet, he couldn't really stay away. He found excuses to walk by the small house she shared with Kennedy just to catch sight of her. That's when he heard the scream. He rushed into the house, forgetting momentarily his customary coolness. When it came to Willow he was anything but coolheaded.
The scene that met him when he opened the door was of epic proportions. Kennedy stood, poised with a broken piece of mirror, her breath coming out like that of a dying vacuum cleaner. Willow, hands up, hair white as snow, had a large, bleeding gash on her forehead. Oz smelled the blood before he entered, when he saw the matching stain on the piece of glass Kennedy held he lunged at her.
"Oz!" Willow's voice sounded musical, glowing. Oz stopped, almost against his will. He didn't realize when he had changed, didn't realize that he had nearly ripped Kennedy's throat out, and very nearly didn't realize that it was Willow who had stopped him from killing her. He stepped back, shaking his head to clear it, as he did he morphed back to his human form.
Kennedy sprang to her feet, her eyes threatening more than mere words as she spat out, "kill that thing."
Willow's hair had resumed it's normal shade of red, but her eyes still glowed with a force that seemed to match her resolve. "No, Kennedy this is Oz."
"Oz?" Kennedy nearly lunged forward. "First Tara, now Oz. Will the insanity never stop?"
"He's real." There was a pause where Oz could distinctly feel his teeth aching to come out.
Kennedy's face twisted, resembling an evil jack-in-the-box. "Oh, and I suppose your first true love just came by because we're directly over a hellmouth and that, of course explains everything that's unexplicable."
"Stop it Kennedy, stop it right now." There were few times Oz had ever witnessed Willow truly angry. They were... well the word memorable just didn't do them justice. When she got angry she became a drill sargent and, what was creepier, people obeyed. It didn't matter who you were, when angry Willow commanded: you saluted.
This was no exception, though Oz distinctly saw the look of resentment in Kennedy's eyes. "Fine. You want your crazed, murdering freak of a boyfriend. You can have him." Kennedy stomped off to the bedroom and then, a few minutes later with equal stomping, headed out the front door which she banged on the way out.
Oz and Willow had stood, frozen in time it would seem, during the entire stompfest. Even a couple moments after. Then Oz walked over to Willow. His face twisted with concern. Anyone who knew Oz knew this was not a look he carried. Not that he really carried any looks but passive cool. "Did she hurt you?"
Willow blinked. "Oz...." Her voice was soft, almost as if she had been transported back in time and here it was highschool again. Then she blinked again, almost as if deciding what reality was. "Oz?" Her upper lip did that sweet curl of confusion, he had missed that look.
"Yeah, it's me."
"Oz." She moved into him, wrapping him in a tight embrace. Holding on to him as if he were driftwood and she had been shipwrecked.
Neither of them spoke for a long time. Oz wasn't much for words and Willow had no words. She vaguely remember him moving her to the couch and cleaning her wound. He smelled so good. Like the woods. It was a comforting smell, a security blanket kind of smell. She leaned against his chest after he finished and just closed her eyes, enveloping herself in that smell.