Note one: I was asked recently about Oz's place in the Wickedgeekyverse, with the enquiry presented as a 'challenge' of sorts. However, understandably unbeknownst to the reader, I'd already addressed, to a small extent, the lack of Oz in a short fic that I'd written back in 2008, which was never uploaded for public consumption.

The fic was written for a friend who presented me with the following prompts: Either Oz, Willow or Buffy/Faith; either taciturn or pachyderm; and string.

Taking a no-prompt-left-behind approach, I ended up sending her this, which covers everything. Sort of. And all in just 500 words!

So, until real life stops getting in the way of me uploading brand new content, please enjoy this previously un-online-released fic. Set in the Wickedgeekyverse (because I like to make things difficult for myself and also I can't seem to write BtVS-fic outside of it), it takes place sometime before 'Almost Hear You Sigh' from Beggars Banquet.

Note two: I have a bunch of other Wickedgeekyverse/Wickedgeeky-adjacent works - including a couple of, by now very dated, AU crossovers - that I also never got round to uploading at the time, so, if anyone's interested, I'll be happy to upload them now for your entertainment.

And these notes are now almost as long as the fic itself!

Still There Shining

A square-shaped package arrives, something of a novelty thanks to an ever-increasing reliance on downloading. Sitting on the bed to open it, Willow feels Faith kneel up behind her, leaning close to reach over her shoulder.

"What'cha get?" Faith picks through the half-dozen plastic boxes, reading each title aloud. "... Incredible String Band?"

"Um, think Led Zeppelin without the extreme Led Zeppelin-ness. Folky Led Zeppelin."

"Wussy Led Zeppelin? How d'you know all this stuff anyhow?"

Willow turns, arches an eyebrow. "You just want to hear me say it."

"Uh-huh."

"I was ... a teenage groupie."

"Wow, backstage BJs, the works?"

Willow flashes a quick frown then moves on. "Oz listened to all kinds of stuff. Plus, Giles had a lot of old fogey tales."

Faith sits back against the headboard. "Think you'll ever see him again?"

"Giles?"

"Oz."

Willow pauses. "I'd like to ... if I knew where he was."

Lights dimmed, stereo on, Faith scrambles from the bed and starts to undress. Willow watches her. It's a moot point, she supposes – hopes – but, she wonders if she and Faith could ever be friends after this.

The Slayer straddles her and grins, almost a sneer. Says something about dodging a 24/7 Lilith Fair bullet and how Buffy probably listens to more lesbo-music than Willow does.

Faith enters her then, hard enough to almost hurt – the no-warning kind that makes Willow shudder.

Her own track record probably nudges the friendship possibility up a few notches.

But, then, she suspects Faith might be less forgiving.

Willow's not exactly the most patient person, yet somehow she manages to take these days in stride, lets Faith deal with it without having to explain or give reassurances. But, Faith likes having her near too, even if it does feel selfish. Even if it scares her sometimes, how much she's come to rely on that closeness.

Except today Willow's not around to be near, uncontactable at the Coven until morning. Without her, Faith sits on the steps alone, only faintly aware of the tension inside the house – newbies treading warily around one of those days. Her sense of duty is the only thing that brings her – temporarily – out of it and, even then, the Slayers are cautious around her, careful not to encourage conversation, keeping their distance.

An hour later, she's back on the steps, studying a murky horizon through a cloud of tobacco smoke. The kitchen door opens behind her, but she doesn't react. Part of her thinks she's been waiting for this all day, waiting for B to start yelling at her to pull herself together, to quit being a self-indulgent waste of space. Only Faith's not sure her skin's thick enough right now to take that kind of punishment.

Instead, she feels a jacket placed around her and Buffy sits down. Just sits there, eyes ahead, and doesn't say a word. Even when she inches along the step and rests her head against Faith's shoulder.

When midnight comes, she's still there.

And Faith finally stops waiting.