Willow's scared of graduating and Oz makes her feel better. Post-Choices fluff. It was inspired by a quote from Tangled, shown below fic. Feedback would be loved.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of these characters. If I did, I wouldn't be writing fanfiction about them.
Willow sighed quietly and snuggled in a little closer to Oz's side. He tightened his arm around her waist and began to slowly stroke her hair. Oz had scarcely left Willow's side since the mayor had released her, not that she minded his presence at all, leaving her only to pull his van up to the front door of the school and to use the bathroom. He knew, intellectually, that she was safe and completely out of harms way now, but he couldn't help but want to watch out for her tonight. Earlier, when Buffy and Angel had returned to the library without Willow, he had been beyond terrified, more scared than he thought it was possible to be. Over the past year and a half, Willow had become one of the most important things in his life, if not the most important, and the thought of losing her made his blood run cold. He pulled her a little closer and held her a little tighter, grimly remembering how close he had come to losing her, and wanting to feel her familiar warmth, before her quiet voice broke through his musings.
"Oz?" she murmured, the sound of her voice actual music to Oz's ears.
"Yeah, baby?" Willow turned around in his arms, so that they were laying face to face, their noses nearly touching, looking deep into each other's eyes.
"I'm," she paused, and Oz leaned forward an inch to brush her nose with his own. "I'm scared," she admitted, her tone a hushed whisper.
"'Bout what? The Ascension?"
"No. Well, yeah, of course I am, who wouldn't be? Aren't you? But that's not what I meant. I meant that, well, I'm scared to, to- I'm scared to graduate."
Oz reached up his hand and tucked a loose piece of hair behind her ear. He dropped a gentle kiss on her forehead and waited for his girlfriend to elaborate. True to form, Willow did, unleashing a flood of nervous babble on Oz.
"It's silly, I know, that out of everything that's going on and that we're up against, it's graduation that's giving me the wiggins. But what if it goes wrong, Oz? What if it's not perfect? For as long as I can remember, I've had this perfect dream of my graduation, and how it will be the most perfect day I've ever lived, and how amazing everything will be, and I can't not dream about having a perfect graduation!
"And, Oz, what if it's not everything I dreamed of? What do I do?"
"Don't worry, Wills. It'll be better."
"How do you know? You're not psychic or anything, are you? Because, if you are, you oughta tell Giles and—"
Oz leaned forward and kissed her deeply, calming her incredibly agitated stream of Willow-babble. She blinked at him, dazed, but pleased, when he pulled away and reached up and twirling fiery strands of her hair around his index finger lazily.
"I just know. I'll make sure it's perfect, just for you."
"But, what if it is, Oz? What do I do then? What's left after you get what you've been dreaming about for so long? How can you get better than something that was better than perfect? You can't be better than above perfect!" Willow's forehead was becoming progressively more furrowed and wrinkled, so Oz stroked the thumb of his free hand along the creases, smoothing out the wrinkles and worries.
"Well that's the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream."
"Yeah?"
"Yeah." He gave her a little half smile, which she returned full force after a moment, her smile blinding in all its brightness. She leaned in and pressed a short, but achingly sweet, kiss to his lips.
"Oh, well, I guess that's good, because I think I already have one."
"Share with the class?" Oz asked, genuinely curious about what was making his girlfriend so wonderfully happy.
"Well," she grinned, a light blush dusting her cheeks, "there's this nerdy redheaded witch, and there's this incredibly handsome and wonderful werewolf, who's usually a redhead, and they're happy. They have the cute little house, with the white picket fence and a big backyard with trees, and they see their best friends every Sunday for brunch, and- and they have a turtle, but no cat and no dog, because they wouldn't get along with the werewolf. Oh! And, it snows every Christmas, just like their first Christmas together, and the werewolf gets to play with his band, and the witch has just gotten her PhD, and they're so happy and so in love! And, Oz, it's perfect." Willow refused to meet Oz's eyes, embarrassed with her forthrightness and worried that it would be too much for him. Staring somewhere around his shoulder, Willow completely missed the blinding smile on Oz's face, but when Oz gently lifted her chin so she would look him in the eyes, the joy she found there matched her own.
"It sounds perfect, baby. But, can there be a little redheaded boy or girl there, too? Because, in my dream, there's the witch, and the werewolf, and the most beautiful baby you've ever seen," Oz whispered quietly, leaning his forehead against hers and gently combing his fingers through her hair.
"What else is in your dream?" Willow breathes, eyes shining like stars, finally forgetting about graduations, ascensions, and kidnappings.
"Don't know," Oz remarks, just as quietly. "I see the most wonderful girl I've ever known, the happiest man in the world, and their absolutely incredible child. Nothing else matters. Not when I have you." The smile of complete adoration on Oz's face lit up the room, chasing away any shadows that lingered in the corners of Willow's mind.
Willow pressed another swift kiss to Oz's lips before whispering, "Oz?"
He raised his eyebrows in response, too awed by the light in her eyes to formulate an actual response.
"I'm in love with you, Oz. So much. Do you know that?" She flushed faintly and turned Oz into a happy sort of mush inside, because even though this wasn't the first time she'd told him this, each time felt just like the first time. Oz pulled her head to his with the hand that had been playing with her hair and kissed her deeply.
Before too long, Oz pulled away, breathless, and rested his forehead against Willow's, staring deep into her eyes.
"I know it. And you know I'm in love with you, right?" At Willow's nod and delighted grin, Oz continued, needing to impress upon her just how much he cared. "I'm so in love with you, that I don't even understand it. It's out of control, and it's terrifying, and I love it. Being in love with you is the greatest thing in the world, Will."
"Oh, Oz," Willow broke off, nearly choked up. She kissed him, desperate to prove how much she loved him, but, for once in her life, unable to find the words. For a minute, Willow lay still in Oz's arms, noses barely touching, and smiled at him while she tried to blink back her tears.
"You know, nobody would believe me if I told them you used that many words at once," she giggled, after she finally pulled herself together.
"Only for my Willow."
She giggled again, before pulling out of his arms and sitting up next to him on the bed.
"Oz," she asked when he sat up to join her. "Will you stay here tonight? It's just, my parents are out of town, again, and I really don't want to all by myself tonight."
"Understandable," he commented, wrapping his arm around her waist. "Where do you want me to sleep?"
Oz grinned as Willow flushed lightly before saying, "Well, you could sleep in here, with me."
"Sounds perfect."
Willow stood up and walked over to her dresser to get her pajamas, before walking to her bathroom to change. When she returned, all dressed for bed, she found Oz, stripped down to just his boxers and a t-shirt.
"Hey," she whispered with a blush, suddenly shy at the sight of her boyfriend in his nightclothes. She seen him in less before, though not too much less, but this seemed different somehow. "I've got an extra toothbrush that you can use."
"Thanks, Will."
Together they brushed their teeth, and while Willow washed her face and brushed her hair, Oz went to turn back the sheets and get ready to sleep. Willow returned to her bedroom to find her boyfriend lying in her bed, clearly waiting for her, and felt suddenly nervous. Maybe inviting him to spend the night wasn't the best idea she'd ever had.
"Come to bed, Willow." Oz smiled gently at her. "You need your rest." Willow smiled back at him, falling in love with him just a little bit more because of the obvious concern in his voice. She flipped off the lights, crossed the room, and crawled into bed with Oz. She curled up next to him and he pulled her into his arms, molding against her shape. She snuggled as close as possible and rested her head in the crook of his neck, feeling safer in his arms than she could ever remember.
"Goodnight, Oz. I love you," Willow whispered, before kissing him quickly and laying back down in his arms.
"I love you too, baby. Night."
They lay silently for a minute, each looking forward to the morning, and waking up in the arms of the person they loved most in the world.
"Oz?" Willow ventured after a few sleepless minutes.
"Yeah, Wills?"
"Would you sing me a lullaby? My brains being all noisy, and I can't fall asleep."
"Course I will. You know I'd do anything for you, baby," he replied and placed an affectionate kiss to her forehead.
"Likewise. You're the best, Oz." Oz couldn't see her in the dark, but he could hear her smile in her voice, and it made him smile, just a little bit wider.
"I could stay awake,
Just to hear to hear you breathing,
Watch you smile when you are sleeping
While you're far away and dreaming.
I could spend my life,
In this sweet surrender
I could stay lost in this moment forever
Every moment spent with you is a moment I treasure."
By the time Oz had finished the song Willow was fast asleep, breathing slowly in his arms. Oz whispered one final declaration of love to the sleeping girl, before closing his own eyes, and falling asleep within moments. That night, they both dreamed of a little house, with a white picket fence, and a wonderfully happy redheaded family. It was the best sleep either of them had gotten all year.
fin.
Flynn Rider: You OK?
Rapunzel: I'm terrified.
F: Why?
R: I've been looking out a window for eighteen years, dreaming about what it might feel like when those lights rise in the sky. What if it's not everything that I dreamed it would be?
F: It will be.
R: And what if it is? What do I do then?
F: Well that's the good part, I guess. You get to go find a new dream.
F: You were my new dream.
R: And you were mine.
