AUTHOR'S NOTE: I originally posted these stories in 1998, and most of the sites that had it are down now, so I put the whole thing together.
DISCLAIMER: I donÕt own Oz, et al. I donÕt own anything, just the situation I put the characters in. Joss Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and 20th Century Fox own the characters. I am getting paid for nothing, but it would be nice if I was!
*****
Oz had made up his mind. Tonight he was going to meet that girl. Or he was at least going to find out her name, or something about her. He only knew her as Òthat girl,Ó and that wasnÕt exactly a good start for a relationship.
Tonight the Dingoes was playing the Bronze again, and he figured that girl would probably be there. Oz had been there last Friday to hang out, and the Friday before that to play, and she had been there both nights. Hopefully sheÕd be there today, too. Actually, he had tried to approach her last week, but she was there with some tall, dark-haired guy. Oz wasn't sure if that was her boyfriend or what, and just in case, he didnÕt want to step in where he wasnÕt welcome. Not that he wasnÕt used to stepping in where he wasnÕt welcome, but he wanted to start off on the right foot with her. Messing with a boyfriend wasnÕt that right foot.
He had three hours to accomplish what he had set out to do. They got there to set up at seven, but they had to be gone at ten, way before the Bronze was even set to close. That was what happened when your drummer got grounded. Of course, only this band would even think about starting off with three hours of music that had been heard only two weeks before. He was lucky to have as much time as he did. Oz would have stuck around just in case she showed up late, but of course, he had the van and he had to spend his night driving people home. He had three hours and that was it. But tonight was the night. He had to meet her.
As the first hour passed and the band played, Oz began to grow slightly discouraged. It was now eight oÕclock, and that girl hadnÕt shown up yet. Maybe heÕd been paying too much attention to the music to notice her come in. Yeah, right. None of them were paying too much attention to their music. That was why they had been sharping all night. This wasnÕt working.
His concentration was split from the music for about another fifteen minutes or so. At about 8:15, they got another break. The prerecorded music started playing over the speakers, and Oz hopped off the stage to head off into the crowd. Again, maybe that girl had come in when he wasnÕt looking. He wasnÕt about to even think that she might not come. HeÕd set himself up for this. Stay optimistic.
Oz wandered aimlessly through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of red hair somewhere. There werenÕt many redheads in the place, and those who were had probably gone to a bottle for help for that. It didnÕt look like she was anywhere in the crowd on the first floor, and he had scanned the dance floor thoroughly while still onstage, so she couldnÕt be there.
It hit just him then how ridiculous it was for him to be doing this. He was searching a crowded club full of teenagers during a ten-minute break on the slight chance that he might find and Òbump intoÓ certain girl that he could just as easily run into during school. Oz saw the lack of logic in this, then decided to check the upper level of the Bronze anyway.
When he had gotten about halfway up the stairs, Oz glanced at the stage and saw Devon and the others back up there, getting ready to start playing again. Had it been ten minutes already? Well, he thought, time flies when youÕre being obsessive. This would have to wait for later, and he would have to complain about not getting longer breaks later on. Disappointed, he turned right back around and went back onto the stage.
ÒAnd where did you go?Ó Devon asked as Oz slung the guitar over his shoulder.
ÒAround,Ó he answered shortly. Like he was going to tell Devon about what he was doing. He wasnÕt going to deal with prying of any kind. Besides, if Devon wasnÕt able to find out that girlÕs name, what use was he?
They continued to play, with Oz spending his breaks trying to find that girl somewhere on the premises. But by 9:45, he was pretty sure that girl wasnÕt going to show. She probably had something better to do, even though there was nothing to do in Sunnydale if you werenÕt at the Bronze. This was a stupid idea anyway. What was he thinking when he decided to do this? And why was he still dwelling on this when it was driving him crazy?
After that last song they got their instruments and their equipment and got ready to leave. Okay, so tonight was a bust. But maybe they could arrange a gig for next week... That would be a definite possibility. As Oz was kneeling on the stage to put his guitar back in its case, he just happened to look up, and his heart completely stopped for a second.
There she was.
She was wearing a light blue sweater with jeans, and it was good to see her in normal clothes. He had already seen her in an Eskimo costume and wearing leather on Halloween, and it was good to see her casually dressed. She was coming back from the bar, trying to carry three drinks back to her table, walking slowly so she didnÕt spill anything. She put two of the glasses on the table and sipped the last one herself as she sat down in a chair just slightly facing away from where Oz was. She was alone. This was his chance.
On impulse, he jumped off the stage to go talk to her. ÒHey, Oz, you want to help us here?Ó Devon yelled down.
ÒNot particularly,Ó he called over his shoulder.
Were his palms sweating? That wasnÕt supposed to happen. He couldnÕt get nervous about this. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he walked over to the table, stopping about twenty feet away from her. He wasnÕt going any further just yet.
She was with the possible boyfriend and a girl, a blond, who were trying to get her onto the dance floor. Each of them had one of her hands and they tried to pull her up from her chair, which she was trying desperately to stay in. ÒIÕm not going out there,Ó she said with a laugh. ÒIÕm serious. No way.Ó
The blond sighed and let go, the guy following her lead. ÒFine,Ó she said with mock indignation. ÒWe donÕt need you.Ó She linked arms with the guy, whose face immediately brightened. ÒCome on.Ó
ÒNote my relief,Ó she said as they left, but she was smiling.
Her friends went back to the dance floor, in clear sight, and Oz started back on his way. He was now behind her, at armÕs length. He stopped, took a deep breath and reached out his arm to tap her on the shoulder-
ÒFine,Ó she muttered with a sigh, and got up to go join her friends before Oz even had the chance to make a move. So close!
ÒOz!Ó Devon said from a few feet away. He was annoyed, but Oz didnÕt care. After all, who had the keys? ÒWe finished closing up without you. Ready to go?Ó
ÒRaring,Ó he grumbled, not looking forward to going. Five more minutes, the song would be over, and he would have another chance. He waved Devon off, watching that girl with her friends, looking uncomfortable, but ultimately perfect as she swayed a little, her personal way of dancing. She had to be the most flawless person on the face of this planet.
ÒWho is that girl?Ó he whispered with a smile, then turned to go back to his van.
*****
Oz had made up his mind. Tonight he was going to meet that girl. Or he was at least going to find out her name, or something about her. He only knew her as Òthat girl,Ó and that wasnÕt exactly a good start for a relationship.
Tonight the Dingoes was playing the Bronze again, and he figured that girl would probably be there. Oz had been there last Friday to hang out, and the Friday before that to play, and she had been there both nights. Hopefully sheÕd be there today, too. Actually, he had tried to approach her last week, but she was there with some tall, dark-haired guy. Oz wasn't sure if that was her boyfriend or what, and just in case, he didnÕt want to step in where he wasnÕt welcome. Not that he wasnÕt used to stepping in where he wasnÕt welcome, but he wanted to start off on the right foot with her. Messing with a boyfriend wasnÕt that right foot.
He had three hours to accomplish what he had set out to do. They got there to set up at seven, but they had to be gone at ten, way before the Bronze was even set to close. That was what happened when your drummer got grounded. Of course, only this band would even think about starting off with three hours of music that had been heard only two weeks before. He was lucky to have as much time as he did. Oz would have stuck around just in case she showed up late, but of course, he had the van and he had to spend his night driving people home. He had three hours and that was it. But tonight was the night. He had to meet her.
As the first hour passed and the band played, Oz began to grow slightly discouraged. It was now eight oÕclock, and that girl hadnÕt shown up yet. Maybe heÕd been paying too much attention to the music to notice her come in. Yeah, right. None of them were paying too much attention to their music. That was why they had been sharping all night. This wasnÕt working.
His concentration was split from the music for about another fifteen minutes or so. At about 8:15, they got another break. The prerecorded music started playing over the speakers, and Oz hopped off the stage to head off into the crowd. Again, maybe that girl had come in when he wasnÕt looking. He wasnÕt about to even think that she might not come. HeÕd set himself up for this. Stay optimistic.
Oz wandered aimlessly through the crowd, trying to catch a glimpse of red hair somewhere. There werenÕt many redheads in the place, and those who were had probably gone to a bottle for help for that. It didnÕt look like she was anywhere in the crowd on the first floor, and he had scanned the dance floor thoroughly while still onstage, so she couldnÕt be there.
It hit just him then how ridiculous it was for him to be doing this. He was searching a crowded club full of teenagers during a ten-minute break on the slight chance that he might find and Òbump intoÓ certain girl that he could just as easily run into during school. Oz saw the lack of logic in this, then decided to check the upper level of the Bronze anyway.
When he had gotten about halfway up the stairs, Oz glanced at the stage and saw Devon and the others back up there, getting ready to start playing again. Had it been ten minutes already? Well, he thought, time flies when youÕre being obsessive. This would have to wait for later, and he would have to complain about not getting longer breaks later on. Disappointed, he turned right back around and went back onto the stage.
ÒAnd where did you go?Ó Devon asked as Oz slung the guitar over his shoulder.
ÒAround,Ó he answered shortly. Like he was going to tell Devon about what he was doing. He wasnÕt going to deal with prying of any kind. Besides, if Devon wasnÕt able to find out that girlÕs name, what use was he?
They continued to play, with Oz spending his breaks trying to find that girl somewhere on the premises. But by 9:45, he was pretty sure that girl wasnÕt going to show. She probably had something better to do, even though there was nothing to do in Sunnydale if you werenÕt at the Bronze. This was a stupid idea anyway. What was he thinking when he decided to do this? And why was he still dwelling on this when it was driving him crazy?
After that last song they got their instruments and their equipment and got ready to leave. Okay, so tonight was a bust. But maybe they could arrange a gig for next week... That would be a definite possibility. As Oz was kneeling on the stage to put his guitar back in its case, he just happened to look up, and his heart completely stopped for a second.
There she was.
She was wearing a light blue sweater with jeans, and it was good to see her in normal clothes. He had already seen her in an Eskimo costume and wearing leather on Halloween, and it was good to see her casually dressed. She was coming back from the bar, trying to carry three drinks back to her table, walking slowly so she didnÕt spill anything. She put two of the glasses on the table and sipped the last one herself as she sat down in a chair just slightly facing away from where Oz was. She was alone. This was his chance.
On impulse, he jumped off the stage to go talk to her. ÒHey, Oz, you want to help us here?Ó Devon yelled down.
ÒNot particularly,Ó he called over his shoulder.
Were his palms sweating? That wasnÕt supposed to happen. He couldnÕt get nervous about this. He wiped his hands on his jeans as he walked over to the table, stopping about twenty feet away from her. He wasnÕt going any further just yet.
She was with the possible boyfriend and a girl, a blond, who were trying to get her onto the dance floor. Each of them had one of her hands and they tried to pull her up from her chair, which she was trying desperately to stay in. ÒIÕm not going out there,Ó she said with a laugh. ÒIÕm serious. No way.Ó
The blond sighed and let go, the guy following her lead. ÒFine,Ó she said with mock indignation. ÒWe donÕt need you.Ó She linked arms with the guy, whose face immediately brightened. ÒCome on.Ó
ÒNote my relief,Ó she said as they left, but she was smiling.
Her friends went back to the dance floor, in clear sight, and Oz started back on his way. He was now behind her, at armÕs length. He stopped, took a deep breath and reached out his arm to tap her on the shoulder-
ÒFine,Ó she muttered with a sigh, and got up to go join her friends before Oz even had the chance to make a move. So close!
ÒOz!Ó Devon said from a few feet away. He was annoyed, but Oz didnÕt care. After all, who had the keys? ÒWe finished closing up without you. Ready to go?Ó
ÒRaring,Ó he grumbled, not looking forward to going. Five more minutes, the song would be over, and he would have another chance. He waved Devon off, watching that girl with her friends, looking uncomfortable, but ultimately perfect as she swayed a little, her personal way of dancing. She had to be the most flawless person on the face of this planet.
ÒWho is that girl?Ó he whispered with a smile, then turned to go back to his van.