Summary: Oz is a bit surprised at what Willow admits to
·◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊· CONFESSIONS ·◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊·
I'm not a violent guy. I mean back in the day, I used to help out on patrol but even then, it was mostly fighting with crosses and holy water with a crossbow mostly for the threat rather than actual use.
I don't dig violence although I do understand that in the world we live in, too often, violence is needed.
Even with the wolf inside me, the human part of me would rather avoid violence if possible while the wolf part of me hungers for it, but twice now, my human half struck out without benefit of the wolf.
Once, I killed someone; a human-werewolf hybrid just like me. I struck out at her for threatening to hurt Willow and even though I changed not long after, it was still my human half that was in control when.
The second time happened a few minutes ago when I socked that dumbass in the deli. The manager came over quickly and after explaining what happened, the guys were thrown out with threats of calling the cops but I knew the real reason why they left in a hurry. The shop was alive with the scents of simmering soups and fresh cuts of meat, warm baked bread and fear; they were afraid, just as they should have been and unbeknownst to me, I was still growling low and dark and deep in my throat, the touch of Willow's hand the only thing to soothe both man and beast.
As we sat down to eat, I worried that I might have upset her, her silence the past few minutes seeming to stretch into an eternity. I noticed out of the corner of my eye that she was looking at me out of the corners of hers, and the anxiety settled deeper into the pit of my stomach. Finally, her nature got the better of her and she turned to look at me.
"You were growling!" and my anxiety lifted when her grin spread from ear to ear, her eyes shining and I couldn't help but smile back at her.
"Yeah. That happens sometimes."
Blushing, she ducked her head for a moment, taking a sip of her drink before looking at me beneath her lashes, her voice softer; more breathy.
"I think it's kind of sexy."
Overcome with the sudden need to kiss her, I lean over, pressing my lips to her temple before whispering in her ear, "Then I'll make sure to do it around you more often." And her cheeks are stained as pink as the raspberry soda she was sipping.
"You defended me to that jerk that was all grabby with the hands." She seemed almost surprised and I couldn't really blame her. She's only seen me get violent once before, and I've already told you how that turned out.
"He hurt you," I said matter of factly.
"You do know that I could have defended myself though, right?" she asked, turning to look at me once more.
"I do. I'm sorry if my hitting him bothered you, Will. I just—"
"It's ok. I mean I don't want you to go around beating everyone up all the time or anything… but it was kind of nice, being defended," and she smiled softly at me before leaning over and kissing me on my nose; my heart flip-flopping in my chest at the tenderness in her marbled eyes.
"Check. No more beating up people unless it's ok with you first."
I watched her as she opened her packets of crackers, taking out two and crushing them up on top of her chicken soup. Her cracker limit was four from what I remembered and I wasn't disappointed to find that that little habit of hers still hadn't changed as she added two more before stirring the broken bits around, mixing them in along with the chunks of carrot and celery and various other ingredients of her soup before taking a bite.
We ate in easy silence for a bit, she with her cup of soup and half a BLT and me with my rare roast beef on wheat with horseradish mayo and it felt normal, comforting, as if we had been doing this our whole lives rather than just finding each other again after three years.
Three years. God, has it really been three years? Sometimes it seemed as if I had only left her in the other room. Other times it felt more like three life lifetimes.
After most of our lunch was consumed, she turned to me once more, her eyes becoming more serious.
"Oz? Have you ever thought about maybe getting in touch with the wolf inside of you, like maybe learning how to work with it and tame it rather than constantly trying to control it?"
"I've thought about it. There was this Shaman in North Dakota last year who talked about how it could be done. Some sort of spirit-walk kind of thing where he would go into some sort of meditative deep trance and enter the mind of the other guy and help them get in touch with their inner animal. All very mind-trippy."
"Oh! Oh! I could do it! I could help you! I had to do something like that with Buffy last year. Remember when I told you about the Hell-God, Glory? Well before Buffy did the big leap thing, when Dawn was first kidnapped, Buffy went catatonic and I had to do a mind-meld when I went inside of her to help bring her back to reality."
"Well aren't you versatile-girl," and she grinned at me, her smile bordering on temptress as her eyebrow quirked upwards.
"You have no idea." And I felt the heat from her stare shoot straight to the pit of my stomach. Unfortunately, Devon chose that moment to make his presence known.
"Oz, man, we are up shit's creek! Your van bottomed out, and I mean that literally, on the way over here. Oh! Hey Willow. It's been awhile."
·◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊· FINIS ·◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊×◊·
Thank you for reading.
Ruari
