hi fellow readers, heres a story i started a long time ago, but i never really finished. i need some ideas and to get more excited about this one so that i can finish it so please R&R

DISCLAIMER: don't own anything Buffy therefore not profiting off anything, any original charadters though are mine... thopugh, i may rent them out to those who what to borrow them... you have to ask first though.

Short fic.

Dedicated to all the people affected by WW2. In honor of VE day.

UN-SUNG HEROES

Oz walked down the bike littered streets of Amsterdam. There was the strong scent of cooking

fish and pastry in the air as he passed a bunch of carts selling everything from smoked eel to

cinnamon smelling pastries. He had parked his van and decided to walk a while before leaving the

Netherlands and finishing is trip across Europe. He entered a larger square, it had cobblestone

streets and he frowned at the huge buildings all around him. A woman almost ran him over with

her bike, and she yelled something over her shoulder in Dutch. He had no idea what she had said.

He only really knew a couple of words, he was normally an OK linguist but he wasn't good with

all the rolling of the R's and the throat noises. He was pretty sure he wouldn't want to hear what

she had said anyways. He re-adjusted his guitar on his shoulder and kept walking.

He ended up sitting on the edge of a small fountain, guitar case in front of him, strumming

something or other. He needed the cash, he had no Euros left and only about 50$ American.

Luckily most people tipped a bit and he was able to go into a near by pub and order something.

He ended up choosing the local demon hotspot. He found himself a small table and looked over

the menu. It was a very good thing English was their second language. He thought to himself as he

picked up a menu full or weird and exotic fare. He raised his eyebrows at the selection among

things like curly fries and chicken wings there were things like poodle ears and quagulated blood

balls. He paused at the entree of werewolf steak, and wondered idly, what kind of sauce would

go with that. The only thing he found that looked mildly appetizing and familiar is French fries.

Greasy potatoes it is. He thought as he signaled the bar tender and pointed to what he wanted on

the menu. A band was playing on stage; they weren't bad, he thought to himself. He sat quietly in

the corner and took the little place it. There was a cloud of blue cigarette smoke over top of

everything. Most of the people were vampires and demons. On in particular caught his attention, it

had 2 huge horns on his head and was a blackish green colour. Oz stared for a second before

moving on. Suddenly his senses went crazy and Oz found that there was another werewolf in the

room. He scanned the room again and his eyes finally landed on a short figure leaning over a glass

of amber coloured liquid. The smell was more of a female smell. She was dressed in a long brown

leather coat, with her hood over her head. Oz stared for a second throwing around the thought of

going over there. To his surprise she sat up taller, and seemed to sense something as well. Oz

shook his head wondering what he was thinking. He couldn't even speak with her, as he walked

across the room and toward the empty barstool beside her. When he got there, he sighed and sat

down. She didn't bother looking over at him before she said something in Dutch. She didn't sound

happy. "Um, hi yourself." Oz said mentally hitting himself on the head for even walking over

towards her. When he said this, she turned to face him. Oz almost jumped out of his chair with

surprise, she was old. Her face was brown and wind blown, the wrinkles went deep. Her snow-

white hair was braided and went down one side of her chest. But the most striking thing about her

were her eyes, they were a bright clear green, Not the eyes of an old woman but eyes of a smart

mind that hasn't deteriorated over the years. Oz stared for a few seconds before he said. "Why

are you here?" In a thick accented English. Oz shrugged. "On vacation." He said. "Where are you

from?" she asked. Oz shrugged and told her he was from California. She looked relieved at this

and turned around to look him over a few times… Oz felt like he was in a zoo. She looked cranky

and he started to wonder if he should leave. He was just about to get up when she spoke again.

"What's your name?" she asked gruffly. Oz now felt as if he were being questioned in one of those

white rooms with the hot lamp sweaty police officer and the mirror that wasn't really a mirror.

"Well apparently in your language I'm "horloge het stomme miniatuur" Oz said saying what the

woman on the bike had snapped at him before. The sides of the woman's mouth twitched with

amusement. "So your name is watch it blind midget?" She asked. Oz was close to a smile also.

"So that's what she said… and all that time I thought she was hitting on me…" he said trying to

lighten the situation. The Woman frowned. "You can call me Oz" Oz said after a moment. The

woman raised her eyebrows and waited a while before she said. "Margaret." Oz frowned, "I

should get back to my fries." He said not knowing what else to say, he got up and was about to

start walking when he felt a hand of his shoulder. "Stay a while." The woman said without turning

around. Oz probably would have kept going if it weren't for the twinge of loneliness in her voice, it

was so much like he felt. Oz stopped and sat back down and ordered a beer… well at least he

thought he ordered a beer, he wasn't really sure what exactly what he had said, but was pretty

contented when the bartender came back with the right thing. He sat there and stared into the

amber liquid, he looked up when he felt someone looking at him. He turned around and the

woman was inspecting him again. "You can…?" she asked letting her voice trail away. Oz raised

his eyebrows; her senses must be perfect… he thought before nodding. The woman nodded her

approval. "How long…?" she asked. "4 and a half years…" Oz answered turning to face her. She

looked impressed. Oz was getting tired of this and asked some questions of his own. "Is there a

cheap hotel around here?" he asked hoping he wouldn't have to spend another night in his van.

The woman sighed and shook her head. Oz put a hand through his hair. "No where?" he asked.

The woman shook her head again. It was quiet for a second before she said, "you can stay with

me." She seemed annoyed Oz thought, but accepted the offer anyways; even a cranky old lady

was better than another night in the van.

Chap 2 is coming somepoint, i need to get more into this one. i have a bunch of fics going right now so reviews and ideas would really help for this one! please REVIEW!