TITLE: A Curiosity Thing

AUTHOR: Magpie

RATING: G

DISCLAIMER: Not mine, never were, all Joss's

SUMMARY: Just something I had roaming about in my head, that I wrote as a celebration for finishing half my microbiology coursework. And, since I still have a whole bunch of stuff left to do (including counting 4 practical write ups and work on the Marmite and sex project for genetics (really, it's a lot less interesting than it sounds) I thought rather than do any real work, I'd write some fanfic instead. Dedicated to Queena, 'cause, well, 'cause she's Queena, Nicollette, 'cause she's written some really good stuff recently, and Juniper1 because I really like her work. It's a short little piece of nothing, a B/O piece not in any series, but feedback always asked for and always appreciated, even the flames.



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Fortunately, we were sitting down when Buffy said it. Taking a five-minute break from patrolling, sitting on one of the park benches. There are so many little things that make Sunnydale different that I didn't see until I went away after the Veruca incident. Empty benches are one of them. You go to LA, or New York or even the next town over, and after dark you tend to get the benches occupied by homeless people, runaways, and people that just didn't manage to stagger home after a night out. Sunnydale and the benches remain clear at night. Understandable, since parks are prime vamp ground. It's not a big difference, but it's there.

My mind's wandering. This is understandable too. "When you say you have a thing for me, or about me, do you mean like, a thing where you don't think I'm right for Willow and that's why we shouldn't get back together, or a totally platonic, friendship thing," I take a breath, and go on, "or a, I've been having NC17 fantasies about what I could do with me, you and a jar of humus?"

"A friendship thing, definitely a friendship thing," Buffy rushes to say, and before I can wonder whether to be relieved or disappointed, she goes on. "Just not a totally platonic friendship thing. On my part anyway. And not a, I'm having to physically stop myself from tearing off your clothes and doing the nasty on this bench either. Really it's just a curiosity thing."

She's not looking at me; she's looking at our feet. We're sitting close together, not relationship close, just it's cold out tonight close, which means that she's looking at my feet too. My mind drags itself back from the park bench image long enough to regret not having on better trainers.

"A curiosity thing. Which means…" I ask, though half of me's still hooked on the park bench idea. I'm gonna have that stuck in my head for weeks. Well, it beats flashbacks of the Mayor.

"You know, like when you're in a queue or waiting at the bus stop and you see a guy and he's pretty cute and you just wonder what they'd be like in bed, and if they taste as good as they smell, and maybe it goes a little more than that and you start getting curious about what they'd look like when they're half naked and if they'd take their time until you're half out of you mind and screaming or it'd just be wild and fast." Buffy's talking has just gone over the edge into babbling. She's talking faster and faster and now I know she's staring at my shoes. Her arms are crossed around her, and she looks embarrassed and cold and I can taste the pheromones on the air.

After a little break she starts talking again, slower, still not looking at me above the knee. "Sorry, that was probably a little too much information. But that's why I don't think I'm in a position to say whether or not you should try again with Willow or date the new bartender at the Bronze 'cause I'm not totally unbiased here. And I just though I should tell you before you get involved with anyone else or anything."

"A curiosity thing." I repeat, 'cause my mind stopped working about half way through this conversation. I shift a little, uncomfortable with the realisation that Buffy's little speech has made me hard. "What… Why are you telling me now?"

"You're pretty much living on my couch, and I thought that maybe you should know. I mean, I didn't want you to find out later and think I was only being your friend 'cause I wanted to sleep with you. And you don't have to do anything about this, I know you probably never really though of me in that way, I just didn't want to have any false pretences or whatever between us."

"Buffy, I don't know what to say." I start to speak, trying to organize my thoughts. It seems wrong somehow,to not be honest when Buffy's just put herself through this self inflicted honesty. "I have, y'know. Thought about you like that. Or wondered. But not in the way where I ever thought there was the slightest possibility I'd actually find out. But I don't…"

"You don't want me." Buffy cuts in. Her voice is tiny, and she's shrunk in on herself. It's scary, watching this. Buffy's one of those people who usually projects herself about ten feet from her body, just by force of personality. Watching her make herself small is almost painful. Unnatural.

"Buffy, I'm a guy. Of course I want you. I don't know how to tell you this, but almost everyone with a Y chromosome in Sunnydale has thought about you at least once. And a pretty hefty chunk of the XX-ers too," I say without thinking. "Even Spike said that if he was human he'd fancy you."

Buffy blinks. "Well that's a mental image I could do without," she says, that nice little smile just starting to lift her lips. Then she shakes herself, and loses the smile. "Oz, just 'cause you think someone's sexy doesn't mean you want to find out. It's like, you can think a guy's really hot on screen, but you wouldn't want to date them in real life. And if that's what you mean, then that's Ok, and I don't want to pressure you, I just thought…"

"I should know." I finish. I turn slightly to look at her. Starting from her toes, moving slowly up her body to her head and then back down again.

It's the sort of slow checking out that I've always thought was pretty insulting, but Buffy doesn't object, though I know she's verbally shredded other guys for doing this. She shivers slightly, and I know it's not the cold. The details of her body are lost beneath the thick winter coat she wears, but memory makes up for lack of sight. Buffy wearing that one-piece swim suit when we all went down to the beach last summer… I slathered so much sun block on Will, there wasn't enough for me and I ended up going for the boiled lobster look. Buffy, of course tanned golden, gave me a bunch of heavy-duty moisturisers to use so I wouldn't peel too.

Moving up to her face, which is about the only part of her I can see clearly, my eyes stop on her mouth. She licks her lips nervously, and I can feel myself getting harder watching. Damn, I'm gonna have trouble walking home tonight. I force myself to look away from her mouth to her eyes. Not really hazel, not really grey or green. Pupils dilated, and I can almost taste the desire, the curiosity on the air. My mind slowly whirrs from the previous mindset of Buffy as Willow's friend and someone I'd never be able to sleep with even if I did think she was feather boas and the theme from a Summer Place hot, to the knew knowledge that Buffy was actually a possibility.

Someone I could, in real life, sleep with. No longer up there with the unattainable fantasies.

In the end, I make the first move without thinking. Somehow my head's started moving and my mouth's found Buffy's and wow, I guess this is the first kiss and maybe it's gonna be the only one too, but that's something for the future to decide and here and now, I'm just gonna enjoy this moment. Her mouth is warm, and I can taste the lipstick left over from the day on it. Not a pleasant taste, I guess, but I've always found it sexy… I flick my tongue along the lips, letting the mixture of taste and touch fill my mind. She opens her mouth slightly, letting me in. My mouths slanted across hers, and I'm mentally cataloguing everything I can feel and taste, but our bodies aren't touching at all. Her hands are still crossed, mine still by my sides, making this chaste almost, from the neck down. I start to lean further across, my hands moving to touch her…

And that, of course, is when the vamp chooses to jump out from the bush and attack the couple making out on the bench. Buffy reacts instantly, and a quick bit of violence followed by some trademark witty repartee, turns the vamp into something you can pick up with a vacuum. Buffy looks up from where the body was a second ago. I can see the shock in her face, delayed reaction to making out with her best friends ex making its appearance. "Oz, I, we…"

"Yeah. Pretty much." I answer. "So…"

"Yes, it is." And I'm 50 % sure that Buffy understands about as much of this I do, because we've both got the look of what-do-I-do-now firmly entrenched on our faces. "Vampires have no sense of timing." She says, absently. "I think, I need to think now. And that's gonna be easier if I'm not around you, so maybe we should just…" She trails off.

"I'll crash with Devon tonight," I say, moving to pick up my bag. "And I'll see you… when I see you." When I've decided what to do with this, when I can think sensibly and when I've used up the cold water supply for the whole of California.

Buffy nods and we both head home.