Devon pulled open the back doors to Oz's van, sighing in relief when he took
in the sight of the new furnishings Oz had just acquired for his vehicle. A
bean bag loveseat and a bean bag chair, with a back and everything. The floor
had also recently been lined with bathroom rugs, black and burgundy to match
the bean bag furnishings. Oz could be a stickler for color coordination. He
also had a cushion from one of those round chairs, propped up against the
driver's seat.

Falling onto his hands and knees, Devon crawled over the plush carpeting,
digging his fingers into the soft shag. It was much nicer than the comforters
that Oz had been using before.

Buffy and Oz watched from the open doors, leaning against each other for
support, as Devon sluggishly fell over onto the little loveseat. Twisting
himself onto his left side, Devon looked out at them. "So, who want to join
me on my seat o' lurve?" he asked, waggling his eyebrows.

Oz smirked at his friend, before gesturing for Buffy to go on in first. She
too crawled in, and Oz felt his eyes bulge at the sight of her firm backside
swaying right before his eyes. He tried to look away, really he did, but he
*was* a man after all, contrary to what some people may have believed. Oz
forced himself to look away, as he climbed into the van and shut the double
doors. Turning back to the others, he noticed that Buffy had sprawled herself
unceremoniously in the bean bag chair right across from Devon. It was a damn
good thing that she was wearing pants tonight, cause if she weren't, he and
Devon both would be getting a show that you couldn't even get at a strip club
without purchasing a bottle of champagne.

Oz's destination was the empty cushion at the front of the van, but as he
measured the distance, he realized it was hopelessly far away. Instead, he
crawled over to the loveseat and dumped Devon's feet on the floor to make
room for himself. "Damnit, Oz! You're fucking up my zen!" Devon complained
and pulled his feet back up to rest them on Oz's lap. Oz smirked, falling to
the side so that the his upper left side was sprawled all over Devon.

The alcoholic haze in Oz's head pretty much kicked all of his inhibitions out
of the door. Somewhere in the back of his head, he knew he should *not* have
gotten drunk in front of Buffy, because that meant letting her see the side
of him that he reserved for his nights with Devon. Unfortunately, no other
side was registering in his rose tinted mind at the moment. The only thing
that *was* registering was the feel of Devon's hot skin through the thin
material of his shirt, the ridges of his rib cage pressed under his cheek,
the curve of muscle on Devon's shoulder, pressing into his forearm. The tips
of Devon's fingers were dancing through Oz's hair, gently massaging his
scalp and causing a small tremor of pleasure to ripple through him.

Oz looked over the short distance of the darkly lit van, his gaze traveling
from Buffy's bare feet, up her lycra encased legs, stopped to admire the toned
flatness of her exposed abdomen with the perfect little, inny belly button.
He squeezed his eyes shut for just a second and when they opened he was
staring at the little cleft of cleavage over the collar of Buffy's shirt. Her
breasts rose and fell with her deep breathing and his gaze traveled further
up to her moist, parted lips. Horribly nasty thoughts entered his mind at
that moment and he was incredibly grateful that Devon's legs were still
draped over his lap.

Through partially slitted lids, Buffy looked at the two men across from her.
Even through her liquor addled brain she was aware that there was something
a little more than friendly about the cool familiarity between the two of
them. Most teenage boys didn't consider cuddling in the back of a dark van a
guy thing.

After the initial annoyance wore off and she had a few drinks in her, Buffy
had taken a few moments to really examine Devon. She had listened to the
girls in the bathroom prattle on about how hot he was and, wow, he was a lead
singer. But, being completely wrapped up in Angel for the past couple of
years, she had never taken the time to appreciate the egocentric singer.
Dissecting his features one by one, you wouldn't really see anything to swoon
over. His nose was slightly crooked, his jaw a little too sharp and his eyes
a bit too small, but roll them all up together and they certainly did make
for an interesting package. Not that she was checking him out or anything.

Mostly her attention had been focused on Oz all night. She rarely got the
chance to observe him away from the group, so she had taken every chance
during the night to study him. There were few changes in him tonight, but the
few were drastic. He spoke a lot more, and some of the things he said were
downright crude. Mostly, though she hated even admitting it to herself, the
changes she had noticed were physical. Actually, they couldn't even be
construed as changes since they were probably there all along, she just
hadn't noticed. Oh, sure, she could take one look at the guy and her 'hottie
alert' would go off, but there was more to it than that.

As a Slayer, she had to rely a lot on her senses and because of it, they were
incredibly heightened. Oz had an incredibly unique scent to him, sort of
spicy, that made her spide-y sense go all wiggy on her. It screamed of
power. And the way he moved, slowly but fluidly, very poised and, yet again,
strong. When he spoke, she paid close attention to the sound of his voice,
coming out in a deep rumble, flat and straight-forward, thick and sardonic,
as if he was always amused by something, even when he was worried. All in all,
Oz made for an extremely attractive figure. Which wasn't good, because he was
Willow's boyfriend. Not that
Willow shouldn't have an attractive boyfriend, she just shouldn't have an
attractive boyfriend that Buffy, herself, was attracted to.

A short silence had fallen over the small group. Devon playing distractedly
with Oz's hair, Oz staring through the dark at the slope of Buffy's neck, and
Buffy trying hard to regulate her breathing. The silence was deafening, it
had to end. "Ya know," Buffy began. "you guys look pretty comfortable over
there. Either you're both really comfortable in your sexuality or there's
something huge about Oz that Willow doesn't know......or hasn't told *me*."

"There's a lot about Oz that Willow doesn't know," Devon said, his head
rolling to one side to look Buffy in the eye.

"Devon," Oz warned. "Don't be bad."

"You like it when I'm bad," Devon said, blowing Oz off with a casual smirk.
"Ya know, Buffy, I know a lot of secrets about Oz. Would you like to hear
one?"

Buffy hesitated for a moment, looking to Oz for his disapproval, but saw no
readable expression on his face. He didn't protest, so she said, "Sure." She
had tried to fight back the choked sound to her voice, but she couldn't help
it.