HTML> Title: Willow Made Oz Sad, Let's Kick Her (1/1)
Author: Queena
E-mail: thessulah@aol.com
Rating: PG
Summary: To call or not to call. That is the question.
Disclaimer: Joss owns the characters in this fic. Not me. Please don't sue.
Author's Notes: This is the sixth part of my "Blood Pump" series.
Dedication: To Danny Masterson, just because he's hot and I'm in a weird mood.

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Just call him, damnit! He said he wanted you to. And it's not like I've never called a guy before. Heck, it's not even like I've never called *him* before. But that was before I knew I liked him. And exactly how long has it been since I've called a guy that I liked. Geez, a few good years.

Okay, that is it. I'm calling him RIGHT NOW! 555-7293. No, I can't do it! Beep. Coward.

What exactly am I afraid of? I'm the Slayer. I fight big, hairy evil every week and I can't even call a guy. Harmless, sweet, little Oz. God, Buffy, grow a backbone.

All right, I'm definitely going to call him now. 555-72----. No, wait, what am I going to say? "Hey thanks for the candy. Can I jump your bones?" Yeah, that'll go over well. But maybe it would. He seems to like me too. How can I really be sure, though? There was the kiss. Of course, that might not have meant anything. He *was* aiming for my cheek and it never would have happened if I hadn't turned my head. But why would he ask me to go to the icecapades with him if he didn't like me?

Okay, calling now. Bring! Oh, oh, oh. Maybe I don't have to. Maybe that's him. Please let it be him. Bring! One more ring. I don't want to seem too eager. Bring! "Hello." See? No, need to fear. Be calm.

"Hi, Buffy." Aaaaahhhh, it's just Willow. I should have known it wouldn't be him. "Willow! I was just thinking of calling you." A little white lie never hurt anyone.

"So, how's it going?" Terrible. "Oh, you know, it's going. How 'bout you?" But it is good to talk to her. It's been too long. And that's not just her fault either.

"I'm keeping busy with classes and stuff."

Ooo, time to pry. "Stuff being Xander?" Long silence. I'm sensing some tension.

"Actually, I haven't seen Xander for a while now." It's about time I got an answer from her. What, am I talking to myself again? Maybe I need to do that Slayer psyche test. At least, I never wanted to be a florist. "Why, exactly, is that, Willow?"

"Oh, you know, we're both pretty busy with school." Poor Willow, she always was a sucky liar.

"Is that so?"

"Yeah, so how's the slaying going?"

"Pretty swift subject change there, Will."

"How's Giles? I haven't talked to him for a while." Fine, she doesn't want to talk about, then I won't press it. I mean, I'm only her best friend. Why should she tell *me*?

"Giles is Giles. I'm lucky if I see him or Wesley through the sea of books they're constantly wading through."

"Ha! So, how's the new living arrangement going? Any lover's spats?"

"Well, you know them. I don't even understand why they moved into together. They can barely stand each other."

"But they can lay each other."

"There's not ‘each other' about it. Giles can totally take Wesley, he's a wuss. I've actually seen him do it once, when Wesley claimed that Giles had become too American. You should have seen the look on Wesley's face. And Giles got that Ripper gleam in his eyes. He looked positively Ripper."

"Oh, I'll bet Wesley doesn't mind too much when Giles takes him."

"Like he could do anything about it. Giles has the definite upper hand."

"Yeah, he's definitely the man of that house, all right. So, again I ask, how's the slay-scene?"

"Oh, you know, patrolling every night. Killing vamps, saving virgin sacrifices, which is weird since I didn't think LA had any virgins, kicking the crap out of vermiscious kinids. All in a day's work."

"A vermiscious wha-huh?"

"Nevermind, long story."

"So, uh, have you, uh, talked to O-Oz lately?" Oh Gods, should would have to go there, wouldn't she? What am I supposed to say to her? Should I tell her that I like him and that I think he likes me too? If I do, it will definitely hurt her. She and Oz didn't exactly part on the best of terms. But then, if I don't tell her and things get serious, she'll find out anyway and she'll be even more hurt. And how would I tell her anyway? ‘Will, I'm lusting after your ex-boyfriend. Ya know, the one you still have feelings for. So, seen any good movies lately?'

"Buffy?" Shit, I spaced for too long.

"Sorry, what?"

"Oz? Have you talked to him lately?"

"Oh, yeah. Oz. Well, we have clas--" Knock! Knock! Knock! "Hold for a min, Will."

"Yeah!" Ohmigod, speak of the devil. Now, doesn't he have impeccable timing? What the hell is he doing here? God, I look like shit. Hurry, scan for any underclothes laying around. Whew! Seems clear.

"Hey, your mom said to come right up. It's not a bad time is it?" Sigh. You have no idea.

"Um, no. Can you just give me a minute?" Now, how do I get rid of Willow without alerting her to Oz?

"Hey, I'm back. Listen, Will--"

"Is that Oz? I thought I heard Oz's voice in the background."

NO! It's not Oz. It's um, um, um, "Um, yeah?" Stupid! Why'd you tell her?!

"Oh, why's he there?"

"I don't' know. I haven't had the chance to ask him yet."

"Can I, uh, what I mean is, do you think I could talk to him?"

"I don't know, Will. Don't you think that's a little like rubbing salt in the wound?" My wound. Hey, why is it that every time a guy comes in my room he gets totally fascinated by Mr. Gordo? Well, Xander wasn't. He was always more interested in what was in my refrigerator.

"I uh, well, could you ask him? Please, Buffy?" Oh, God. How can resist that voice? But does he want to talk to her? I feel bad about it, but I hope not. "Let me ask."

"It's Willow. She wants to talk to you. But you don't have to if you don't want to. Say the word and I'll get rid of her. I'm sure she'll understand." Just say the word, please, ‘cause I don't think I can take much more of that heart-breaking look. God, he always gets that look whenever someone mentions her name. Ugh, he must still really love her.

"I.....uh....I don't....um."

"Hey, it's okay. If you don't, I'm sure she'll understand." And if she doesn't, then tough noogies.

"No she won't. I'll talk to her." Okay, now if I can just bring myself to give him the phone. Oh, but I don't want to. I want to hang up and find out why he came her to see me. But I suppose he'll be all sad and stuff after I hang up anyway.

"Willow."

God, when he says her name it's like he's taking his last breath. I wonder if he could ever feel that way about me. I doubt it, most people find it hard not to burst into hysterics when they say my name. Why did my parents have to call me Buffy? Why could they give me a cool Willow-y name? Well, at least I've never had a high teacher call me Little Tree.

"I'm fine. You?"
She's miserable. She wants you back. And you probably want her back too. Oh, how miserable am I?

"Yeah."
Yeah, what? Jesus, I wish I knew what they were talking about.

"Well, we're friends."

Who are friends? Them? Us? Who, damnit?

"Not a lot."
I'm not listening. If I don't listen then I won't be tortured.

"No."
I'm not listening. I'm NOT listening. Yeah, I'll just look at this here stake. Yeah, it has really interesting grooves and stuff.

"I miss you too."

Of course he does. She's Willow.

"Do you want to talk to Buffy?" Psshh, why would she want to talk to me? You're here.

"Hey, Will." Great, you made him all sad. Thanks a lot, Willow.

"Hey, um, I have a paper due tomorrow, so I should go. I'll talk to you later?"

"You know it. Give my love to Xander." Did he just flinch? Great, now I feel bad. "Bye."

"Bye." Beep. Swell, now he's being all quiet. And he won't even turn around to look at me. I hope he's not crying. What do I do now? I wonder why he came here in the first place. A hug. He needs a hug. Hugs always make me feel better when I'm down. I'll just hug him. I won't even make him turn around. He must not mind too much since he's leaning back into me. But I feel bad because I can't stop thinking about how warm he is or how good it feels to have his back pressed against my chest. Or to hear his heartbeat pumping a little faster than usual. To think how funny it is that my face fits so well in the nook between his neck and his shoulder. I wonder what he'd do if I kissed his neck. Bad, Buffy. No thinking about smoochies when he's all sad. Just be Comfort Gal. Ooooohh, no don't pull away. Don't shut me out. Or this works too. Yay, it feels better when we're both facing each other. Now we can hold each other. And his arms feel so good around me. Mmmmm, this is nice. I haven't been held in sooooooo long. "I'm sorry."

"Sorry about what?"
"I didn't have to tell her you were here."
"It's okay. I wouldn't expect you to lie for me."
"But you didn't want to talk to her."
"Not really."
"I'm sorry." Oh, oh, is he going to kiss me? Please, oh please, oh please, oh please. "You say that too much." NO! Don't pull away. Don't let go of my hand. "I need to go now. I have some stuff I have to think about." Sigh.

"You have to do that guy thing where you bail? Well, I'll see you later."

"Will you call me?"

"Sure."

"Promise."

"Ha, ha, ha. I promise. Now go." Or don't.

"Bye."

"Bye." I wonder why he was here in the first place. Well, maybe I'll ask him when I call him. If I ever get the nerve to.

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The end