Title: Tickling Match (1/1)
Author: Queena
E-mail: thessulah@aol.com
Rating: NC-17
Summary: I wouldn't want to spoil it for you. Here's a hint. It O/B.
Feedback: Give it to me, baby. Uh huh, uh huh.
Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters used in this story. They belong to Joss Whedon, the WB and Mutant Enemy.
Author's Notes: This is *not* a part of my "Blood Pump" series. It's me bored with nothing better to do.

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Buffy sat in the nearly desserted coffee shoppe staring down into her triple shot iced mocha. She used her red stir-thingy to stab at the dissolving ice cubes that floated to the top. She was unbelievably lonely and bored, but what did she expect? I *was* two o' clock in the morning . And she *was* the Slayer. Lonliness was pretty much in the job desription. Or written the handbook or something. And why had she never been introduced to this elusive handbook? It seemed that every vampire or so-called myth that she came up against mentioned the damned thing to her.

She jerked out of her thoughts when the jingle of the bell above the coffee shoppe door rang. She looked up from her mocha and saw Devon enter with two pretty girls flanking him. The rest of the band was close behind, each with pretty girls of their own. Oz brought up the rear of the line, he too with a girl at his side. However, this girl looked slightly disappointed and it contrasted nicely against the glowing faces of her friends. Buffy didn't feel bad for her though. If the girl even had half of a brain, maybe Oz would grace her with a word or two. Unfortunately for her, vapidness wasn't a big turn-on for Oz.

A small smile graced her face when she saw the bored look on Oz's face. He too had a bum deal. Apart from being a werewolf and having lost his true love, he was doomed to follow a crowd that he held practically no respect for, all for the love of music and appearances sake.

"Oz!" she called to him, raising her hand to wave him over when he turned to face her.

Buffy actually *saw* him sigh in relief and chuckled to herself. He turned to the girl that was still standing at his side. "There," he pointed to Buffy, "is my friend. I must go to her. Now." With that he turned and headed for Buffy's booth, leaving the girl behind to glare at his back.

Oz slid into the seat across from Buffy and buried his head in his hands with exasperation. "Two hours with a girl and the most useful thing to come from her mouth was to inform me that Neaman Marcus was only a two hour drive from here," he moaned, his voice muffled by his hands.

Buffy winced at an old memory before brushing if off to laugh at Oz's distress. "Well, at least someone finds my pain amusing," he said dryly after pulling his hands away from his face.

"Begging your pardon, sir," Buffy said sarcastically and bowed her head in mock shame.

"What brings you here at this ungodly hour?" Oz asked and reached across the table to steal her coffee and take a drink. They had learned at a late night research party that they both liked the same caffinated beaverage. And -on many other such occasions- various other things about each other.

"Ugh," Buffy groaned at the mention of the hour. "One of the quirks of being the Slayer. Graveyard shift. Literally. Ever since I graduated and I don't have that pesky school thing to interfere with my slaying duties, Giles and Wesley have had me up later and later. I'm lucky to see an hour of the sun in a day. I'm starting to feel like one of the things I fight nightly."

"Me too," Oz nodded knowingly. "Except for the whole killing things part. Being in a band basically means I need to keep late hours, but I don't mind. I'm a night person."

Buffy found herself smiling at him again. In the passed few months, she and Oz had a few good conversations. The first one almost frightened her as much as surprised her. Though, Willow had informed her that Oz wasn't quite as nonverbal as Buffy believed, it was quite the shock to find that it was true. But it was definitely a pleasant shock. In their past conversations, Oz had spoken a minimum of ten full sentences, but mostly just listened while she prattled on.

Buffy cringed slightly when she felt, as well as saw, Devon slide into the booth next to her. She glanced over at his table to see the two girls he had come in with shooting her icy glares as he stared drunkenly down into her cleavage. "Buffy, now isn't this a pleasant surprise. So, what are you guys over here talking about," Devon asked Oz.

"We were just grieving for your parents," Oz replied with a casual wave of his hand.

"You're so fucking funny when you talk, man," Devon laughed half-heartedly, then he leaned closer to Buffy to whisper conspiratorily in her ear. "That's why I keep him around."

"Really, and I thought it was his boyish good looks," Buffy said, switching her voice to a cheery valley girl's. However, her frown did not match her cheery persona.

"Ya know what, Dev?" Oz asked as he stood. "We were actually just leaving. So move." Devon raised his eyebrows at the snippish tone of Oz's voice - well as snippish as the laid back guitar player could ever sound - but got up to let Buffy out of the booth. She quickly stood and went to stand at Oz's side.

"Cool, man, but uh....don't wait up for me," Devon threw a glance over his shoulder to the two girls, who quickly smiled back at him. He wriggled his eyebrows at Oz before turning to head back to his table.

"Is he evil?" Buffy asked, leaning closer to Oz as they stared at his best friend.

"Yep," Oz answered before taking hold of her elbow to lead her out of the coffee shoppe.

When they got to Oz's van, he opened the passenger side door for Buffy, who didn't question him before getting in. No, she waited until he was comfortably seated behind the steering wheel to ask, "Care to tell me where we're headed?"

Oz started the engine and pulled away from the curb before answering. "My place."

"Aw, and if you had told me I would have donned my sexy underwear," Buffy joked. Oz turned to her and quirked an eyebrow, but quickly turned back to the road without commenting. The look in his eye, when it had briefly locked with hers, made her tremble uncertainly. She couldn't place the emotion he held in the depth of his green eyes, but this wasn't the first time her body had reacted to his quiet gaze. She was more than a little ashamed to find herself melting into his eyes on more than one occasion. It was a scary thing for the young Slayer to feel. The only even semi-lusty thoughts she had ever had were for Angel and David Duchovney. Plus, the 'only friends rule' applied in this case since Oz was Willow's ex-boyfriend. And he so wasn't Buffy's type. That meaning he wasn't a tall, undead creature of the night named Angel. But Angel wasn't allowed to be hers anymore and Buffy had been starting to wonder exactly what 'type' of human guy she was now into.

"And what will we be doing in your den o' love?" Buffy asked, picking at her nails absent-mindedly. She had broken another one on her patrol that night. It really pissed her off when that happened. She had shoved her thoughts about her body's reaction to Oz aside quickly. It was what needed to be done when she was around him. She just couldn't face the fact that she was becoming more and more attracted to him because that just couldn't happen.

"Well, Dev and I rented "Prom Night", "Evil Dead 2" and "Waxwork", three of the all time greatest cheesy horror flicks, but I still haven't had a chance to watch them," Oz said, shrugging.

"Coolness," Buffy commented and settled into her seat for the short ride.

As soon as she was settled, Oz pulled into the driveway of the house that he shared with Devon and Mike, the drummer in their band. Before Buffy could even register that they had already arrived at their destination, Oz was out of the van and opening her door for her. "Well, thank you," she said, accepting his proferred hand and jumping out.

For a moment they just stood facing each other, mere inches apart, before Oz turned and lead her to the door. He didn't let go of her hand as he unlocked the door and stepped in, flicking the lights on in the living room. "Ignore the mess, since it's not mine," Oz said. Buffy did as he told her until she got something stuck to her shoe. He stopped while she tried to kick it off but the thing was good and stuck. Trying a different approach, Buffy stomped on it with her other foot and pulled away. The thing came off, but her eyes widened with disgust when she realized that it was a pair of female panties. "Oh, traumatized," she squeaked as Oz tugged on her hand to lead her out of the room.

He guided her through a short, dark hallway before stopping in front of a door that she could bearly make out in the darkness. She heard a jingle and the sound of a key being slid into a lock. "You lock your bedroom?" she asked with amusement as he got the door open. He left her standing in the middle of the room while he went to his nightstand to flick on the small lamp that sat atop it.

"If you saw the element that flows in and out of this house, you would too," he said and went back over to his door to shut and deadbolt it.

"I hope their all at least human," she said and looked around his room. There was a queen sized mattress on the floor with black sheets and comforter, a milkcrate with a twelve inch TV on top and a VCR on top of that. Band and movie posters covered his walls along with little glow-in-the-dark stars and planet stickers. A black light was mounted in one of the corners. Other than that there was a dresser with a CD player and CDs scattered on the top. A short nightstand was on the side of the mattress that wasn't pressed against the wall. Aside from being Spartan, the room was tidy and quite comfy looking.

"Make yourself as comfortable as possible," Oz said, moving to the VCR to stick a tape in. Buffy did as she was told and kicked her shoes off before sprawling out on the mattress with a large stack of pillows to support her head. "So, what's first on the agenda?" she asked.

""Evil Dead 2". Basically a movie that no teenager should go without seeing at least once," he answered and walked over to his closet as the FBI Warning played. "You want something to drink?" he asked sliding open his closet door to reveal one of those little refridgerators. "I have Coke and bottled water."

"Water, please," Buffy said with one of her many smiles. This guy was just too weird. Maybe that's why she liked him.

Oz handed her the bottle before jumping over her to settle in next to her. "I'm truly frightened," Buffy commented with a droll voice when the title displayed itself across the screen.

"You should be."
Eighty-five minutes and a split gut later, the movie ended, leaving Buffy gasping for breath. "Oh, god, I never saw anything so funny as when he was attacked by his hand," she gasped out between laughs.

"That part gets me every time," Oz said, as he crawled over the bed to the VCR.

"What do you mean, 'gets you'? You hardly even cracked a smile, which made me feel even more loony then I already...did," Buffy said. Buffy's words slowed as she watched Oz eject the tape on his hands in knees. He really had no butt to speak of, but she just liked to watch him move. It was somewhat fitting to see him on his hands in knees. A giggle bubbled up from within her as she pictured him letting out a yipping bark.

"It was more of a laughing on the inside thing," he informed her before crawling back to his spot to settle in for the next movie. "This one's "Waxwork", lame but creative in a way."

They sat in silence as they watched the movie. When the scene with the Marquis De Sade came on, Buffy turned on her stomach and propped her head on her hands. Her feet swung in the air behind her as she watched, enrapt of what was going on in the movie. That De Sade guy was one twisted mother', but something about the scene was making her breathing deepen. She wasn't a masochist, or she didn't think she was, but there was something very sexual about the scene. And it was making her slightly uncomfortable.

Oz tried to focus on the screen, but the swinging of Buffy's feet in his peripheral vision was very disruptive. Swiftly his hand shot out to grasp her foot and stop the movement. Buffy turned to look at him questioningly. "Disruptive," he explained shortly and she nodded before turning back to the movie. However, Oz did not let her foot go, he looked down and admired the daintyness of it. Her toenails were painted Cyber blue. He had that color. A wicked thought came to him and ran his fingernails over the underside of her foot.

Buffy let out a loud squeal, suprised. Her feet were the most ticklish parts of her body, but she hadn't been thinking about that when Oz's warm hand had been holding it in his gentle but firm grasp. He continued to tickle her foot as she tried to jerk it back from him, but he was stronger than he looked. Her other leg kicked out futily trying to free the other. Desperate now, for it to end, Buffy flipped herself to her back and tried to sit up, but couldn't.

"Ticklish, Buff?" Oz laughed as he tortured her. He threw both of his legs over her flailing one and held tightly to the one that he still had in his grasp. "Oz, please," she gasped.

"Why should I?"

"Pity!" Oz instantly let her foot go and she fell against the bed breathing hard. "So, let's see if we can't find your other ticklish spot," Oz said, menacingly before jumping to straddle her hips. "No, Oz!" she cried as his hands went to her waist. She stopped struggling and flailing when she felt his fingers slip under the hem of her shirt.

Buffy held her breath as Oz's fingers brushed across the soft skin of her tight abdomen. "Here?" he asked in a barely audible whisper. "No?" he said and skimmed his fingers higher up to her ribcage. Buffy bit her lip and closed her eyes as warm tingly sensations flooded through her body, centering in her stomach and then moving lower. "Here?" His voice was harsh and thick with something Buffy couldn't place. She wanted to look at him, see what he was feeling, but she just couldn't will her eyes to open.

"Hmmm," Oz moaned as his fingers traveled further up to trace along the wire of her bra. "Maybe you should just tell me when I'm getting warm." When she felt his warm breath across her cheek she was finally able to make her eyes open into small slits. Oz was braced above her on one arm as the fingers on his other hand continued to glide over the skin under her shirt. His face was just inches from hers and she licked her lips in anticipation of what came next.

Leaning forward slowly, Oz killed the distance between their lips, brushing hers with his in a feather soft kiss. Buffy waited, eagerly anticipating more, but Oz pulled back again. She opened her eyes again to see him staring down into her flushed face to guage her reaction. Her eyes fluttered shut as her hands moved as if they had a mind of their own. They moved to settle on his hips before sliding to his back and under his black T-shirt to caress the soft skin there. She felt him shudder lightly in response and leaned upward to capture his lips with hers again.

This time, as soon as their lips met, Oz's tongue flicked arcoss hers, demanding entrance which she happily allowed. Each of their tongues moved against the other's in a slow and steady duel for dominance. While her hands played circles along his spine, Oz nudged her legs apart with his knee and slid his hand lower to trace the material of the waist band of her jogging pants. She gave him permission by arching further into his touch and he slipped his hand in, only stopping as they came in contact with her cotton panties. "Is it here?" Oz asked harshly, only to have his lower lip siezed between her blunt teeth.

Oz's hand slid into her panties and caressed the soft curls he came in contact with them, before allowing himself to travel further and slip between her moist nether lips and press against her hard, slippery nub. Her body jerked with a newfound lust as the moisture continued to pool between her legs. Two finger glided over her clitoris in a steady rhythm, causing a moan of pleasure to escape into his seeking mouth. Soon after, Buffy's hips began to rise and fall in the same rhythm that his fingers worked her.

While she bit her lip with pent up need, Oz busied his mouth by kissing his way over her cheek and down to suckle lovingly at her neck. The arm that he was using to support himself above her started to shake with the effort and he lowered himself to his forearm. Scraping his teeth along her pulsing jugular, Oz felt her body starting to tremble and knew that she was close. She cried out in disappointment when his fingers moved away from her clit, only to push themselves into her tight channel. His thumb pressed into her nubbin as his fingers curled to stroke the elusive g-spot. With one last cry of pleasure, Buffy came, her juices flowing over his hand and her fingernails digging into the skin of his back. He gritted his teeth against the pleasurable pain, but continued to stroke her as his fingers slipped from her.

Buffy relaxed underneath him as she calmed a bit. Then suddenly the need to have it again washed over her. She started to tug at his shirt, he shifted to help her, but the frustration came quickly and Buffy ripped the material easily, shredding it completely. Licking her lips wantonly, she brought her hands around him to caress the skin of his bare chest, scraping her nails over his nipples. Oz's eyes rolled back in his head, but he barely had time to register the feelings when he felt her hands stuggling with the fly to his jeans.

"Buffy," he groaned, as she cupped his erection through his pants. "Oz," she whined when she was unable to stop her hand from shaking enough to release his button fly. Tearing his mouth away from her neck, he pushed himself to his knees and released the buttons. Buffy took this time to divest herself of her shirt. Her hands went to the front clasp of her bra, but Oz stopped her. She looked up at him with confusion for a moment until all thought slipped her mind as she watched him pull off his pants along with his boxers. Her mouth formed a perfect O as she took in the sight of his engorged penis standing perfectly at attention.

Taking her hands into his, Oz pulled her into a sitting position with her legs on either side of him. He stroked her shoulders softly as he first kissed her eyelids. Then his lips moved over her cheeks as his hands slid down to cup her breasts. He moved swiftly, unhooking the clasp of her bra faster than even she could. He eased her back down to the mattress, covering her with his body as his lips slid from her neck to the swell of her left breast. His tongue flicked out across one rose-colored nipple before moving quickly to the next.

A loud groan came from him when she arched her hips foward, seeking friction against his erection, which was pressing into her thigh. Suddenly, the need was becoming too much for him and he brought his hands to her waistband. Buffy raised her hips again to aid him in the removal of her pants and panties. "Buffy," he moaned her name and nuzzled his face in the valley of her breasts. "Are you sure about this?" he asked, sounding almost fearful that she would deny him.

Her fingers twined in his hair and she pulled his head up so that she could look into his eyes. His question was answered with the softest of kisses. Closing his eyes, Oz deepened the kiss and positioned himself above her entrance. Again he hesitated, but Buffy wrapped her strong legs around his hips and pulled him down into her. Impaled to the hilt on his cock, Buffy groaned at a bit of discomfort.

He waited for a minute, allowing her to get used to the feel of his width and allowing himself to revel in the feel of her around him. Checking her face for any pain, Oz pulled out just a bit, before thrusting back into her. "Oh god," Buffy whimpered as the pleasure replaced the discomfort. "Please," she begged and started to push up against him. Propping himself up on his arms again, Oz started a slow in and out motion until she was thrashing beneath him. "Faster, faster," she panted. Pulling out, he slammed back into her, hard.

Their lovemaking became more and more frenzied, harder, and faster. The sounds of flesh slapping against flesh, deep moans of pleasure was all that could be heard in the otherwise still house. Sweat poured down Oz's face as he restrained himself from his release, which was fast approaching. Pressing his pelvis closer to her, the base of his cock hit her clit with each thrust. "Oh, god, Buffy, come with me," he panted between gritted teeth.

At his request, Buffy slid her hand between them to touch herself. Almost instantly, she clenched around him and a long cry came from her as her limbs tightened around him. Two more long strokes and Oz followed right behind her. Jerking against her trembling body he emptied himself deep within her.

Completely spent, he fell against her, gasping for breath. Wrapping his arms around her, he rolled them so that she was laying limply on top of him. He listened to her breathing and heartbeat begin to slow, he could smell the mixture of apples and arousal on her. One thing echoed through his mind over and over at this moment. < Mine, mine, mine, mine, mine > Subconciously, he knew nobody could ever own a wildflower like this, and even if someone could it probably wasn't him, but that was what he felt at the exact time.

After she moved off of him, with only her leg and arm slung over him, he turned to look down into her satisfied face. A small smile came to her lips when their eyes met. "Do you regret it?" Oz asked her.

"I don't really know what I'm feeling right now, but I've had enough regret for two life times," she answered. She snuggled closer to him and rested her head on his chest. "But it feels good to be here. And I don't see why I shouldn't be allowed to have a little peace. Regret is definitely not what I'm feeling right now."

"Me either," Oz said, resting his face in her hair.

Only moments later, they were both asleep. Tangled in each other, they both slept peacefully with small smiles on theirs lips. And for the first time in years, Buffy had good dreams.
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The End