Oz threw his hands up in the air in disgust. And quickly lowered them again as a pain lanced through his arm. "Seven," he hissed as the pain receded. "We said 'seven'." He began rolling up his sleeve to check on his bullet wound. His sling had been removed two days earlier, but the wound was still a little tender if he moved the wrong way. Which apparently he just did. < Note to self: Arm up = Pain >. The gauze bandage he had covering the injury was slightly askew. He readjusted his bandage and continued to glare at Jeremy.

Jeremy looked at Oz with absolutely no remorse whatsoever. "And I said I couldn't make it 'til eight."

"When?" Oz asked.

"I told Dev," the bassist replied, gesturing towards the lead singer.

Now Devon stood up. "When?" he asked, challenging.

"Yesterday."

"Yesterday when?" Devon pressed on.

"In the cafeteria. When you were waxing poetic about Julia's new skirt."

"Really?" Devon shook his head and turned to Oz. "Coulda happened," he admitted. Oz glared at him, but Devon at least had the grace to look chastised.

"I have better things to do than sit around waiting for you guys to figure out your personal itineraries," Oz complained. < Things like trying to figure out a way to get Willow Rosenberg to like me. To go out with me. Without thinking about Xander or that stupid bullet .> He grabbed his guitar case with his good arm and moved towards the door to Devon's garage. "When you get it together, call me."

"Oz man, don't be like that," he heard Devon call from behind him. Oz didn't stop. He continued on in his exasperated state and opened the back of his van. He carefully put his guitar in, tucking it into the strategically placed blankets he used to keep it from sliding around.

Oz got in the van and sat for a moment before starting the engine. Now he was kinda ticked. He'd wasted a whole hour of prime thinking time waiting for Jeremy. He didn't feel like going home now. His Mom would quiz him on such a short practice and worry about his arm again. She already gave him the lecture about not overdoing it before he had left earlier. He sighed and decided to check out the Bronze. < Maybe Willow'll be there… > He paused re-examined that thought. < Am I turning into a stalker now? Bad. Stalking leads to jail. Scares off object of affection. Bad .> If he saw her at the Bronze, he'd just play it cool. Maybe he'd offer to get her a coffee. Maybe he'd ask her to dance. Maybe while they danced he could lean into her hair and smell her sweet scent. When he'd been shot she smelled like green apples. Maybe she'd get caught up in the moment too, and then she'd lean in to kiss him…

Oz's thoughts stalled as he realized he'd driven past the Bronze. < Oops .> He turned around and concentrated on driving. He pulled into the parking lot of the Bronze a minute later. He jumped out of his van and came to a sudden stop as he heard a loud screech from his left. It sounded like a girl screaming. He didn't even pause to let his brain kick in before his feet started pounding in the direction of the noise. He crashed through some bushes on the far side of the parking lot, steadfastly ignoring the pain in his arm as branches scraped along his sleeve. Breaking through to the other side of the bushes, he saw Emily Norton. She was in a few of his classes. She was sitting on the ground, holding one hand to her neck and looking terrified. She was gasping for air.

"Em, what's wrong?" Oz knelt beside her, touching her shoulder to get her attention. She turned, as if noticing him for the first time. She smelled faintly of alcohol. "Em?"

"Oz!" she cried in recognition, launching herself into his arms.

"What happened? You okay?" Oz asked. He hugged her in reassurance for a moment before carefully disentangling himself from her arms. She replaced her hand on the side of her neck.

"This guy, Oz, he asked me to dance and I said yes. So we danced and he said his name was David and he was from Lamont College and then he asked me to come outside to look at the stars. He was cute, so I said yes, and we're looking and then -" she paused and her voice lowered to a whisper. "His face, it got all bumpy. He looked like a…a monster and he….bit me!" She looked absolutely panicked.

Oz's eyebrows shot up in surprise. "His face changed and then he bit you," he repeated carefully. he added silently in his brain. < Too much sauce, Em. >

Emily nodded emphatically. "Yeah. See?" She withdrew her hand from her neck and tried to show him her skin.

"It's too dark," he mumbled. "Tilt your head," he moved her head to one side so he could see her neck more clearly. He could see a small mark, but it wasn't bleeding. And it sure didn't look like someone had bitten the skin. There were no indentations of teeth marks. "There's no marks," he noted, aloud.

"But, he BIT me!" she protested.

"Well, where is he now?" Oz asked, standing and trying to help Emily to her feet.

"I don't know," Emily admitted as she stood up and looked around. "Buffy Summers came and she kicked him. Then he ran off."

Oz's eyebrows shot up. "Buffy?" he repeated again. Buffy Summers. Buffy who'd been attacked by the crazy police lady? What was with that girl? "You're sure it was her? Blonde girl, about so high…" he asked as he held his hand up. She nodded. He paused only for a moment before repeating in disbelief, "She KICKED him?"

"Yeah. Oh Oz, you should have seen it. She punched him and he stopped biting me. And then she spun around and kicked him in the jaw. It was just like something out of kung fu movie. He ran off like a scared rabbit."

"So--" Oz looked around the darkened area. "Where's Buffy?"

"She followed him when he ran away." Emily pointed in a direction off to the right. "That way."

"Hmph." Oz made the noise as he looked in the direction she was pointing. He couldn't reconcile this in his mind. Willow's friend Buffy Summers attacked a guy who Emily thought had bitten her. Not only had she attacked him, she'd then chased him away. This was WAY beyond weird. He looked back to Emily, who was kind of unsteady on her feet. Maybe she'd just imagined the whole thing. She was a little drunk… But she was shaking with the after effects of fear. Something really had happened to her. "Come on," he grabbed her elbow and supported her a little. "I'll give you a ride home."

They headed towards the parking lot and Oz's van, while Oz's head swam with crazy ideas Willow and her blonde friend.

Oz sat at his window later that night, aimlessly strumming his guitar and thinking.

Poor Emily had really been terrified. Oz had escorted her to the front door of her house, and she'd trembled the whole way. He had no doubt that the guy had actually tried to do something to her. He just wondered exactly how much she was repressing.

He sighed as his thoughts turned to Emily's rescuer -- Buffy. Could she really beat the crap out of someone? He remembered her firm grip on his neck a week or so before, and decided she probably could. But surely she wouldn't just attack people. < Unless they're walking in the hallway and minding their own business and … > He sighed. Yet Willow didn't seem to be the sort of girl who would hang out with a bad person. Buffy didn't seem like a bad person either. Trouble just seemed to follow Buffy around.

Oz put his guitar down. Now that Willow had crossed his thoughts, he wouldn't be switching topics for a while. A small smile played upon his lips as he pictured her smile the day they'd talked about the significance of animal crackers. It was hard to find a girl who could appreciate the finer points of monkey pants. A girl who wasn't afraid to show she was smart. A beautiful girl with fiery red hair whose smile could light up his whole world in a second. < Willow. She's perfect. So Willow .> He'd never find another girl like Willow in a million years. Oz reaffirmed the silent vow in his head to wait until she was ready to ask her out. He wasn't going to screw up the chance to have her in his life.

"Excuse us!" Willow's soft voice reached Oz through all the other noises in the crowded halls of Sunnydale High. He turned his head in the direction of her voice. And saw her bearing down upon him with alarming speed. Oz jumped out of the way as Willow and Xander hurried past him, jockeying through the throng of students in the hall. Their eyes were focused down the hall, and Oz followed their line of sight to Buffy, walking down the hall very slowly. He noticed that the crowd seemed to part before her, and in her wake people were whispering and pointing at her.

It had been four days since Buffy had "rescued" Emily. If in fact that was what had happened. Now, everyone assumed a hushed tone as Buffy passed by. Buffy ostracized? What had happened now?

Willow and Xander caught up to Buffy and the three of them sat in the small student lounge at the end of the hall. Oz watched carefully for a moment as Willow began talking earnestly to Buffy. He was too far away to hear the actual words, so he curiously watched their expressions.

A hand clapped down on his shoulder lightly, startling from his musings. Oz's eyes trailed up the arm to view Devon, the hand's owner.

"You hear?" Dev asked quietly, nodding in the direction of Willow and her companions.

"No, what's-"

"Buffy killed a guy."

"WHAT?!" Oz was completely stunned. Several eyes turned from Buffy to view Oz.

"She killed her mom's boyfriend. Last night." Devon looked around and lowered his voice dramatically. "Brittany's dad's a cop, right? Well he was at the police station last night when they brought her in. The newspaper says that the guy fell down the stairs at her house, but Brittany's dad said Buffy *pushed * him down the stairs. The police are investigating and everything."

Oz looked down the hall again towards the small circle of three friends. Buffy stood up abruptly and rushed away. Oz's heart fell as he saw Willow's face cloud over with concern for her friend. Willow and Xander were staring after Buffy, seemingly unsure of what to do. Willow watched as Xander then stood up and moved away. She was looking forlornly at her hands. < She needs someone >. Oz took a step in her direction and was unexpectedly restrained by Devon's hand again.

"Oz, man. You don't want to go near her. Freaky stuff happens near Buffy. You should just stay away from those guys."

"Dev, get a clue." Oz shook off his hand and advanced toward Willow. She looked up as his shadow darkened her line of vision and offered him a half-smile. "Hey," he said.

"Hey," she replied softly.

"Can I--?" Oz gestured to the seat beside her. She awkwardly moved her knapsack from the spot as she nodded. He sat down and thought about what to say. < What can you say in a situation like this? 'I heard your friend murdered somebody. Must be a downer. Want to go out tonight to take your mind off it?' >

She sighed. "I guess you heard about Buffy," she began.

"Yeah," Oz acknowledged. "It's really… bizarre. Unbelievable, you know?" Willow nodded in agreement. "I mean, I don't know her that well, but she doesn't seem like the kinda person who wants to go around hurting people…" he trailed off uncertainly as Willow raised her eyes to his. They were shining with unshed tears. His heart constricted painfully in his chest and for an instant he couldn't breathe. It was like someone had punched him in the stomach. < Oh, please don't cry. Willow tears have to be the saddest tears in the universe >. He surprised both of them by offering her his hand and then hugging her lightly sideways with his other arm. He steadfastly ignored the protesting bullet wound as he raised his arm further than it wanted to go.

She clung to his hand and accepted his hug for a few moments before she sniffed loudly. "I have to go to class." She ran her fingers lightly over his hand as she released it, sending tingly electricity running up and down his arm. She stood up and gathered her knapsack from the ground. "I seem to be thanking you a lot lately," she began.

"Willow, it's okay. I'm glad I could be here." Oz paused for a moment. He was going to take a big step here. "If you need me for anything - to talk, or whatever - I'll be here." Oz stood as well and grabbed the lone book he'd been carrying. "I'll see you later, okay?"

Willow cocked her head to one side and looked at him seriously. "'Kay. Bye." She turned and walked down the hall in the same direction Buffy had gone earlier. Oz released a breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding as she disappeared from view. He hoped that he hadn't been too forward. He hoped he hadn't scared her off.

Oz sat strumming his guitar on a bench near the courtyard. He was tuning it patiently, trying to keep his mind off of the BIG MISTAKE. He ran his hands through his hair in frustration. He'd been so stupid. He'd been too forward, and he'd scared her away. He'd lost Willow. It had been a little over ten days since he'd tried to comfort her in the student lounge. In that time, Buffy had been cleared of all charges about the death of her mom's boyfriend. Which was a plus for Buffy and her friends. Unfortunately for Oz, the hugging incident seemed to have set off Willow's internal alarms. She hadn't taken him up on his offer to listen or comfort. Instead, the last time he'd seen her in the halls, she'd turned an interesting shade of pink before she had suddenly turned on her heel and gone the other way. He was sick of chastising himself. < I should have just said 'I'd really like to be your boyfriend and kiss you and hold open doors for you and worship the ground you walk on. Interested?' >

Oz sighed. After all his good intentions, after all the promises he'd made to himself about getting to know her and not pushing her, he'd still blown it. < If she ever speaks to me again, I'm asking her out. I've already made one mistake. I can't afford to screw anything else up. > He tried to add a worst case scenario to his little vow to himself. < The very worst thing that can happen is Willow will say no…..Which, come to think of it, would probably kill me… >

He was about to sigh again when a voice knocked him from his melancholy. "Hey." That was Willow's voice. < She's speaking to me! > His eyes rose to see the sight of Willow, standing in front of him wearing a cute hat and smiling brightly.

< Please don't be a mirage >. "Hey," Oz replied as he set his guitar aside.

Willow gestured at the instrument "Do you guys - uh -- have a gig tonight?"

Oz smiled weakly in response. "Oh, no. Practice. See, our band's kinda moving towards this new sound where we suck, so... practice."

"I think you guys sound good," she reassured.

Oz's eyebrow arched slightly. A compliment from Willow was a pretty heady thing. "Thanks."

"I bet you have a lot of groupies," she pressed on. Her eyes danced with humor.

< There's only one person I'm interested in >. "It happens," he admitted, playing along with her light-hearted mood. "Now, I'm living groupie-free nowadays. I'm clean."

"Oh," Willow smiled before her face took on an awkward look. She was biting her lip as if pondering what to say next.

Oz broke in before an awkward silence could develop. "I'm gonna ask you to go out with me tomorrow night." He paused, gauging her reaction. She wasn't running away. "And I'm kinda nervous about it actually. It's interesting."

Willow bestowed one of her half-smiles upon him. She seemed a little nervous as she spoke. "Oh, well, if it helps at all, I'm gonna say yes."

< SHE'S GONNA SAY YES! > Oz tried to keep his tone casual, as his heart grinned from ear to ear. "Yeah, it helps. It creates a comfort zone." He basked for a moment in one of her full smiles, wanting to remember this moment. "Do you wanna go out with me tomorrow night?"

He was slightly taken aback when Willow suddenly cringed and slapped her forehead with one hand. "Oh! I can't!"

Oz blurted out the first thing that popped into his mind. "Well, see, I like that you're unpredictable." < Now, if it's okay with you, I'll just pick up all these little pieces of my heart here, and… >

"It's just-- It's Buffy's birthday, and we're throwing her a surprise party."

Something in Willow's tone made him realize that it wasn't a rejection. It was just a … a … deferral. Until another time. He sought to reassure her that he was cool with it. "It's okay."

Willow hurried on, "But you could come. If you want to."

"Well, I don't wanna crash," Oz began, looking for a way to offer her a graceful exit if she still wanted one.

Willow's face widened into a smile. "No, it's fine!" she said enthusiastically. "You could be ... my date," she finished shyly.

< She's so cute. > The idea that Willow had asked him on a date suddenly struck him. He nodded to indicate that he very much wanted that. "All right. I'm in." He could feel his face break into a grin. He couldn't help it.

Willow smiled back, sealing their agreement. She looked nervously in the direction of the school, as if she had to go. Oz nodded reassuringly in the direction she had glanced a moment earlier. He liked this. How they were having this conversation without words. < I could get very used to this. >

Willow smiled once more and began walking away. Oz watched her intently. He couldn't believe how lucky he was. He thought heard her very softly say "I said 'Date'," as she got further away from him. His face again erupted into a full-fledged grin.

"You most certainly did. And thank you."