< > indicate thoughts.

* * * * * * * * * * *
Musical Chairs
by:Rebecca Carefoot
Part 2

When Willow entered the library at lunch the next day, Buffy was already there perched on the table in the center of the book filled room, talking to Giles.

"Giles," the Slayer said to her Watcher. "Stop pacing, you're making me dizzy."

"Wh..what?" said Giles, his thoughtful walk interrupted.

"Pick a spot and stand there," Buffy told him forcefully.

"Oh," he said, sinking into one of the chairs that surrounded the table.

"Or sit," amended Buffy. She looked up from the discouraged Watcher and noticed Willow standing near the door. "Hey Will," she called cheerfully.

"What's wrong with him?" asked Willow, swinging her backpack off her shoulders and onto the tabletop.

"He's all pouty because I told him about Spike and Drusilla," explained Buffy.

"You mean about how they might still be alive?" asked Willow.

"Yep, he's not happy about the fact that the dynamic duo may still be at large."

"I AM sitting right here," interjected Giles.

"I keep telling him that we're no worse off than we were before even if the two of them did survive...but he's determined to be Mr. Pessimistic today," said Buffy shaking her head sadly at Willow.

"And I keep telling you that if that ritual succeeded then we are indeed worse off then we were before," Giles protested angrily.

"See," said Buffy pointedly. "He's Mr. *I'm the Voice of Doom* even more than usual."

Willow's head swung from Buffy to Giles, watching their conversaition as if it were a tennis match.

"Buffy," said Giles solemnly. "You must take this seriously. What we had before was ah..one strong vampire, Spike, and one weak, Drusilla. Now if the ritual succeeded and the pair did not die we will have two immensely strong vampires. One of which is completely mad!"

"Ok, ok," Buffy assented. "I get your point. But why does the fact that she's loony-tunes make her more dangerous?"

"Because she doesn't think like we do," explained Willow, looking to Giles for confirmation. "She won't care about how many of her minions she kills to get her way. She won't care how much damage she causes to get her way..she'll just want to get her way."

"And because she's crazy, the dearest wishes of her heart are likely to be unpredictable and to say the least, unpleasant," finished Giles.

"Fine, it's a bad thing...what do we do about it?" asked Buffy.

"I don't know...we need to find out if Spike and Drusilla are truly dead," answered Giles.

"Well how an I supposed to do that?" asked Buffy. "I told you there's no way to know if the ashes in the church are vamp ashes or if they're just dirt."

"You're right," said Giles. "We must find out more about Drusilla. If we can predict what her whims may be we will have a better chance at stopping her. Until then we'll just have to be on guard...ready for anything."

"Aren't we always?" asked Buffy perkily. Giles shot her a glare, and she pulled the edges of her smile into a frown. "So go prepare then," she said dismissing Giles with a lofty wave of her hand. Willow swallowed a giggle at the expression on the librarian's face as he disappeared into the stacks.

Once Giles was gone Buffy turned her attention to Willow, motioning for the girl to sit down.

"So are you excited?" she asked eagerly.

"Not so much excited as nauseous," replied Willow.

"Oh, don't be nervous. You're going to have a great time."

"You promise?"

"I promise," Buffy assured her hesitant friend. "So what time is the date?" she asked.

"Oh, his band is playing at the Bronze at 8. So I'm thinking that they'll be done by 9?" Willow answered uncertainly.

"But you're going to go see them play, right?" Buffy asked. She suddenly grinned and grabbed Willow's hand. "I can't believe you're dating a real band guy. Not like the cheesy school band...a rock band. This is so exciting." She gave Willow's hand a squeeze and tried to contain the squeal she felt rising in her throat.

"You're acting a little..." Willow began carefully.

"Overly?" Buffy finished for her. Willow nodded. "I know," Buffy confirmed. "But I have this thing about guys and guitars...it's a character flaw." She smiled and received an answering grin from Willow's lips.

"So if Angel played a guitar..." Willow began.

"Swoon city," Buffy finished. "Not that I'm not sort of already there...whoa double negative."

"It worked for you though," said Willow with a smile. She was starting to feel better now that she had Buffy to talk to. Buffy could handle anything. And the Slayer's enthusiasm was bolstering Willow's excitement about the date; she couldn't help but respond to her friend's excitement.

"What worked for you?" Xander asked as he walked over to join them. "If it's that outfit then I agree." Buffy smiled at the compliment and struck a vogue pose.

"You're late," she said.

"What we have tardiness to lunch now?" Xander asked.

"Well, we won't give you a detention," Buffy conceeded. "But where were you?"

"I had something to take care of," he said evasively, shooting a glance toward Willow.

"Ok, secretive boy," Buffy said hopping off the table. "I have to go talk to my trig teacher and try to wrangle some sort of non-failing grade." She picked up her bag and brushed by Xander on the way to the door. "Are you wearing perfume?" she asked him, pausing for a moment before heading out the door. Xander watched her go before turning to Willow.

"She knows," he said anxiously.

"Nuh uh," assured Willow nervously.

"Ehh, you're probably right," Xander decided. "I'm just a tad paranoid."

"So where were you? With Cordelia?" Willow asked.

"Yeah, me and Cordy had a little rondevous."

"Broom closet?"

"How'd you know?"

"Lucky guess," said Willow. "Cordelia and I spent some quality time in there on Parent's Night."

"Oohh, mental picture," said Xander, closing his eyes.

"Xander," his friend whined his name, hitting him lightly across the stomach.

"Fine," he said. "I'll save that image for later." She tried to frown disapprovingly, but she couldn't keep the smile from peeping through.

"So what did you and Cordelia decide?" she asked. "I mean obviously you didn't call the whole thing off."

"I think we decided that we're keeping everything a secret."

"You think?" Willow asked skeptically.

"Well, you know how hard Cordy logic is to follow," Xander defended himself.

"So you aren't going to date?" Willow asked, still trying to understand.

"She didn't want to...something about her rep." Xander saw the pitying look in Willow's eyes and hurried to assure her. "Hey I'm not upset. I have a rep too...you think I want people knowing that I'm dating her?"

"Of course not," answered Willow. But she could see the hurt in his eyes. She could tell that it bothered him. The girl he was choosing to be with didn't want anyone to know about the two of them. It hurt him that she was ashamed of him. For a moment Willow wondered if she had been too quick to urge him to go for it with Cordelia. < No, it was the right thing to do, > she assured herself. < It was what he wanted to do. > The bell rang, signifying the end of lunch and the pair gathered their books.

"I'll see you at the Bronze tonight?" Xander asked as he held the door open for Willow to leave.

"I'll be there," confirmed Willow. "I'm meeting Oz."

"Great," Xander said.

"Good," answered Willow as she entered her classroom.

"Great," Xander muttered to himself.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
"What about this one?" Buffy asked, holding up a skimpy, light yellow dress.

"That one's awfully short," said Willow, shaking her head no.

"That's kind of the point," said Buffy with a smile. She turned back to Willow's closet and pulled out another dress. "This one?"

"Why can't I just wear pants?" Willow asked petulantly.

"Because you want to look nicer than on a normal day at school," explained Buffy patiently for the third time. "If you go to a date looking normal it's not really a date it's just two people at the same place."

"Well there's nothing wrong with that," protested Willow. Buffy sighed loudly and hung the dress back up in the closet.

"I'm getting the feeling that you are not in the dating spirit," she said, sitting down next to her friend on the bed. "You need to get excited, get happy."

"I am happy," pouted Willow.

"Yeah, real happy," Buffy said, her tone begging to differ.

"No, I'm happy and excited," protested Willow. "It's just that those emotions are sort of buried under the huge blanket of fear and nervousness that's covering me."
Buffy nodded with understanding.

"Look Willow. How often do you date?"

"Well..." Willow stalled. "There was that one time with that guy who turned out to be a vampire."

"Doesn't count," Buffy declared.

"Well I go to the Bronze with you and Xander."

"But you don't have to dress up for us."

"But...for Xander," said Willow, embarrassed. She had tried to dress up a little when she knew she was going to be with Xander. < A pathetic attempt to catch his eye, > she decided mercilessly. < I am such a loser. > "And I guess we all know how well that worked," she finished the statement she had begun out loud. Buffy leaned over to give her a quick hug.

"Will.." she started. Willow firmly shook her head.

"Make me over," she demanded. Buffy gave her a smile and hopped off the bed. In a fit of industry she whirled around the room. "Uh...what are you doing?" Willow asked finally.

"I'm creating a LOOK," Buffy replied as she browsed through Willow's make-up. "We'll use my make-up," she declared after looking over all of the tiny selection. Holding a dark green dress and a pair of shoes, she advanced on Willow. "Put these on," she commanded.

"Are you sure this is the whole dress?" Willow asked as she changed her clothes.

"Hey, it was in your closet," Buffy argued. "You bought it."

"Must've been before I hit that growth spurt," Willow muttered, pulling at the hem. She walked towards Buffy, then staggered, falling onto the bed.

"Are you ok?" Buffy laughed. Willow glared at her a moment before breaking into giggles herself.

"No heels," she decided. "Staggering like a drunk is not the LOOK I want."

"Right, no heels," agreed Buffy as she ventured back into the closet. She emerged triumphant with a pair of chunky black flats which Willow duly pulled onto her feet. "Now, we do the make-up," said Buffy. Willow made an over-the-top frightened face and Buffy couldn't help but laugh before saying, "Sit!" imperiously.

Willow quickly moved to obey, sitting in the computer chair. Buffy pulled the chair, with Willow in it over to the bed. The Slayer sat on the bed, surrounded by tubes of lipstick and mascara, facing Willow, who sat still in her chair. After working on Willow's face for half an hour, Buffy was satisfied with the result.

"Am I just a total artist or what?" she asked, grabbing Willow's hand and pulling her over to the mirror. Willow stared for a while at the mirror, trying to reconcile the fact that the girl in the mirror was her. The girl stood before her in a dark, forest green dress that fell down to a little lower than mid-thigh. Her hair looked soft, a burnished coppery color that floated near her face. Willow leaned in closer to the mirror to see the girl's make-up. Plummy lipstick met sparkly, barely blue eyeshadow and smooth, lightly pink cheeks. Willow pulled back and watched the girl in the mirror.

"She's beautiful," she muttered to herself. And she was. The dress hugged her perfectly, swaying with her every move. She looked big eyed out at Willow and moved a hand up to touch her face.

"No," Buffy said quietly, coming over to stand next to her friend. "You're beautiful." Willow turned to her friend and gave her a little smile.

"You really think so?" she asked insecurely.

"I always have," insisted Buffy. WiIlow squeezed her hand tightly, then grabbed a jacket off the hook on the back of her door.

"Are you going to come?" Willow asked.

"On your date?" Buffy asked disbelievingly. "Believe me Will, this is one of those times when three's a crowd."

"But he's going to be on stage for the first hour."

"Well in the interest of getting to watch your boyfriend rock out," Buffy relented. She grabbed her leather jacket off the bed and let Willow lead the way to the door.

"Ok, but he's not really my boyfriend," Willow corrected as they walked out the door.

"Not yet," said Buffy with a wink.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Willow entered the Bronze, standing uncertainly near the door. She felt as if every eye in the place was on her, judging her. She started slightly as Buffy came up behind her and hovered near her elbow. Then Buffy grabbed her hand firmly and drew her into the milling throng that filled the Bronze.

"You wanna set your jacket down?" Buffy asked, motioning to an empty table. Willow nodded eagerly and draped her jacket over the back of a chair before collapsing into it. She looked up at Buffy, who was still standing.

"Aren't you going to sit?" Willow asked.

"No," Buffy replied. "And neither are you," she decided, grabbing Willow and pulling her to her feet.

"Wha..?" Willow blurted as she was yanked to her feet.

"We're not sitting," Buffy told her in a tone that would admit no argument.

"But I like to sit," Willow protested. "It's much better than, you know, dancing."

"Come on," Buffy said forcefully. "We're going to get right up next to the stage. Right up next to Oz." Willow glanced toward the stage timidly. Her eyes resting on the guitar playing form of Oz. Unresistingly, she let Buffy drag her over to the stage. With a well-placed elbow here and a good hard shove there, Buffy managed to get them settled right below Oz's feet. Willow looked up into the boy's face, watching him concentrate as his fingers flew through the chords.

"He's good!" Buffy yelled to Willow.

"What?" Willow yelled back, unable to hear over the noise.

"Forget it!" Buffy called, she threw her arms in the air and began to move to the rhythm. "Dance," she commanded. Willow glanced up at Oz, but he seemed focused on the song. With a shrug she began to sway. Buffy tossed her a grin, grabbed her hand, and spun her around on the balls of her feet. With a laugh Willow twirled again, and let herself fall into the music.

She didn't even notice that Oz had somehow heard her laugh. That he was watching her move and joke with her friend. He smiled down at her from the stage and felt a swell of pride that she was here to see him.

Willow glanced up, a merry laugh pealing from her throat. Her eyes met Oz's and he smiled at her. She waved at him, and got a grin in response. Then Buffy whirled her around, and the moment of connection was broken. She was drawn back into the dance, her body grooving to the music. When she glanced up again, Oz was focused once more on his guitar.

After the band had played its set, Willow was covered in a thin sheen of sweat. Her chest heaving with exertion, her mind still shattered by the music. Canned music began to play through the speakers, and for a moment Willow mourned the loss of the live sound that had energized the room the moment before. She followed Buffy back to their table, and sat down, exhausted.

"Look," Buffy said nodding her head in Oz's direction. "He's taking off his guitar...and he's jumping off the stage...and he's coming over here.." Her play by play commentary ended in a squeal.

Willow felt a knot of nervousness in her stomach tighten with every step he took toward the table. She touched her hair absently, wiping her face with her hand.

"I'm all sweaty and disgusting," she whispered despairingly to Buffy.

"You are not," Buffy contradicted. "You're fine. You're glowing." Willow gave her a withering look and the Slayer held her hands up in surrender. "Ok, that was stupid....but you still look great." She turned away from Willow as the young guitarist walked up behind her. "Hey, Oz," she greeted him.

"Oh, hey," he said, holding his hands above his head. "I'm not going to try IT I promise." Buffy broke into a grin and shook her head embarrassedly.

"I'm SO sorry about that."

"I'm just giving you a hard time," he said with a grin as he turned to face Willow. "So what'd you think of the band?"

"Great." Willow replied. "You guys were great."

"Yes, you were," added Buffy. "And I've gotta get outta here. I will see you later, Will."

"You're leaving?" Willow asked. Buffy nodded, grabbing her jacket and walking around the table to come up behind Willow.

"Have fun," she whispered, and then disappeared into the crowd. Willow watched the teeming masses for a moment before turning hesitantly back to her date. Oz had taken the seat next to her and was playing with a discarded napkin he had found, slowly tearing it to shreds. He felt her eyes on him and looked up with a smile.

"So do you want to hang here?" he asked. "Or would you want to go?"

"Where would we go?" she questioned.

"Elsewhere," he answered. "Ok you've got me. I have no idea."

"Well this is Sunnydale, there's really not all that many choices."

"So name our options for me," requested Oz.

"Ok, there's here...and, um the yogurt place." Willow paused thoughtfully. "I guess that's about it."

"Well, dancing or yogurt?" Oz asked.

"Decisions are not my forte," Willow said petulantly. "I really don't care."

"Normally I would sit here and force you to make a decision," said Oz, sitting back in his chair. "But just this once..." He grabbed Willow’s hand and gave it a squeeze. "Let's get out of here," he said, rising to his feet. Willow grabbed her jacket and hurried to catch up with her hand which was still encircled by his. < Geez, > she thought to herself. < All I've been doing tonight is hurrying to keep up with somebody...first Buffy, now Oz. I'm such a doormat. > She jumped as a hand tapped her on the shoulder. Gasping, she turned to see Xander. Oz returned to her side when he realized she had stopped.

"Leaving already?" Xander asked, as he eyed Oz suspiciously.

"Yeah, well I've been dancing for a while now," said Willow.

"I'm sorry I missed it," Xander told her. "Hey," he said nodding his head at Oz.

"Hey," Oz answered. "So do you want to stay now?" he asked Willow.

"Oh! No," Willow answered. "We were leaving," she told Xander.

"So I saw," he answered.

"Bye, man," Oz said as he led Willow away. She craned her head to look back once. Xander stood in the midst of the crowd, all alone. She felt a sudden stab of sympathy.
< Stop that, > she commanded herself. < You are on a date with Oz, so stop thinking about Xander. > She looked at Oz, as he walked beside her. < He's not as brunette today, the dye must have washed out, > she noticed.

When they reached his van, Oz stopped. To Willow's surprise he walked around to her side of the van and opened the door for her. < What a gentleman, > she thought to herself as she climbed up into the seat. He walked around to get in on his side and Willow suddenly realized that this was the first time he had relinquished her hand since he had first claimed it back in the Bronze. < It's nice to have somebody care about me, > she decided.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Xander stood alone in the Bronze, surrounded by a room full of dancing teenagers. He watched the couples as they danced close to each other. He watched them smile as they gazed love-struck into each other's eyes. He watched them speak softly into each other's ears. And he wished he was one them. He wished he was half of a couple that held hands and kissed in public. A couple...like Oz and Willow. The thought struck him with stunning force. She was half of a couple now. The thought hurt. He had grown used to thinking of her as the other half of him. They hadn't been a couple; they had been a pair. Fear struck him as he thought of her in Oz's arms. He was losing her. She would want to spend all her time with her new boyfriend; she wouldn't have time for Xander anymore.

< But how often have I blown her off for somebody else? > he asked himself. < How many times have I told her that she has too many thoughts, or she needs to get a life? I took her for granted, > he was forced to admit. < And now she's gone and gotten a life, and I'm just the idiot who let her go. >

Xander's eyes fell on Cordelia, who was standing by herself for once. He decided to go over and ask her to dance.

* * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * * *
Willow and Oz drove for a moment in silence. Silence which Willow eventually broke.

"This isn't the way to the yogurt shop," she pointed out.

"I know," Oz replied calmly. Visions of the last time she had tried to go to the yogurt shop and ended up in the graveyard filled her mind. < Ok, he's not a vampire, > she told herself. < I've seen him in the sunlight. >

"So where are we going?" she asked after deciding once and for all that she was not on a date with a vampire.

"You'll see," Oz replied cryptically. < Well that's nice, > Willow thought. < He's going to let me see where I am before the horrible ax murder. Stop it, > she reprimanded herself.
The van slowed to a stop and Willow sat up to look around. < Oh God, he's brought me deep into the heart of a dark forest, > she thought as she began to panic. < No wait...this is just the park. > A nervous laugh tittered from her mouth.

"Come on," Oz told her, extending his hand again. Willow hesitated for just a moment before taking the outstretched appendage. < Hanging out with the Slayer is definitely giving me some trust issues, > she thought. Oz led her through a grove of trees that lay in the corner of the park. Despite the fear that lay heavy in her stomach, she couldn't help but notice how considerate he was. He held the branches back when she walked by them. He was always careful to keep her away from the treacherous tree roots that would have tripped her up. She held onto his hand a little tighter.

Suddenly he stopped in front of her, so suddenly that she couldn't keep herself from bumping into his back. He turned to her, laughing a little, and her embarrassment turned to laughter as well. With a flourish, he parted the screen of branches that stood before them and ushered her into a circle of trees. She stood in a grassy clearing in the middle of a cluster of trees. Willow felt her breath catch in her throat as she stared up at the trees, their branches scraping the sky. Moonlight filtered in through the canopy of leaves that arched over their heads, and here or there a star was visible.

Oz watched her uncertainly as she spun in a circle, her head thrown back towards the sky. He had taken a risk bringing her here. Doubting himself, he wished for a moment that they had just gone to the yogurt shop. But that was a normal first date place, and Willow was not a normal girl. He had wanted to do something special, like her. Something she would never forget.

"It's so beautiful," he heard her say, in awe.

"So you like it?" he asked. "You aren't craving frozen yogurt at the moment?"

"I can get yogurt any time," Willow replied.

"I found this place a few months ago. Sometimes I come here to think, or to play guitar...no angry neighbors or parents telling me to shut up here." He approached Willow slowly. "I thought we could talk here."

He sat down in the grass, and Willow joined him.

"So what do want to talk about?" she asked.

"Anything you want," he replied. "You," he said more specifically.

"Well there's not that much to tell about me," Willow said. "My parents are still together, I'm what's considered a computer nerd...but I’m ok with that, and I have a few really close friends...that's about it."

"Are you saying that all there is to Willow is a computer, some parents and a friend or two?" he asked. "That's kind of funny..."

"What?" she asked.

"You defined yourself by other people and things...by your parents and your friends," said Oz. He turned to look directly into Willow's eyes. "I don't care about those other people. I care about you, Willow." Willow was forced to drop her gaze. She stared at her hands for a moment, trying to think of something she could say. Trying to think of something about herself that was just hers, nobody else's.

"I'm sorry," Oz said. "I didn't mean to upset you.."

"I'm afraid of frogs," Willow said, blurting out the first thing that popped into her mind.

"Well, now we're getting somewhere," said Oz with a grin. "Personally I've always had more of a fear of giant spiders."

"I have that too," Willow exclaimed. "I mean, I always say what do they need all those legs for anyway?"

"For crawling across your face and into your mouth at night!" Oz replied indignantly.

"Exactly!" Willow said, a smile spreading across her face. Oz felt his heart flutter when she smiled at him.

"So where do you think the frog fear came from?" he asked, afraid that she would notice him staring.

"I don't know," said Willow. "I think I may have been born with it."

"But John Locke says that we were all born with minds that are blank slates."

"Well," said Willow , a little surprised to hear Locke mentioned in casual conversation. "I'm not sure I believe that. But if it were true. I guess we could trace my fear back to the time my dad tried to take me fishing when I was five years old."

"Not a good idea?" Oz asked sympathetically.

"It was awful..with the worms and the hook..ugh. And then I was holding onto the fishing rod and out of nowhere this giant frog jumped on me. And it got in my hair and my dad had to try to get it out while I was hysterically screaming."

"Yeah, that'll do it," Oz agreed, wincing at the thought of being attacked by giant frogs.

"So why are you afraid of spiders?" she asked.

"They're creepy looking," answered Oz as if that explained everything.

"Not good enough," Willow protested. "William Shatner is creepy looking too, but you aren't afraid of him are you?"

"Well actually...I've always..found..him quite..frightening," said Oz in his best imitation of Captain Kirk. Willow laughed. "No, the truth is..that I once had this horrible spider bite.." Oz began. Willow watched him, sitting right next to her, as he spoke. She had to admit that she was having a good time despite herself. He was an incredible musician, and he really cared about what she had to say. He had brought her somewhere special for their date. In Sunnydale of all places, he had managed to find someplace new and interesting (that wasn't a graveyard.) "...and it swelled up to the size of a grapefruit.." Oz was saying.

Without really realizing what she was doing, Willow leaned closer to Oz. Closer and closer until their lips met. After a moment of shock Oz returned the kiss gently. Slowly they broke apart. < No fireworks, > thought Willow. < No soaring music in my head, but it was a good kiss. It felt comfortable. >

"So have I ever mentioned the Barbie incident?" she asked, breaking the silence that had fallen after their kiss.

"Hmmm, sounds interesting.." answered Oz, raising one eyebrow quizzically.

* * * * * *
"..so then my uncle bought me a guitar and I thought it was the coolest present. I played all the time...even though I didn't know how. Finally my parents sprung for lessons...they kept talking about their ears bleeding," Oz said with a laugh.

"You play so well," Willow told him.

"Oh...well that's nice of you to say. But.." he cleared his throat nervously. "I'm about as good with compliments as I am with thank-yous. So do you play any instruments?" he asked, changing the subject.

"Well piano," she said reluctantly. "But I don't play when there are people...you know, listening."

* * * * * *

"...And I just had to run off the stage. All those eyes staring..and me dressed in a white sheet trying to do a dramatic scene. It was awful. So there you have it...the start of my dramatic career." Willow said.

"Sounds like you're really into show biz," Oz said jokingly.

"Oh yeah I love attention," said Willow. "I'm a ham."

"I see that about you," Oz grinned. Willow smiled back, brushing hair out of her eyes.

* * * * * *
They continued to talk, for hours. Then he drove her home, leaving her on the doorstep with one last kiss.

CONTINUES