Part: One
It’s three-thirty in the morning, not a soul in sight
The city’s looking like a ghost town on a moonless summer night
Raindrops on the windshield, there’s a storm moving in
He’s heading back from somewhere that he never should have been
And the thunder rolls And the thunder rolls
Oz sighed as he ran his fingers through his hair checking in the rearview mirror to make sure it didn’t look more mussed than usual. He hoped she wouldn’t be waiting up for him but with the storm coming she probably would be. Willow hated thunder. He sighed again. He’d really been hoping to avoid her tonight.
He started the car and backed out into the street. He knew that he could make it across town in a matter of minutes. The streets were always deserted now. Buffy had even been reassigned since the current vampire master had no interest in world domination or opening the Hellmouth. He kept the city under control. If Buffy had still been here she probably would be waiting with Willow for him. Since she left Willow had been mostly alone, all of her friends having left years ago.
He drove past the new High School and smiled grimly as he remembered that night ten years past when the old Sunnydale High had been burned to the ground. Xander had left that summer to travel the world, actually managed to make a career out of it, writing for a travel magazine.
Cordelia moved to LA and was still working for Angel at his detective agency; Willow saw them every once in a while.
Buffy and Giles went to Cleveland.
And Spike…well Spike wasn’t a part of their lives anymore.
Oz smiled as he turned onto his street. He could see the light in the dining room was on and a solitary figure was waiting by the window. Yes, Willow was alone except for him, just the way he wanted it.
Every light is burning in the house across town
She’s pacing by the telephone in her favorite flannel gown
Asking for a miracle, hoping she’s not right
Praying it’s the weather that’s kept him out all night
And the thunder rolls And the thunder rolls
Willow glared at the phone that refused to ring. The thunder crashed causing her to jump and squeak slightly in alarm. She crossed her arms over her chest and hugged herself tightly as the storm got worse. She hated storms; usually she would curl into a tight ball and huddle in the shelter of her husband’s arms. She had tried to do just that when the storm started only to find herself the only one in bed.
Oz had played a gig at the Bronze tonight but he should have been home by 2:00. When Willow had heard the first crash of thunder the clock by the side of the bed had read 2:30. Willow frowned as she glanced out the window checking the empty street for any signs of his car.
He’d been coming home late for the last few weeks. A memory of finding him in a crypt with a she-wolf flashed across her mind. She quickly shook her head. Oz had come back with the wolf under control. He still loved her and she figured it was only fair to give him a second chance the same way he had given her one. That had been eight years ago. They’d been married for seven. He’d never given her cause to doubt that she was all he wanted. Except for the nights that he came in late.
Willow shook her head again. Oz was all she had left in this town. She was sure that the storm had just delayed him a little bit. Or maybe Devon had needed help tearing down the equipment. She caught her breath as she saw headlights heading towards her house.
She’s waiting by the window when he pulls into the drive
She rushes out to hold him thankful he’s alive
But on the wind and rain a strange new perfume rose
The lightning flashes in her eyes and he knows that she knows
And the thunder rolls And the thunder rolls
Willow threw open the front door and rushed out to the driveway heedless of the rain that plastered her hair to her head and made it appear that dark red blood was streaming down her back. As Oz stepped out of the car she threw her arms around him and pressed her cheek to his chest.
“Oh goddess! I thought something might have happened to you, with the storm and…” Willow’s words stumbled to a halt as she caught the smell of something on his shirt. She leaned closer and sniffed the shirt. The sticky sweet smell of Chanel No. 5 reached her nostrils. She flung her head up and shoved him backward into the side of the car.
“Damn you!! How long Oz? How many this time?” Her hands clenched into fists at her sides and her eyes reflected the lightning as she was hit with the knowledge that once again he had been unfaithful to her.
He reached out for her but she jerked her arm away and ran for the house.
She runs back down the hallway and slams the bedroom door
She reaches for the pistol kept in the dresser drawer
She tells the lady in the mirror he won’t do this again
Cause tonight will be the last time she’ll wonder where he’s been
Willow’s fingernails tore as she clawed at the front door finally getting it open. She ran through her house blinded by the tears of rage that filled her eyes. How could he? After all they had been through. Something in the back of her mind acknowledged that she had really known that he’d never been faithful to her, his excuses always a little too weak for her to accept, but she did, he was all she had in this town.
Willow made it into the bedroom and slammed the door behind her throwing the deadbolt that Giles had insisted she install so many years ago. When she had married Oz the watcher had given her what others thought was a joke gift: A deadbolt for the bedroom door in case Oz had ever lost control and come after her during a full moon. The other gift was in the dresser drawer.
Willow dried her tears as she reached a shaking hand towards the oak dresser and slowly opened the top drawer. She reached inside and withdrew Giles’s wedding present. A .45 caliber pistol with a full clip of silver tipped bullets. He had included a note that said he hoped she’d never have to use it but he thought that she would feel safer knowing she could defend herself. She had smiled and kissed him on the cheek knowing that the gun was more for his peace of mind than hers. But now…now.
She heard the noise of Oz pounding on the door demanding to be let in so he could talk to her. Tell her that it hadn’t meant anything, that it was a mistake. Willow nodded when she heard him say that. It was a mistake, the last one he would ever make. Her eyes were dry and her hand was steady as she took aim at the door.
“Goodbye Oz.” She pulled the trigger, once, twice. She heard the thud as his body hit the carpet of their hallway.
The thunder rolls and the lightning strikes
Another love grows cold on a sleepless night
And as the storm grows all out of control
Deep in her heart the thunder rolls
There was a second thud as the heavy pistol dropped from Willow's suddenly nerveless fingers to land on the green carpet that they had decided on for their bedroom < because it matches your eyes > Oz had whispered, nuzzling her neck while the saleswomen looked on with an indulgent smile for the newlyweds. She stumbled backwards until the backs of her knees hit the bed forcing her to sit down abruptly. There was absolute blankness in her eyes. Willow continued to stare at the closed door for several minutes. She gulped in a huge breath of air and shook herself as if she had suddenly surfaced from underneath the icy coating of a pond in mid-December. Reality intruded. In a city where corpses with their necks torn out and no blood were considered commonplace, a gunshot in the middle of the night was still enough for the neighbors to call 911 about. And surprisingly the police would actually respond with something approaching haste. With the storm there was the possibility that no one had heard but regardless Devon would be showing up at the house to meet with Oz and compare notes over last night's performance at noon and he was sure to notice if Oz was lying on the carpet in a pool of blood.
Willow shook herself again and forced herself to stand. Her body obeyed mechanically, jerking stiffly as if she had been sitting in the same position for days rather than a few minutes. She crossed the carpet and opened the drawer that until recently had held the pistol which lay forgotten on the carpet. Inside the drawer were only four other objects. A box of silver tipped bullets, a black leather dress, black calf high stiletto boots and a emerald and sapphire choker set in platinum. A smile ghosted across Willow's face as her fingers brushed the choker. Had Oz known of its existence he would have pawned it years before but he never invaded this one drawer. He claimed it was because of the gun and his aversion to silver, Willow let him believe that, never mentioning that it had more to do with the powerful spell she had placed on it, the last spell she had ever performed. Sighing softly she reached in a removed the dress.
Willow watched herself in the mirror as she removed the faded flannel gown and let the garment pool at her feet. She drew the leather over her head inhaling deeply of its scent - blood and cigarettes. She shifted until the hem settled on her thighs. Then she began to lace up the sides with the thin silk chord that was all that kept the back and the front attached to one another. She giggled as the memory of the first time she had worn the dress flashed in her mind.
"C'mon out pet, I want to see it."
"I can't…"
"Now Red!"
"But I can't wear any…you know…with it!"
"I know, pet, that's the whole point."
She finished tying the cords and checked in the mirror to make sure that the dress was centered and that her breasts rode high enough without exposing the nipples. Everything would have to be perfect if she even hoped to return to him. She wobbled slightly in the stilettos before catching her balance. Raising her hands to her hair she proceeded to braid it into nine thin braids which she then braided together until her hair was woven in a pattern that would confuse the eye of anyone who looked too long at it. Satisfied with her appearance Willow headed for the door. Her hand trembled as she reached for the deadbolt and prepared to unlock it. Her husband's body would be laying in the hallway. She wrapped her arms around herself as she began to shake. Once again she backed away from the door. Before she hit the bed her eyes was caught by the reflection of the choker in the mirror.
She stared at it for a long moment before finally reaching in and retrieving the piece of jewelry. He had sent it after all, even after everything that had happened. His note had been typically brief. Just that she had left it behind and that she might want it someday. At the time she had been furious, how dare he think that she would want a reminder of that time in her life, especially after what he had done…and what she had done. She had only kept it thinking that she might need it to sell someday. A small half smile lifted the corner of her mouth, he had been right again, she did want it now. She licked her index finger and drew a line in the air.
"One for his side." She murmured keeping track in a decades old contest that was all but forgotten by the people who had played it. Her hands were still shaking as she raised the choker to its proper place around her slender neck. As she fastened the clasp the trembling seemed to abate slightly and when she reached for the deadbolt a second time they were steady. She threw the bolt and turned the knob letting the door swing inward. She took a step forward and looked down at the floor ready to accept what she knew she would see.
Oz's body was gone.
That must have been when the real shock set in, Willow decided as she stood in the pouring rain outside of the old Sunnydale High School which was now a single building erected in the area of the old library. It was a memorial to all the young people killed by the "Sunnydale Syndrome" as people put it. All the unexplained deaths were mourned here.
As she stepped forward a low chiming sound called Willow's attention to her hand. She was holding her car keys. Must have driven here she reflected. She opened her hand and let the keys fall to the muddy earth. One more piece of evidence for the police who would be investigating at least one disappearance come the morning. The mud sucked at her boots as she made her way past the building the grate that covered the entrance to the sewers that Angel had once used as his own private highway to anywhere in Sunnydale.
An image of the dark-haired vampire flashed through Willow's mind. She wondered if Cordelia would have a vision that would send the two of them racing to town only to find her gone, or safe, whichever they might call it. The gate shrieked as she pulled on it, ten years of rust giving way grudgingly. Willow took one last look at the surface world before dropping without a sound into the dark tunnels underneath.
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