Disclaimer: Some dude named Joss Whedon owns Willow and Oz, as do Sandollar and Kuzui apparently. Really. No really. No, honestly, I'm not joking, they really do own Oz and Willow? How can I convince you?

Author's Note: expect no seriousness from this series folks. I want Will and Oz to have a good time and, by golly, by gum, they're gonna have it! (besides, I already have her torturing the poor boy in Bitter Taste.)

Stood in the Rain

First in the Foolish Games series.

"Hey . . ." The greeting died on Oz's lips. Silently he pulled his other arm out of his jacket, letting it dangle on his fingertips as he lounged on the door frame, watching her.

Doing an excellent impression of a Brat Pack member, Willow danced to the radio in Oz's room. A smile tugged at the corner of his lips when he realized she was singing along, horribly off-tune. "All I want is to feel this way. To be this close. To feel the same. All I want is to feel this way. To have you here. To feel the same," amazingly she hit the high note. "All I want."

Oz clapped.

Whirling around, Willow caught sight of her boyfriend standing in the doorway. She turned bright red. "How, how," she put one hand on her heart and another up like a stop sign then dropped it. Oz noticed the sweat beginning to bead on her forehead. "How long have you been standing there?" She took a deep gulp of air.

"Long enough."

"I can't believe you just stood there watching me."

Oz shrugged. "Oh, I don't know. It was nice seeing you so free with yourself."

"Really?" Willow brightened. "I looked free?"

"Absolutely, completely and totally at ease with the woman known as Willow Rosenburg."

Smiling she pulled him into the room. "Come on, you. Time to free the man known as Daniel Osborne."

"Mmm, I don't know about that, Wills. He might have two feet."

"Oh what's so hard about 80's dancing? Nothing I tell you! Now come on Mister, we're gonna have fun and you're gonna like it."

"Yes, ma'am."

Willow giggled. Oz smiled in kind.