Short Stories about Willow and Oz, first base, second base, third base and Willow's first-ever home run, as well as an AU reunion in Istanbul. Mostly smut, smut, smut – with a few deep and meaningful words inserted to give substance.
Disclaimer: I don't own 'em… Joss' brain-kiddies so please don't sue me.
Author's Note: I know there is general dissension in the ranks about what each base is, but I went off my version. 1st – French kissing, 2nd – naughty touching, 3rd – oral, Home – All the Way! That's what I think of with bases anyways. If you don't agree, shut up and enjoy the sexiness.
Chapter 1: First Base
Set between "Passion" and "Killed by Death" in Season 2.
"I still don't believe it, Oz…" Willow murmured, leaning against her boyfriend's leanly muscled chest. "It's like, one day she was teaching us computer science and the next she's just… poof. Gone. And it's like nothing ever happened, except it did. Badness happened. Badness in the shape of Buffy's dark and broody oops-we-had-sex-now-he's-evil boyfriend guy. He killed Miss Calendar! Oz, it isn't fair… she didn't deserve to die and she was working on restoring his sould 'cept now we'll never know how to do it because she's gone and even though I've sifted through all her files I can't find anything that might help us and-" Oz cut her off with an impassioned kiss planted fervently on her rapidly babbling lips. He pulled back, a hand still in her hair. It was set aglow, as if it were on fire, by the low, orange lighting in her bedroom and the luminescence from the half-moon outside made her skin shine. He'd never seen her more beautiful. But she was in so much pain – he could tell by the extra high babble-drive she had tonight. He hated that, having to sit here, trying to comfort her without having the slightest idea on how to go about it. Willow gazed into his pale eyes, searching for the comfort she craved so much. She reached out, lightly stroking his stubbled cheek, just watching his expression calm as her fingers danced.
Their relationship had astounded Willow. She felt so much for this boy – this man – and so quickly too! She never believed that she could care for someone as much as she cared for Oz. For God's sake, she was in love with the sandy-haired boy. She was still nervous though, a relative newbie to all things relationship-y. But hey, she was learning quick! She was the one to initiate the first kiss she'd shared with Oz. Their relationship was very intimate, certainly, but not on a physical level. She talked with Oz, more than anything. His intellect matched her own and they'd sit and talk for hours about anything and everything. He wasn't pushy, either. Especially not when it came to physical things – a gesture which Willow greatly appreciated. The idea of naughty touching still kind of wigged her. Sure, they'd shared many snuggles and a few brief kisses, but nothing more. As Willow gazed up into his kind eyes, she realised that she wanted … more. Not wanted, but craved. She wanted to taste him, know him.
Willow leaned up slowly, pressing her lips against his and parting them, just slightly. As always. He expected her to hold the kiss for a few seconds, then part again but this time she didn't. Willow opened her mouth a little wider, gently running her tongue along Oz's bottom lip. He parted his lips as well, letting her tongue slip between them. He could taste the faintest hint of strawberries on her breath and every movement from her tongue and lips was gentle, tentative. He pulled her in closer, sliding her into his lap and twining his fingers through her long, red hair. Her hands wandered too, clasping around his collar and stroking the fine hairs at the nape of his neck. He shivered at her touch, relishing in her taste and feel. The budding witch moaned slightly, leaning into him more. The lovers parted their lips further, tongue meeting halfway and starting their gentle explorations of the warm, wet caverns of the other's mouth. She stroked his tongue with hers, entering a friendly duel. He won dominance, sucking on Willow's tongue and relishing the little moan this yielded. He ran his tongue over every crevice of her mouth, feeling her shuddering at his administrations. She returned the favour, sucking on his tongue and massaging it with her own. She pulled back, sucking his bottom lip inot her mouth and nipping it gently before soothing it with her tongue. She leaned in again, recapturing his lips and tasting him again. Willow slid backwards, breaking the kiss, but remaining twined in the werewolf's strong arms, their foreheads resting together. She closed her eyes, relishing in the lingering taste of Oz in her mouth and his warm breath still on her face. She leaned in placing another light kiss on his lips, and another, and another. She showered his face and lips in desperate, emotion- filled kisses and she nuzzled at his face, an ache deep inside her. Her whole body was humming with a desperate need to connect to someone, to feel loved and protected. Oz encased Willow in his arms, lightly kissing the top of her head. He wanted to hold her like this forever, enjoying her strawberry taste and the sweet smell of her hair, to hold her and love her and protect her from the darkness outside of the walls. It was in that moment that he realised … he'd go to the ends of the Earth to make sure that the woman curled in his arms was safe. He'd do anything if it meant that she would never, ever come in harm's way. He pulled her face back up to his, gazing into her green, orb-like eyes for confirmation, before dipping his head down and capturing her lips, devouring her, tasting her… claiming her. She was his now, because, whacky as it sounded, he was nothing but a werewolf in love.