"So, Amy, when did you stop being a rodent?" Oz asked the raven-haired woman in a purple dress next to him at his table. Amy took a moment to finish the mouthful of meringue she, like the other guests, had been given as dessert at the reception.

"Willow finally managed to de-rat me in her sophomore year at college. It took her long enough. I tell you, if I never see a slice of apple again it'll be too soon." She grinned. "Mind you, Willow forgot I was still Amy half the time. That cage. I've seen both you and Xander with Willow, naked and. . ." she stopped abruptly as a blonde girl in a mint green dress sitting next to Amy elbowed her in the ribs. Amy glared at her, then addressed Oz. "Have you met Tara, my girlfriend?"

"No. Nice to meet you," Oz said, with a nod in Tara's direction.

"Tara's a Wicca too. We met at the college coven."


"Oz is a werewolf," Amy told Tara matter-of-factly.

"Oh. That must be t-tough."

Oz shrugged. "I'm pretty much used to it."

Tara smiled at him again, then went back to eating her meringue. Amy whispered something in her ear, and Tara choked back a giggle at whatever it was. Oz's hearing picked up something about Willow's love-pillows, and decided to screen out the conversation.

He scanned around the room, the function suite of one of Sunnydale's better hotels. As in, it wasn't the dingy motel. And he was here, at Xander and Willow's reception. He'd kept his promise to Xander. Despite her threats, Cordy too had stayed quiet. Xander and Willow had seemed happy, in the end, so . . . maybe it was the right thing to do.

Confetti littered the floor, and what he supposed was meant to be romantic classical music echoed tinnily from the speakers on the walls. The speeches and toasts were all over, and the guests, in clumps around the room, were now easing into the night, fuelled by wine and beer and whisky.

He sat in the same tux he'd worn to his graduation - it still fitted after all, his pale red hair spiked up even more than usual. The other seat next to him was vacant, Cordelia haven forsaken dessert ("My figure!") to go and chat to Giles, who apparently didn't like meringue either. Oz looked over to where they were standing, noting that Joyce was draped across Giles' arm in a midnight blue dress. They had, apparently, started dating at the end of Buffy's freshman year and were now talking about marriage themselves.

Buffy, for her part, in a pink bridesmaid's dress, was sitting sipping wine next to Riley. The soldier sat stiffly in his chair, looking for all the world like a waxwork dummy. Along from the couple was Willow, standing next to an uncomfortable looking Xander, talking to her parents. Will was wearing an understated ivory gown, Xander the traditional tux.

In another part of the hall was Angel, also in tux, talking to Wesley. After the bachelor party the two had gone back to Angel's hotel room, and had spent the night just kissing and talking. He wondered which part of that people would be more surprised at: them kissing or them talking. The vampire caught Oz's gaze for a moment and smiled. Oz returned the favour, before Angel was distracted again by the Watcher.

Oz turned as a figure walked past his table. It was Anya, the ex-demon who'd taken Xander to the Prom. She was in a jet back dress, with a veil draped across her face, dabbing a lace handkerchief to her eyes.

Following his gaze, Amy leant across and, with barely disguised mirth, whispered in Oz's ear, "She's in mourning for the loss of Xander to Willow. Apparently she never got over her crush on him at the end of High School."

"She only went to the Prom with him," Oz said, turning to look at her in bemusement.

"Anya is several Latin phrases short of an incantation. What do you expect?"

Oz considered his reply, but before he could answer, a blunt voice hollered in his ear.

"You. You're the werewolf?"

Oz looked to the source of the voice and saw it was Anya.

"Not publicly," he stated, with raised eyebrow.

"You used to date the Painted Jezebel over there," she said, indicating Willow. "Go take her back."

"Take her back?"

"Xander is mine. He took me to the Prom. He gave me a corsage. We shared quality time. He gave me a hickey! That meant something. Go and declare your love for the Sinful Tramp so she dumps him and then he'll fall in love with me." Oz heard Amy and Tara snort behind him.

"I don't think it actually works like that."

"Make it work. I'll pay you. I have contacts." She was speaking very loudly now, enough so that other guests were beginning to stare. "I can give you spells that'll make your hair stand on end."

"It kinda already does that," Oz replied, to giggles from Amy and Tara.

"You must want something?" Anya pleaded, not realising that Giles and Joyce were looming behind her now.

"I'm sure he wants left alone by you." Giles' inflection was one Oz remembered well as his 'teacher' voice.

The ex-demon spun around to face him. "Look, I don't have to listen to you. You're a sad, pathetic. . . high school librarian. Leave me alone," Anya retorted.

It was Joyce who responded. In an eerily sunny Stepford voice she said, "Insult Rupert again and I'll slap you so hard your whiny, little jaw will break in four different places. Now go away."

Anya silently fumed for a moment then stalked off towards the restrooms.

"Thanks." Oz got to his feet and nodded greetings to the pair.

Giles dipped his head in return, whilst Joyce leaned over and kissed him on the cheek. "Oz honey, I'm so glad you got your invite."

"Uh, yeah - so was I."

"I had real trouble tracking down your address, let me tell you."

"That was you?"

Joyce preened slightly. "Oh, yeah. I was helping Sheila send them all out, but when we came to yours there wasn't an address. So, I went round to your old house and the new occupant gave me your mother's forwarding address. I wrote to her, and she sent me on your address in Canada. Quite an adventure."

Oz nodded - his mother had moved to Philadelphia shortly after he'd left Sunnydale; he kept in touch with her, but things were strained.

Giles was frowning. "That's odd. After you left we tried to find out where you'd gone. Xander went round to your house but he said that there was no forwarding address. . ." Giles trailed off as he put the pieces together. "Oh."

"I got the address no problem. I guess he must have gone to the wrong address," Joyce ventured.

Glancing at Giles, Oz mumbled, "Guess so."

They were disturbed by the sudden cacophony of Amy and Tara fussing over Willow, who'd seemingly wandered over to their table. As the other two women congratulated her, Willow looked up and met Oz's eyes. She smiled and gave her excuses to them, then moved towards Oz, Giles and Joyce.

"Willow dear, congratulations again," Joyce said, embracing the new Mrs. Harris.

"Yes, yes, absolutely," Giles added, giving Willow a hug when Joyce pulled back. Then he gestured to Joyce, "I think we should go and speak to Buffy."

"Oh, but I haven't spoken to Willow yet," Joyce replied, a pout forming on her lips. Giles cleared his throat and looked meaningfully from Joyce to Oz and Willow. Her eyes widened as the penny dropped, and she hurriedly said, "But, uh, that can wait. Buffy. . . can't."

The couple then walked off towards Joyce's daughter. Noticing Amy and Tara were watching Willow and he with interest, Oz whispered, "Come on," and guided his old girlfriend away to a quieter part of the room. Then they stopped, and turned to face each other.

"I'm so glad you came, Oz," Willow beamed, before wrapping her arms around him. "I really am." Her voice dropped to a bare whisper, "And I'm so pleased about you and Angel. I'm stunned - but in a good way."

Oz released her. "You heard about that, huh?"

"So it's true? Eek! I thought Xander might be making fun of me."

He shrugged. "Depends on what 'it' is."

"Well, you're seeing him."

"Something's happened, sure. I don't really know what."

"What about the whole curse thing? I mean, Xander said you'd, y'know, had sex."

"Xander never did understand the whole 'secret' thing that well, did he? But. . . it hasn't come up. I'm not Buffy." Oz allowed a small, bitter smile to cross his face.

"He'll only change if he and Buffy. . .?"

"Only if he loves them, truly."

"Oh. Oh! Oh."


She smiled at him. "Well, I could see if there's any spells that'll maybe help. I could ask Tara and Amy, too."

"I don't think gypsy curse were meant to have get-out clauses."

"Well, we'll try," Willow responded, a look of pity in her eyes.

"Will - how d'you think Buffy'll react if she finds out? It's just that I prefer Angel not looking like the birdseed in a Road Runner cartoon."

"Oh, I don't. . . she still cares for him, Oz. She might be. . . upset, maybe, at first. But not vampicidal. Well, no more than is normal for a Slayer, obviously."

"And you? You're OK with this? Whatever it is." Oz searched Willow's face for an answer. Neither of them noticed Cordelia was now making her way towards them.

After a moment, Willow laughed. "I think I can get over my ex-boyfriend being gay."

It was Cordelia who spoke next, "You've taken this awful well. I mean, I'd be in hysterics. If I ever thought any of my significant others might possibly be gay."

Oz tried to direct a warning look to her, to tell that this wasn't what Cordelia thought. Willow frowned, and said, "Cordelia, I don't see Oz anymore. I just want him to be happy. It doesn't bother me with who."

Oz tried to interject, "Cordelia, not now."

Cordy ignored him. "It doesn't bother you that he was with your husband? How very new-age of you."

"Cordelia, Oz is seeing Angel, not Xander!" Willow obviously thought that Cordy had her wires crossed.

Oz was desperate, "Cordelia!"

A confused look clouded Cordelia's face. "No, Oz cheated on you with Xander, not Angel."

"But, he's with Angel." Willow's voice began to quaver, as some pieces began to slot together.

"Willow, we need to talk. But not here," Oz said, placing a hand on Willow's shoulder.

Cordelia regarded Oz, "Wait. She thinks you're with Angel. Please tell me you've made that one up."

"Cordy, will you go away," he answered, not taking his gaze from Willow, who was now silent and open-mouthed.

"Oh, my God. You've had sex with Angel too. All that's left is Giles!" Cordy squealed, and guests now turned their attention to this new argument.

Willow turned to face Oz. "Oz, tell me Cordy has this all wrong. Tell me you aren't - you didn't - do anything with Xander."

Oz swallowed heavily, but said nothing.

"Oz. . ." she said, in a pleading voice, tears welling in her eyes.

He croaked, "It was a long time ago."

Cordy jumped in, "And tell me you aren't doing the dirty with my boss."

Oz turned to look at her, flint in his eyes. "Cordelia, fuck off."

The actress squeaked in indignation, but then her mouth dropped open as Willow's hand came up in a wide slap to Oz's face. The watching guests groaned in response.

The witch said quietly, "Go. Go now."

"Willow. . ." This was Xander, who had moved over to his new wife as the argument had heated. He shot an accusing glance at Oz.

She whirled round to face him, a tear tracing her cheek. "Xander, have you slept with Oz?" Her voice was loud, and most of the guests were whispering to each other.

"Uh, well, technically yes, but it was six years ago," he replied, fear wide in his eyes.

"So you were the one Oz cheated on me with?"

"I guess. . ." Xander trailed off, unable to think of a quip that could save him now.

She began to cry now, and the betrayed look in her eyes sent Xander's gaze in another direction. "All that time you sat and told me you couldn't believe Oz had cheated on me, how you would be there for me, how you loved me. . . it was all lies."

"Oh, Willow, I do love you. I never lied about that. And I meant to tell you - I was just scared."

"Scared I would be upset? Well, yeah, I think that happened."

"Willow, honey? What's happened?" Willow's mom Sheila said as she approached the group.

"Oh, mom." began Willow, before she was overtaken by more sobs.

"What the hell's going on?" Buffy waded into the crisis, Riley and Angel following in her wake.

"Buffy. . ." Willow managed, before rushing to hug her mother, weeping into the yellow fabric of her dress.

It was Cordelia who answered, taking a cigarette out of her case as she did so. "It turns out Xander and Oz were fucking each other. And now Oz has moved onto Angel."

Angel looked at Oz in surprise, and Buffy and Riley looked at Angel in amazement. Sheila gave an outraged look at Oz and Xander, and Cordy lit her cigarette.

"Look," cried Xander, "it was six years ago."

"Oh, well that makes it OK then," Cordy commented sarcastically.

Giles and Joyce now appeared, followed by Ira Rosenburg and Xander's father. All four had different looks on their face, from bemusement to anger.

"You'd better have a brilliant excuse for this," Xander's father warned him darkly.

Buffy, meanwhile, was looking at Angel, "I can't believe you. You're seeing Oz!"

Angel's face creased in annoyance. "Buffy, exactly when do I have to pass my girl or boyfriends past you for approval?"

"That's not the point. I. . . You should have told me. . ." Buffy trailed off, staring at the vampire in a look that suggested betrayal. It was one Riley didn't miss.


"Because. You're still. . . well. . ." Buffy realised too late where she was heading.

Riley looked at his girlfriend with disgust. "I'm fed up with this, Buffy. I try to be everything you want me to be, but all the time I know I'm under his shadow," a hostile glare at Angel, "and I can't do anything to better him. I think you're more upset he's with Oz than you would be if I was. Make up your mind. It's either me or him."

"This is just great. I don't need this right now, Riley. You know I love you," Buffy countered.

"More than him?"

"In a different way."

The soldier sighed. "I can't win. I need to go think." He turned on his heel, and made for the exit, shaking off Graham's concerned presence as he left.

"Riley!" Buffy shouted after him. "Stop acting like a baby!" But he was gone.

Xander, meanwhile, was talking to Willow. "Will, I'm so sorry. Please, I'll do anything."

"Go away!" was the muffled reply. "Mom, I want to go. Can we go?"

"Of course."

They made for the door, followed by Willow's father and Giles and Joyce, who hitherto had just stared at the exchanges in shock.

Buffy looked at Angel. "I'll speak to you later." Then Oz. "Why did you have to wreck this for her?"

"Buffy, I never meant this to happen."

"You shouldn't have come back then," the Slayer replied, before starting to walk after Willow. She turned as Xander made to go with her, "Follow us and I'll break your legs, Xander. Leave it for now."

The groom stood, mouth open and silent as he watched Buffy go. Then his father came up to him. "Don't think you're coming home either, you little faggot. You're no son of mine."

"Dad, don't, please. . ." Xander began, but the other man was already gone.

Then Anya was at his side, grinning happily. "This is so good. The Skanky Ho has gone and now you're going to fall in love with me."

"Anya, go away and return to the pit of Hell from whence you came."

She shrugged. "You'll come round. After all, who else is going to want you after this? I'll be at home if you want an orgasm." Then she, too, made for the exit, leaving Xander alone, the remaining guests staring and giggling. Tears brimmed across his eyes, then with a single yelp, he sank to his knees and hung his head, sobbing silently.

Angel laid his hand on Oz's shoulder. "I think we'd better leave."

Oz nodded. "Buffy was right. I should never have come."


Oz and Angel walked silently along the road toward the motel, the vampire occasionally giving Oz a concerned look. The smaller man had barely said a word since they'd left the hotel. Matters had got worse before they left; Wesley had been instructed by Angel to look after Xander but before the ex-Watcher was able to do anything, Xander had fled the hotel, crying, probably going after Willow. Cordelia had also stalked off, so Wesley had then decided to return to Giles' place, where he was staying, and he and Angel and Oz had left to the stares and comments of the other guests, actions that had evidently hurt the werewolf deeply.

Amy and Tara had gone with them too, asking if they could do anything, but with a sad smile of thanks Oz had waved them away, muttering that he just needed think about things. The two witches had nodded then headed for their own homes, Wesley moving off shortly thereafter.

So Angel alone had walked Oz back. He'd awkwardly took Oz's hand at one point, squeezing it gently, but the smaller hand was just removed, and returned to the side of its owner. He let Oz be; brooding was a personal thing, and he should know.

They reached the motel, and ascended the stairs to the room. They entered and Angel, after shrugging off his duster, opened the mini-bar.

"You want a drink?"

Oz nodded. "Bourbon?"

"Can do," Angel replied, lifted the little bottle out and threw it to Oz.

The smaller man caught it, and as Angel shut the bar again, said, "You're not having any?"

"Alcohol makes me too happy," Angel said by way of explanation, to a sagely nod from Oz, who then unscrewed the cap and downed the bottle's contents, grimacing slightly.

"Better," he said, and threw the bottle into the wastebasket. He looked at Angel. "Do I get a prize for that level of carnage?"

Angel smirked despite himself, then adopted a more serious tone. "Don't be too hard on yourself Oz. You couldn't have known that this would happen."

A trademark shrug. "But Buffy was right, if I hadn't come, none of this would have happened."

"It would have; Willow would have found out about you and Xander sooner or later."

"But not on their wedding day."

"True. But if you hadn't come this wouldn't have happened either," Angel said, leaning in to brush his lips across those of Oz.

"It appears in the plus column for the visit, which is otherwise quite empty."

Angel laid his hands on Oz's shoulders. "I'm heading back to LA soon. Come with me."

"What about Cordy? She didn't seem too happy just now." Oz moved closer to Angel's body, allowing the vampire's hands to link around his neck, the broad chest to press against his face.

"She'll be fine, she just hates not knowing what's going on. We can always do with the help."


"Oz, I want you to come. Think about it please," Angel whispered, leaning down to run his tongue along the rim of Oz's ear.

"What about the curse?" Oz asked as he arched into Angel's mouth.

"It's not an issue, not yet. I'll get Wesley to look into ways of getting around it. If we can't - we'll cross that bridge when we come to it," Angel replied, nuzzling Oz's hair with his nose, planting a kiss through the ginger locks on Oz's head.

"Maybe we should get a family pack of Thessulan Orbs just in case."

Oz felt the smile through his skull. "I'll order them tomorrow."

Angel drew back his head and looked at Oz, stared into his green eyes and smiled more, and then they kissed, full and deep, and Angel was glad he'd gone to the drugstore that morning.

He broke off the kiss, running his tongue across his lips. His eyes trailed up and down Oz's besuited body, and then returned to the green eyes. Oz nodded assent, and Angel, grinning, began to strip, the tux jacket and bowtie flying across the room. The shoes and socks were kicked off. Oz watched with the slightest trace of a smile, which grew as the shirt was pulled off and the pants were slipped down so that Angel stood only in his black trunks, arousal plain. Oz's own erection pushed against his underwear, and Angel's gaze showed that he knew.

"You're still dressed," the vampire growled, and licked his lips.

"Am I?" Oz said, sounding almost surprised. Then, slowly, the smaller man removed his clothes, pale skin exposed to the dim light of the hotel room at not nearly as fast a rate as Angel wanted. The vampire let out an appreciative sigh when the shirt was removed, exposing some bead necklaces and hardening pink nipples to the cool air of the bedroom. Then, finally, Oz too was in only his Daffy Duck boxers, forced out in front of him by his hard-on. Their eyes met again, and for a moment both were still, then both took the waistband of their respective underwear and yanked it down and off.

They stood, naked and hard, neither making a move until Angel grabbed his cock with one hand and began to run his hand up and down the swollen shaft, the hooded tip sliding in and out of view. Licking his palm, Oz took his own and began to pump, quietly amazed by how near to climax he already felt.

"Angel. . ." he hissed, and the vampire suddenly closed the distance, grabbing Oz's head and kissing him roughly, the scratch of stubble burning both men. Then they toppled onto the bed, hands running across bare chests and caressing the compact muscles and the fleshy lumps that were peaked with excitement and arousal. Oz's hips bucked in instinct, pushing his hardness against Angel's belly, leaving sticky fluid in a snail's trail across the vampire's abdominals.

He sucked on the vampire's lower lip, desperately pulling the cool body close to his, as if he wanted to physically become one. Angel groaned into the kiss, then his hand reached out to the bedside table for the bottle of lube and the packet of condoms that lay there. Oz took the condoms from him and kissed his way down Angel's chest, nipping at the vampire's teats with his teeth.

"Hey, no biting," Angel said, even as he grunted in pleasure.

The kissing continued down to the drooling hardness of Angel's cock, and Oz performed the same trick on Angel as he had Xander some years before. The condom was applied orally, and Oz moved back up to meet the surprised expression on Angel's face with a kiss.

"Where'd you learn to do that?"

"I practised on a banana," Oz replied, as if this were entirely normal.

"Good trick."

"Thanks. And now for my next one."

The werewolf squeezed some lube from the bottle and began to apply it to both himself and Angel, gasping a little as the cold jelly touched his own skin.

"You're OK with this?" Angel asked.

Oz nodded. "I put on the condom, remember."

"Just checking."

And then, with Oz on top, Angel slid, slowly, carefully, delicately into the little man, sighing as the tightness encased him. Through the initial pain to the interesting and definitely pleasurable pressure Oz was quiet, leaning down to Angel's face to cover the puffy lips with his own.

They moved and kissed and thrusted and squeezed and scratched and moaned for what might have been five minutes or might have been an hour. Both were dripping with sweat, and Oz was red with effort, even though Angel remained as pale as ever.

Angel thrusts picked up in tempo, his hand wrapped around Oz's cock, their eyes met and Oz nodded and Angel let out a cry as he peaked, and as he subsided, he kept stroking Oz and the werewolf let loose too, creamy wetness sprayed across Angel's chest.

They kissed a last time, wet and breathless, Angel sliding out from Oz and removing the protection. Oz pushed himself as close as he could to the cool skin of Angel, and the vampire revelled in the warmth of the werewolf's body. Both fell asleep, content.


Oz awoke with a start. Angel wasn't next to him. Then he heard movement, and looked over the bed to see Angel, naked, and writhing on the floor. The pale man suddenly opened his mouth and let out a strangled moan. Oz jumped out of bed.

"Angel, what's wrong?"

"Oz. . . go. . . leave. . . happened. . . again."

"What has? Angel?"

The vampire let out another moan, and then lay still.

"Angel?" Oz crouched down to his lover and placed a freckled hand on the cool shoulder. As he did, Angel stirred, and then stood up, Oz rising with him.

"Are you OK?" Oz asked, frowning as he peered at Angel's face. The vampire smiled.

"Sure, I just wasn't. . . myself for a while. But I'm. . . heh, doing good now."

"You sure?" Oz asked, only for Angel to turn away, and look out of the window to the night sky.

"You were a good fuck, you know. Better than Buffy." He turned to face Oz again, "Yeah, you were good. Nice and tight. That was Buffy's problem, she was really loose. Which surprised me because I thought I was the one who plucked her cherry. So, either she was lying, or all that high kicking did more damage than I thought." He smirked. "Anyway, enough small talk. I'm hungry."

"Shit." whispered Oz, as the penny dropped, and he began to edge towards the door.

"Forget it, you won't have the time."

"I thought you said that you wouldn't turn," Oz said, his voice still, somehow, calm.

Angel sniffed and shrugged. "Hey, I was wrong. Luckily for me."

Oz made to run for the door but Angel was there too quick and slammed Oz up against the thin walls of the hotel room by his neck. The smaller man dangled in Angel's grip, eyes wide with fear.

"I've never drunk werewolf blood before. Still, there's always a first time. And seeing as I'm so hungry and you're OK in bed, I won't torture you first. I might even turn you - now that would fuck up the Wicca bitch that got my soul back. How about it?"

His windpipe crushed buy the force of Angel's grip, Oz couldn't reply. Instead he delivered a violent kick to the vampire's stomach. Angel bent with the force, wheezing as the redundant air was pushed from his lungs. He held onto Oz, though, and when he looked back up his face was hard, his eyes a glittering yellow, and his fangs sharp. He delivered a brutal punch to Oz's jaw with his spare hand, causing his prey to grunt in pain.

"Now look, I was going to be nice to you. Don't make me regret that." Regaining his composure, Angel ran his tongue along one fang, and ran his gaze up and down Oz's naked body. "Y'know, the neck is only the traditional place for a vampire to feed. Easier, what with the jugular and all that. There are other places though. The wrist, the crook of the arm, the ankle," he let a finger brush Oz's cock, smirking, "anywhere that has a big vein."

Sweat beaded Oz's forehead as he searched for a way out. He couldn't see one.

Normally, in situations of high stress, he wasn't one to panic. That function was usually left to Xander or Wesley. However, in this case, he felt quite justified in wondering if it was too late to make his peace with God. For a moment, he reflected on the irony of the fact that he had come back to Sunnydale to die.

Then Angel spoke again, looking into Oz's eyes. "But, as you are my first werewolf, I think I'll just stick with tradition. Thanks for the fuck."

Angel lunged and as he shut his eyes, Oz felt the fangs pierce his skin.