BTVS: Closet (7a/?)
Title: It Already Is (1/2)
Series: Closet
Author: Vashti tvashti
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character(s): Buffy, Oz, Willow, Giles
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Buffy acts strangely during her photography class assignments Oz knows something’s wrong, but no one expected this.
Length: ~6,000 words
Prompt: fanfic100 prompt 20 - colorless, alphabetasoup prompt C - Casuistry
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Dedication: Everyone who's still willing to read this after a year-plus hiatus!
Notes: I have been working on this one for well over a year. Hopefully it doesn’t feel that way when you read it. Also, the story is not a two-parter, but rather is a wee long so it's being broken up into two posts.
Buffy flashed a smile at Kyle, one of the two singers in Oz’s jazz band. “Thanks again, so much, for letting me use you guys as my subjects.”
Kyle’s smile had, of course, never dimmed.
“Not a problem. Any idea when the story’s going to print?” He had somehow gotten it into his head that Buffy was taking pictures for the school paper or some music journal, even though she'd been up front about working on a class project.
“Uh…” Buffy quickly looked away from Kyle and crouched over her camera bag. It and the camera had seen better days. She could actually hear the old brown leather bag creak and crackle when she was in a quiet room. “I have no idea, honestly.” She flashed him a quick smile over her shoulder. Maybe if these pictures came out well she actually would try shopping them to one of the school papers. And then Kyle would have his story. Wee.
He nodded, stuffing his hands in his back pocket and sticking out his chest.
It was all Buffy could do not to roll her eyes. Really?
A sudden hand on her shoulder startled her. She sat down hard. “Ow!”
“Sorry, Buff.” Frowning, Oz extended a hand. “Didn’t think I’d surprise you.”
Buffy let him pull her up. “Yeah, well, it happens.” Then tripped over her feet and stumbled right into him.
Oz still had the one hand. He braced her shoulder with the other. “You okay?”
“Momentary lightheadedness. But I’m good.” She slowly pulled away as the wave of dizziness passed.
Hand still gripping hers, Oz raised an eyebrow. “Sure?”
“Hello...” She took a quick glance over her shoulder but Kyle had wandered away. “...Slayer.”
“You’re sure.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oz. Seriously, it does happen. Just not often. Like the head cold last month.”
“ ‘Kay.” He let her go, his seriousness turning into a smile.
“Are you always this overprotective?”
Oz shrugged. “Just with people I like.”
Grinning, Buffy knelt over her camera bag again. “So Xander working a construction site must give you palpitations.”
“Not really.”
Buffy paused and gave him a puzzled look. “How does that make sense?”
“When Xander’s working a site, he’s doing what he knows. And he’s good at it. Why should I worry?”
“Because it’s, like, super dangerous? I don’t know.”
“Yeah but…it’s what he does.”
“So, what, you worry when he, I dunno…” Buffy hunted for a random un-Xander-like task. “…has to actually read a book during research sessions?”
Hands jammed into his pockets, Oz rocked back on his heels. “Oh, yeah. Brain-fry is more common than you think.”
Chuckling, Buffy finished fixing the bag and missed his small smile. She threw the strap over her shoulder and stood up. “So why are you worried about me? There’s no brain-fry here.”
“Sure there is. You’re worried about your photography grade.”
Buffy bit the inner part of her lower lip as her hand fiddled with a thread that had worked itself loose of the old leather. “Yeah, well…”
“So I worry.”
“That still seems sorta silly, Oz.”
“Nervous people can do dangerous things.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do, strangle myself with the camera strap? As if the thing doesn’t weigh a ton already.”
“You could accidentally splatter yourself with chemicals when you develop the pictures.”
“Gee, thanks Oz. As if my grade wasn’t worry-making enough.”
He cracked a smile. “You asked.”
“Well, that’ll learn me.”
One of the band members, Alexis, approached them. The neck of her guitar bumped and nodded over her head in its soft case. “Hey Buffy. Still hanging out?”
Buffy winced. “I kinda got caught by Kyle.”
“Ouch. If it makes you feel better, the last time I saw him he was on his way to go primp in the bathroom. I think he’s got a photo shoot or mall opening or a baby-kissing competition. Something like that.”
“Excellent. That gives me plenty of time to scoot!”
“So do you still need to run or do you have time to eat?” Alexis glanced at Oz, who shrugged.
“Um...” Buffy glanced down at her watch. “I've got time. Where were you guys headed?”
“Probably just pizza. There's not much else that really works on a starving artist's budget.”
It wasn't too long before Buffy was piled into Oz's van with Alexis, Marco the other guitarist, and Camille their keyboard player, for the drive into town. They had a drummer, Norm, but he wouldn't be out of class until 3 pm. Just like all any other 10th graders. There was also another singer, a young woman named Skylar, but she wasn't around.
“Wait, so where's Skylar again?”
Marco, sitting in the front seat, turned around. “One her way down from Washington.”
Buffy could feel the question on her face. “Gig?”
“Family.”
“Oh. Good, bad, indifferent?”
Marco grinned suddenly. “We'll find out tonight.”
“Oh. And Kyle will be there tonight, right?”
There was a collective sigh and nod, even from Oz.
Buffy waited until they were sitting around a scratched and chipped Formica table at the pizza place before bringing up Kyle again. “So if he's so annoying, why do you guys keep playing with him.”
“Fit,” was Oz's answer.
Alexis, Marco and Camille nodded. Camille, with red hair brighter and richer than Willow's, added, “And he's really, really good.”
“He can't be all ego,” Alexis said prosaically.
Buffy's brows rose. “Oh?”
“Yeah. We're real small potatoes. We're not looking to record. Not as a group. But Kyle still shows up for more rehearsals than not, and if he signs on for a gig he doesn't break it to do something else. He may have an ego the size of LA county, but he's reliable and steady.”
“Maybe he does it just for the ego stroke?”
The bandmates looked at each other, consulting silently. The shrugged, nodded-went back to their pizza.
“Hey, so I've been meaning to tell you how cool your camera is, Buffy,” Marco said. “Very retro.”
“I know, right?” She lifted it by the straps into her lap and pried the case half-open. “Very Natalie Portman in that movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart. But without the childbearing.”
There were nods all around. Except from Oz, sitting next to her, who seemed lost in thought. Or maybe it was lost in chords. His fingers were moving though his eyes were far away. Buffy bumped his hip with her own. “Earth to bassist.”
“I'm here.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Oz caught her eye. “I heard every word you said.”
“Uh huh.”
“You were comparing your camera to the one Novalee uses in Where the Heart Is. It's very similar.” At her frown, he explained, “That's Natalie Portman's character in the movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart.”
Buffy frowned. “Really? I thought her name was, like, America or something.”
“Her baby.”
“Hunh. So I guess you were listening.”
“Always.”
Grinning, she said, “One of the things I've always liked about you, Oz. That, and you don't freak out.”
Alexis snorted. “It's not possible. He's totally unflappable. We know, we've tried to flap him.” Each of them wearing mixed expressions of mischief, frustration and pure amusement, Alexis, Marcos and Camille took turns telling Buffy of every failed prank and averted disaster until she turned beet red from laughing.
§§§
Some nights it was hard to remember that she was there to take pictures for her Intro to Photography class. The band was that good.
It was hard to believe that Willow had introduced her to them just two years ago. It was hard to believe that she'd had to go without this for a whole year while Oz had been in Tibet doing his de-wolfifying thing.
If Kyle ever got a look at her work he'd know in an instant that she wasn't working for a paper. Her pictures were rarely of an individual, and if she had even one of the whole band she'd be surprised. It was the pieces that made the whole that fascinated her. Buffy had dozens of pictures of the line of Kyle's throat, his tendons standing up, or just the shadow his jaw cast along his neck. She could make a flipbook of the pictures she had of Oz, Marco and Alexis playing. Camille and Norman were the only two who got regular closeups. Their expressions, each wildly different from the other, were utterly compelling, especially Camille. Buffy had lots of pictures of Norman's hands at work-his sticks turned into butterfly wings on glossy paper. Nearly all of Buffy's pictures of Skylar were of her running her hands through her hair, or crushing it in a fist, or tugging on it.
There were times when she wished she had a video camera to capture the more subtle movements. She made up for it by snapping picture after picture. Nights like this, when the band was really in a groove, she was extremely grateful to her professor for lending her the camera. Old as it was, it actually had really great shutter speed. She clicked away all night, light-headed and giddy on the euphoria of the music. When they were playing, she loved the band. Really, really loved them. Group-hug loved them. Teeny-bopper fangirls had nothing on her right now. If Willow walked in, mid-set, and told her that all of the instruments had been bewitched and the band was tangling her in magical, musical web, Buff would have believed her in an instant. And the best part? The best part was she went back to her dorm with that euphoria humming in her veins. It had almost been enough to free her from her coffee addiction for one morning. Almost.
The first set was winding down. Even at only 35 or 40 minutes, it was obvious how draining playing was on everyone. Oz and his bandmates looked just as enthused as their audience felt, but they were often covered in sweat and the singers wouldn't speak unless they absolutely had to. Everyone would chug from their water bottles. Norman, Skylar and Marcos usually whipped out terry cloths to wipe down their sweaty foreheads and necks.
“We'll be back in ten,” Skylar said into her mic, a translucent bead of sweat on the tip of her nose. Buffy snapped a picture. “Don't go too far.”
People got up and stretched; they checked their cell phones. Some went upstairs to use the bathroom or get a drink. Buffy climbed on-stage to gush like a teenager in front of her favorite pop-star. “I know I said this yesterday, but, seriously? Best set yet, guys. You're all truly amazing.”
Kyle beamed. “We were great, weren't we?” With a smile that could be used to land planes on an overcast night, there was not even a hint of modesty in him. By comparison, Skylar was humble and the rest of the band were self-sacrificing ascetics.
“Do you guys mind if I take shots of your instruments while you're not using them?”
No one did. Kyle tried to make a joke about taking pictures of his vocal chords, but they all pretended not to hear him.
Behind the lens, it was almost surprising to learn just how appealing the instruments were on their own. The foot-pedal and snare drum were almost as sexy without Norman working them. Camille's keyboard seemed to glow, and Marcos' guitar radiated good humor. Then again she was feeling a little dizzy, so it was always possible that the “glow” and “good humor” were hallucinations. The microphones, however, were slightly stinky, sweaty messes. Buffy wrinkled her nose but took a few pictures anyway. “Take as many pictures as you can,” her professor liked to say. "Often the camera sees things you don't."
She was already thinking of the shots she would take of Alexis' guitar and Oz's bass, both sitting beside the stage near the door, when the Oz himself appeared. “Hey, Buff, you want anything? I'm going upstairs.”
Buffy turned slowly, first her head and then her body, to avoid a new wave of dizziness. It only helped a little. Squinting, she looked down at Oz. “No. I'm okay. I left my water down on the floor somewhere.”
“Are you sure you don't want something. You don't look good.”
“It's just the lights and the euphoria. Seriously, I'm fine.”
Oz's eyes narrowed but he let it go. Spying her water, he picked it up and held it up to her.
“Thanks, Oz.” Buffy went to the edge of the stage and reached down for plastic bottle.
And that was the last thing she knew.
continued in Part 2
Series: Closet
Author: Vashti tvashti
Fandom: Buffy the Vampire Slayer
Character(s): Buffy, Oz, Willow, Giles
Rating: PG-13
Summary: When Buffy acts strangely during her photography class assignments Oz knows something’s wrong, but no one expected this.
Length: ~6,000 words
Prompt: fanfic100 prompt 20 - colorless, alphabetasoup prompt C - Casuistry
Disclaimer: I don't know you. You don't know me. Let's keep it that way.
Dedication: Everyone who's still willing to read this after a year-plus hiatus!
Notes: I have been working on this one for well over a year. Hopefully it doesn’t feel that way when you read it. Also, the story is not a two-parter, but rather is a wee long so it's being broken up into two posts.
Buffy flashed a smile at Kyle, one of the two singers in Oz’s jazz band. “Thanks again, so much, for letting me use you guys as my subjects.”
Kyle’s smile had, of course, never dimmed.
“Not a problem. Any idea when the story’s going to print?” He had somehow gotten it into his head that Buffy was taking pictures for the school paper or some music journal, even though she'd been up front about working on a class project.
“Uh…” Buffy quickly looked away from Kyle and crouched over her camera bag. It and the camera had seen better days. She could actually hear the old brown leather bag creak and crackle when she was in a quiet room. “I have no idea, honestly.” She flashed him a quick smile over her shoulder. Maybe if these pictures came out well she actually would try shopping them to one of the school papers. And then Kyle would have his story. Wee.
He nodded, stuffing his hands in his back pocket and sticking out his chest.
It was all Buffy could do not to roll her eyes. Really?
A sudden hand on her shoulder startled her. She sat down hard. “Ow!”
“Sorry, Buff.” Frowning, Oz extended a hand. “Didn’t think I’d surprise you.”
Buffy let him pull her up. “Yeah, well, it happens.” Then tripped over her feet and stumbled right into him.
Oz still had the one hand. He braced her shoulder with the other. “You okay?”
“Momentary lightheadedness. But I’m good.” She slowly pulled away as the wave of dizziness passed.
Hand still gripping hers, Oz raised an eyebrow. “Sure?”
“Hello...” She took a quick glance over her shoulder but Kyle had wandered away. “...Slayer.”
“You’re sure.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “Oz. Seriously, it does happen. Just not often. Like the head cold last month.”
“ ‘Kay.” He let her go, his seriousness turning into a smile.
“Are you always this overprotective?”
Oz shrugged. “Just with people I like.”
Grinning, Buffy knelt over her camera bag again. “So Xander working a construction site must give you palpitations.”
“Not really.”
Buffy paused and gave him a puzzled look. “How does that make sense?”
“When Xander’s working a site, he’s doing what he knows. And he’s good at it. Why should I worry?”
“Because it’s, like, super dangerous? I don’t know.”
“Yeah but…it’s what he does.”
“So, what, you worry when he, I dunno…” Buffy hunted for a random un-Xander-like task. “…has to actually read a book during research sessions?”
Hands jammed into his pockets, Oz rocked back on his heels. “Oh, yeah. Brain-fry is more common than you think.”
Chuckling, Buffy finished fixing the bag and missed his small smile. She threw the strap over her shoulder and stood up. “So why are you worried about me? There’s no brain-fry here.”
“Sure there is. You’re worried about your photography grade.”
Buffy bit the inner part of her lower lip as her hand fiddled with a thread that had worked itself loose of the old leather. “Yeah, well…”
“So I worry.”
“That still seems sorta silly, Oz.”
“Nervous people can do dangerous things.”
Buffy rolled her eyes. “What do you think I’m going to do, strangle myself with the camera strap? As if the thing doesn’t weigh a ton already.”
“You could accidentally splatter yourself with chemicals when you develop the pictures.”
“Gee, thanks Oz. As if my grade wasn’t worry-making enough.”
He cracked a smile. “You asked.”
“Well, that’ll learn me.”
One of the band members, Alexis, approached them. The neck of her guitar bumped and nodded over her head in its soft case. “Hey Buffy. Still hanging out?”
Buffy winced. “I kinda got caught by Kyle.”
“Ouch. If it makes you feel better, the last time I saw him he was on his way to go primp in the bathroom. I think he’s got a photo shoot or mall opening or a baby-kissing competition. Something like that.”
“Excellent. That gives me plenty of time to scoot!”
“So do you still need to run or do you have time to eat?” Alexis glanced at Oz, who shrugged.
“Um...” Buffy glanced down at her watch. “I've got time. Where were you guys headed?”
“Probably just pizza. There's not much else that really works on a starving artist's budget.”
It wasn't too long before Buffy was piled into Oz's van with Alexis, Marco the other guitarist, and Camille their keyboard player, for the drive into town. They had a drummer, Norm, but he wouldn't be out of class until 3 pm. Just like all any other 10th graders. There was also another singer, a young woman named Skylar, but she wasn't around.
“Wait, so where's Skylar again?”
Marco, sitting in the front seat, turned around. “One her way down from Washington.”
Buffy could feel the question on her face. “Gig?”
“Family.”
“Oh. Good, bad, indifferent?”
Marco grinned suddenly. “We'll find out tonight.”
“Oh. And Kyle will be there tonight, right?”
There was a collective sigh and nod, even from Oz.
Buffy waited until they were sitting around a scratched and chipped Formica table at the pizza place before bringing up Kyle again. “So if he's so annoying, why do you guys keep playing with him.”
“Fit,” was Oz's answer.
Alexis, Marco and Camille nodded. Camille, with red hair brighter and richer than Willow's, added, “And he's really, really good.”
“He can't be all ego,” Alexis said prosaically.
Buffy's brows rose. “Oh?”
“Yeah. We're real small potatoes. We're not looking to record. Not as a group. But Kyle still shows up for more rehearsals than not, and if he signs on for a gig he doesn't break it to do something else. He may have an ego the size of LA county, but he's reliable and steady.”
“Maybe he does it just for the ego stroke?”
The bandmates looked at each other, consulting silently. The shrugged, nodded-went back to their pizza.
“Hey, so I've been meaning to tell you how cool your camera is, Buffy,” Marco said. “Very retro.”
“I know, right?” She lifted it by the straps into her lap and pried the case half-open. “Very Natalie Portman in that movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart. But without the childbearing.”
There were nods all around. Except from Oz, sitting next to her, who seemed lost in thought. Or maybe it was lost in chords. His fingers were moving though his eyes were far away. Buffy bumped his hip with her own. “Earth to bassist.”
“I'm here.”
“Yeah, sure.”
Oz caught her eye. “I heard every word you said.”
“Uh huh.”
“You were comparing your camera to the one Novalee uses in Where the Heart Is. It's very similar.” At her frown, he explained, “That's Natalie Portman's character in the movie where she gives birth in a Wal-Mart.”
Buffy frowned. “Really? I thought her name was, like, America or something.”
“Her baby.”
“Hunh. So I guess you were listening.”
“Always.”
Grinning, she said, “One of the things I've always liked about you, Oz. That, and you don't freak out.”
Alexis snorted. “It's not possible. He's totally unflappable. We know, we've tried to flap him.” Each of them wearing mixed expressions of mischief, frustration and pure amusement, Alexis, Marcos and Camille took turns telling Buffy of every failed prank and averted disaster until she turned beet red from laughing.
§§§
Some nights it was hard to remember that she was there to take pictures for her Intro to Photography class. The band was that good.
It was hard to believe that Willow had introduced her to them just two years ago. It was hard to believe that she'd had to go without this for a whole year while Oz had been in Tibet doing his de-wolfifying thing.
If Kyle ever got a look at her work he'd know in an instant that she wasn't working for a paper. Her pictures were rarely of an individual, and if she had even one of the whole band she'd be surprised. It was the pieces that made the whole that fascinated her. Buffy had dozens of pictures of the line of Kyle's throat, his tendons standing up, or just the shadow his jaw cast along his neck. She could make a flipbook of the pictures she had of Oz, Marco and Alexis playing. Camille and Norman were the only two who got regular closeups. Their expressions, each wildly different from the other, were utterly compelling, especially Camille. Buffy had lots of pictures of Norman's hands at work-his sticks turned into butterfly wings on glossy paper. Nearly all of Buffy's pictures of Skylar were of her running her hands through her hair, or crushing it in a fist, or tugging on it.
There were times when she wished she had a video camera to capture the more subtle movements. She made up for it by snapping picture after picture. Nights like this, when the band was really in a groove, she was extremely grateful to her professor for lending her the camera. Old as it was, it actually had really great shutter speed. She clicked away all night, light-headed and giddy on the euphoria of the music. When they were playing, she loved the band. Really, really loved them. Group-hug loved them. Teeny-bopper fangirls had nothing on her right now. If Willow walked in, mid-set, and told her that all of the instruments had been bewitched and the band was tangling her in magical, musical web, Buff would have believed her in an instant. And the best part? The best part was she went back to her dorm with that euphoria humming in her veins. It had almost been enough to free her from her coffee addiction for one morning. Almost.
The first set was winding down. Even at only 35 or 40 minutes, it was obvious how draining playing was on everyone. Oz and his bandmates looked just as enthused as their audience felt, but they were often covered in sweat and the singers wouldn't speak unless they absolutely had to. Everyone would chug from their water bottles. Norman, Skylar and Marcos usually whipped out terry cloths to wipe down their sweaty foreheads and necks.
“We'll be back in ten,” Skylar said into her mic, a translucent bead of sweat on the tip of her nose. Buffy snapped a picture. “Don't go too far.”
People got up and stretched; they checked their cell phones. Some went upstairs to use the bathroom or get a drink. Buffy climbed on-stage to gush like a teenager in front of her favorite pop-star. “I know I said this yesterday, but, seriously? Best set yet, guys. You're all truly amazing.”
Kyle beamed. “We were great, weren't we?” With a smile that could be used to land planes on an overcast night, there was not even a hint of modesty in him. By comparison, Skylar was humble and the rest of the band were self-sacrificing ascetics.
“Do you guys mind if I take shots of your instruments while you're not using them?”
No one did. Kyle tried to make a joke about taking pictures of his vocal chords, but they all pretended not to hear him.
Behind the lens, it was almost surprising to learn just how appealing the instruments were on their own. The foot-pedal and snare drum were almost as sexy without Norman working them. Camille's keyboard seemed to glow, and Marcos' guitar radiated good humor. Then again she was feeling a little dizzy, so it was always possible that the “glow” and “good humor” were hallucinations. The microphones, however, were slightly stinky, sweaty messes. Buffy wrinkled her nose but took a few pictures anyway. “Take as many pictures as you can,” her professor liked to say. "Often the camera sees things you don't."
She was already thinking of the shots she would take of Alexis' guitar and Oz's bass, both sitting beside the stage near the door, when the Oz himself appeared. “Hey, Buff, you want anything? I'm going upstairs.”
Buffy turned slowly, first her head and then her body, to avoid a new wave of dizziness. It only helped a little. Squinting, she looked down at Oz. “No. I'm okay. I left my water down on the floor somewhere.”
“Are you sure you don't want something. You don't look good.”
“It's just the lights and the euphoria. Seriously, I'm fine.”
Oz's eyes narrowed but he let it go. Spying her water, he picked it up and held it up to her.
“Thanks, Oz.” Buffy went to the edge of the stage and reached down for plastic bottle.
And that was the last thing she knew.
continued in Part 2