Title: Richie
Author: meagan <nutmeg@serv.net>
Summary: Oz is back. Willow has a surprise waiting for him.
Distribution: Please ask.
Spoiler: "Wild at Heart."
Rating: G/PG
Disclaimer: The people are owned by Joss and company. I own Richie (well, not *him*, but two versions of him). You don't want him. Trust me. I have the scars to prove it.
Notes: I'm in a weird mood. I *never* write this sort of thing. Non-slash? Fluffiness? Conventional couple? I'm in an alternate universe or something. But it's still a bit angsty, so it's not a *complete* departure for me.

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After weeks of driving and thinking, he had come to one conclusion: He had a mate. He had protected that mate in the one way he knew how. Really, the only way he *could* given the threat involved.

But it was still hard to come to terms with what he had done.

Somehow, though, he had done it. Pulled through and realized that he needed to return. To be with his mate. To be there *for* his mate.

So he was back.

Standing there, watching her sleep in *his* bed while wearing *his* t-shirt, he could only smile. Her hair was scattered over her face, and her forehead was creased slightly, as if she was slightly concerned but not really *worried* about something. Every minute or so, her tongue would dart out and lick her lips. That was enough to entrance him. Finally, he couldn't stand being away from her one second longer. So, carefully, quietly, he settled on the bed next to her, gently licking her ear. He smiled when she just as gently swiped at his face with her hand.

"Richie, knock it off."

He froze. "Who the hell is Richie?"

"Oz?" No longer asleep, her eyes popped open. "Is that really you? Are you real? Are you back?"

He clenched his jaw when her arms wrapped around his neck, pulling him tightly against her body. "Yeah. It's really me." He removed her arms from their positions around him. "So who is Richie?"

"I --"

A knock at the door interrupted her explanation. Devon stuck his head in and tossed a small box on the bed. "Hey, Will, here's that ointment you asked for. You're going to have to have a talk with Richie and explain that he just can't do that to you." He finally stopped talking and blinked in shock. "Oz! You're back!" He grinned. "So, Will, how do you think Richie is going to handle sharing the bed with another guy?"

She sighed. "We hadn't gotten that far yet."

Devon's face fell. "Oh. Uh, I'm sorry. Just forget I said anything." He backed out of the room, closing the door quietly behind him.

"So." Oz stared at the closed door for a long moment. "Care to tell me about this Richie guy and why Devon is so laid-back about the whole thing?"

She sighed, falling back against the pile of pillows on the bed. "Take your shoes and socks off."

"Will --"

"Just do it? Please?"

"You can't avoid the question."

"Oz --"

He shook his head. "I'm not doing anything until I know who Richie is."

"It's not what you think."

"You know what? I guess I don't care. You're in *my* bed, wearing *my* shirt, and you're talking about some other guy? And *Devon* knows? Not cool." As he spoke, he stood and stalked over to the door. "Coming back wasn't such a good idea after all."

He opened the door to find Devon standing on the other side, arms folded, silly grin on his face. "No, Oz, you have to do what she says." When Oz continued to glare at him, Devon sighed. "Oz, man, it's a good thing. I promise. Well, *I* wouldn't necessarily think it's a good thing, but you probably will. Besides, everyone else has met him this way. You don't get to be special."

Faced with Devon's imposing form, Oz realized he was beat. He sat down on the floor and pulled his shoes and socks off. "Okay. Done. Can I leave now?"

"No." Devon continued to grin. "Now get in bed."

Oz obeyed. "So I'm in bed without shoes and socks. Thanks, you two, it makes *so* much sense now. I can go on with my life."

"Wiggle your toes." He hadn't noticed Willow leaning in and whispering the words in his ear. Angry eyes flashed at her, and she cringed at the power behind them. "Please?"

When Oz continued to ignore her request, Devon spoke up again. "Oz, would I ever tell you to do something that would hurt you? I mean, something like this?"

Finally, Oz sighed. "Two more minutes, and I'm out of here."

"That's enough time." Willow's voice was so sad and small that it took all of Oz's restraint to not grab her and sink his face in her hair, stroking her back and murmuring comforting things to her.

But she had said someone else's name -- in her sleep while in his bed, no less -- when he had returned to her. The sooner he did what she asked, the sooner he could get out of there and put the first twenty years of his life behind him. He wiggled his toes.

And almost jumped out of the bed when tiny claws and teeth sank into his big toe.

Quickly, he threw the comforter to the end of the bed. There, curled up against his foot and chewing on his pant hem, was the tiniest ball of orange fluff he had ever seen. "Richie?"

"Yeah. After Richie Cunningham." Devon beamed. "I'll leave you three alone now." Once again, he closed the door behind him as he left.

"Oz, Richie. Richie, Oz." Willow sighed. "So now you know."

"*This* is Richie?" Oz carefully picked up the tiny feline. "When did you get him?"

"About a month ago, a stray cat had a litter in Xander's room. Well, only three lived. The mom kitty ended up getting hit by a car, and so he was stuck with three teeny, tiny kittens with no mom. Anya decided I needed one, so here he is. The other two went to other students. It's a good thing he's that size. He's still on the bottle, so he has to go everywhere with me." She sighed once more. "And so he sleeps with me. He keeps me not as lonely as I was."

"And the name?"

She shrugged. "What can I say? Anya discovered Nick at Night." Now she smiled at the pair -- Oz with his head bent over his lap, enthralled with the kitten attempting to grab his hair and nose. "Is everything okay?"

"Of course." He leaned over and gently kissed her forehead. "I'm really, really sorry about what I said. Jumping to conclusions before getting all the facts. You have to admit, though, that things seemed suspicious." She nodded, moving her hand to stroke his cradling the kitten. "I'm not sure -- Actually, I do know why I said that. I'm afraid of losing you. Every time I go away from you, I realize just how important you are to me. And you just get more important every time." A paw connected with Oz's nose. "And I don't want you to be a single mom." The paw swiped again, this time making firmer contact with Oz's skin. "So, the ointment?"

"Oh! I forgot all about that!" Shyly, she turned around so her back was to him and pulled her shirt off, revealing pale skin marred by many scratches of varying sizes and severity. "Can you help? I don't want them to get infected."

He spent a long time making sure every scratch was clean and protected with antibiotic ointment. Then, later, she did the same for him.

Starting with his nose.

~~~ the end ~~~