Title: Three Days Every Month

Summary: It's that time of the month for Oz and Willow. Inspired by my own fear about something similar happening to me.

Spoilers: Everything, I guess, but really nothing. Season four rumors about Spike.

Disclaimer: Of *course* they belong to someone else. I could never some up with characters like this. Specifically, they belong to Mutant Enemy, Fox, WB, and anyone else I forgot.

Rating: G, I think.

Distribution: Please ask. I'm not too sure anyone would really want it, though.

Feedback: Um, sure, I think. I'm not really a writer. I'm just trying to sort out what the voices in my head want me to do. There are just so *many* of them, telling me all sorts of different things, and I'm not sure which ones to listen to. Feedback would probably help. So would therapy, but I can't afford that right now, so I'll just try to keep on writing. The big question is this: Does anyone want to see any more of this?

"You remember what happened last time. We can't be around each other this time of the month."

Sighing, she nodded. "I keep hoping that things will be different one of these days. That we can be together through this. But you get distracted, I get sick, and then we're right back where we started. At least you're with someone I trust." Funny how those words just came out, unprompted and unexplained. She didn't mean how they probably sounded. Like she was suspicious of him.

But Oz just smiled. "Yeah, I know what you mean." It was understood, then, that they were both thinking about the Hellmouth. Gently, he kissed Willow for the last time he would be able to see her for three days. This monthly ordeal was torture, but he had to do it if he really wanted to be with her the rest of the month. "Besides, now you can work on that paper you just don't seem to be able to finish because of, ahem, distractions."

Willow smiled. "That's true. Then again, I'll be all distracted by your absence, so I'm not sure how everything balances out."

"Are you ready?" The blond head that went with the voice belonged to a body encased in tight jeans and a black leather trenchcoat, carrying a white plastic bag straight from the local drugstore.

Picking up his coat, Oz simply replied, "Let's roll."

Willow watched Spike and Oz leave. She always promised herself that she wouldn't cry, but she never managed. Even though it happened every month and even though it only lasted three days, she hated that there was nothing she could do about it. The dynamics of the group had changed since Angel left and Spike joined them. Oz finally had someone he could share this... situation with. She could never share this part of his life with him. Unfortunately, she couldn't stand Drusilla, the one other person she knew in a similar situation, so she was stuck alone during her time of need.

You see, Dru was allergic to Spike's hair bleach. And Willow was allergic to Oz's hair dye. It took three whole days for the chemicals to fully rinse out of their hair, during which time their respective girlfriends couldn't even be in the same room with them. So the two men joined forces to guarantee that they would be able to continue indulging their fancies of this nature. Spike had been appalled at the never-the-same-twice nature of Oz's color choices, but then Oz had been disgusted by Spike's refusal to do even merely dabble in different shades of blond, so they were even.

Listening to the werewolf and vampire roar off to their male bonding weekend of doing each other's hair, she couldn't help murmuring, "So goes another weekend in Sunnydale."

~~~ the end ~~~