Mbwa Mwitu

Chapter Summary: Oz awakens and goes to Tara: the authoress' first het sex. Xander recalls the demon that had poisoned Wesley.


Oz was barely aware that he was awake, for the tingling sensation coating his skin suggested that he was still asleep. It wasn't until the soft sound of voices, entering the room and heading in his direction, reached his ears that he forced himself to open his eyes. The ceiling, which was dark and homely in a creepy sort of way, was not the same ceiling he last remembered.

That ceiling had been pure white, with bright lights that would blind a normal creature. The room had been sterile, except the strong scent of his own blood and flesh. Scientist had stood around him, their faces hidden by the blaring lights and shiny surgical tools. That place had been pain and despair and loneliness.

"Oz?" A soft voice asked, as a familiar face appeared above him. Oz blinked and tried to get his vision to sharpen. "How are you feeling?"

"Tingle." Oz muttered, taking a deep breath and catching the strong scent of pheromones and semen, nicotine and leather, and chocolate and cloves.

"Uh, I think there's a bathroom on this floor." The face said, frowning slightly.

"I think he means his skin, love." Oz knew that voice. That cockney accent could be none other than Spike, which meant the face was Xander. Relief washed over Oz. He was safe. They had come to save them.

"What happened?" Oz croaked, trying to sit up. His skin felt weird. Tingly and stiff, as though he had a severe sunburn. He managed to get himself upright, twisting around until he was sitting normally on the sofa. He looked down, amazed to find that his skin didn't look weird at all. In fact, it looked normal.

"Bastards really did you in." Spike replied, draping one arm across his mate's shoulders. Oz noted their sappy and drained expressions, as well as the fact that they were only wearing jeans. "You know how they say there's more than one way to skin a cat? Well, I think they were trying to see if that's true for werewolves as well."

"Spike." Xander hissed. He sent Oz a sympathetic smile, which Oz returned. He could not only smell the lingering scent of blood on his new pack leader's body, but see the wounds left on his body. Xander shared a quick look with Spike, before sitting down next to Oz. "Oz... There are a few things you should know."

"Tara fixed you." Spike started, sitting down on the other side. Oz was suddenly hit by a wave of panic. What was wrong with Tara? Did she survive? Was she okay? "Calm down, pup."

"We lost Buffy in the fight against the Initiative." Xander continued. "And... Something did happen to Tara. She's okay! Except... I think you need to know this before you go looking for her."

Ten minutes and a pair of jeans later, Oz was slowly making his way upstairs. He passed the library, pausing long enough to give Angel and the others a nod, before continuing down the hall. His mind felt numb and yet he wondered if maybe he should have been mad. He was angry at those men that had dared to touch what was forever his. And, yes, if he had the chance he would rip them to shreds and feed on their flesh under the light of the moon.

Yet, he felt as though he wasn't required to do that. It was true, to an extent. He was in a pack now and, therefore, Xander was the one to call the shots. Xander would ensure that Oz received his vengeance. Knowing this gave Oz the ability to ignore his anger and focus on Tara's needs, instead.

Oz entered the large room that Xander had directed him to, the sound of the shower hitting his ears. Around him was the faint scent of lavender and magic, but it was tainted by hints of musk and arousal from more than one source. It was barely noticeable, at it would have been to anyone other than Oz. He took a deep breath, focusing on the lavender, before moving toward the bathroom door.

The door opened silently. Stepping inside, he could see the door to the shower stall and the flesh colored silhouette it provided. Tara's form was not moving and she appeared to be merely standing, with her hands pressed against the tile wall before her. Oz stepped closer, stopping when her voice broke through the sound of running water. "...Oz?"

"I'm here." Oz replied, feeling the strong urge to climb into the shower stall and press his body against hers. He held it down and instead watched as Tara moved behind the door.

"H-How are you?" Tara asked, her voice sounding raw.

"Fine." Oz assured her. "As good as new, it seems."

"I'm glad." Tara whispered.

"Tara?" Oz moved the last two steps to reach the shower. He placed his palm against the door, trying to indicate that he was there for her. "They told me."

"Everything, I suppose." Tara didn't sound surprised.

"Yeah." Oz agreed. "I... I'm here for you. Anything you need, Tara. I'll give you anything."

"Oz." Tara said his name almost like a sigh. The door opened slightly, allowing half of Tara's face to be seen. When she spoke her eyes kept darting away from him, as though embarrassed. "I don't want to sound as though I'm, well, rushing anything between us, but... Could you... Maybe... Hold me?"

"Of course." Oz replied. There was a pause. "Do you...?"

"Yeah." Tara nodded decisively, despite the strong blush spreading across her cheeks. "I still need to wash my hair."

"Okay." Oz nodded, before nervously reaching down to unzip his pants.

*****

"Do you remember what it looked like?" Angel asked, watching as Xander bit his lip in thought. Gunn paced behind the part-hyena, unable to do anything other than move restlessly. Laying on the love seat in the corner of the library, Wesley was wheezing in his sleep. The fever had yet to break and his skin continued to look sickly.

"It was tall..." Xander started slowly. Next to him, Spike watched his mate with half-lidded eyes. It was obvious that, despite the exercise the duo had gotten earlier, the vampire was becoming more agitated the higher the sun rose. "It looked kind of like a lion, with a reddish orange mane. Definitely a cat species."

"Nothing else?" Doyle looked as disappointed as the others felt.

"That's as close as I can get." Xander replied, sending Gunn an apologetic look.

"Alright." Gunn took a deep breath and began shoving books they had already read onto the shelves and pulling out new ones. "We know it's a cat demon."

"Now we just have to search through over two hundred types." Angel stated. "If you could help us, Xan-"

"No." Spike interrupted, standing.

"Spike, we need all the help we can get here." Angel insisted.

"And Xander needs sleep." Spike growled, baring blunt teeth. "We've both slept no more than four hours the past day, not to mention the lack of sleep for when we were apart. Just bloody well pick out all of the lion demons and let him look at them this afternoon."

"That's fine." Doyle said before Angel could respond.

"Come on, love." Spike ordered, gently. Xander, who was forcing down a yawn, stood up and followed Spike out of the room.

"I've got to call Willow." Xander mumbled as they reached their room. In the room next door they could hear Tara's shower going and Oz and her speaking softly.

"I'll call her, pet." Spike said, tugging Xander's clothes off. He pushed a nude Xander into the bed and covered him, before snatching the phone off the bedside table. Spike didn't stop to think about why there was a phone in there, since the room had to belong to someone if there was one. Instead, he was merely thankful for the dial tone and Giles' quick hello. "Hey, Rupes. Look, I need you to give Red a message for me. We need her to watch this Professor Walsh character's status. We want to know if she attempts to leave Sunnydale, got it?"

"A hello to you as well." Giles replied. "Is there an explanation to go along with this order?"

"It's because of her that Xander has no sense of smell and that Tara was... Well, let's just say that we have a few things to discuss with her." Spike growled into the receiver.

"Point taken." Giles stated. "Very well. I'll give her the message."

"...Thanks." Spike mumbled, as though it was hard to say the word.

"I take it everyone arrived safely?" Giles asked, before Spike could hang up.

"Yeah, yeah." Spike snapped. "We're in the mend. Now, if you don't mind, Xander needs to sleep."

*****

Oz had only been with one girl and that was Willow Rosenberg. Despite the fact that, yes, they had had sex, Oz couldn't begin to recall every detail of her body. In every memory, Willow was hiding under the covers or in the dark of the night. Not that Oz was attempting to imagine Willow naked at that exact moment. No, Oz was just trying to figure out if Tara's body was utterly beautiful because he loved her or if she was just sexier than any other woman.

Those thoughts quickly left his mind as he pulled Tara into her promised hug. Even though Tara was a few inches taller than him, she still managed to fit against his body like a puzzle piece. Her skin was soft and he could feel a mole on the small of her back, where his hands rested. Oz breathed in her scent, which was covered with scent of soap. Oz was thankful the men's scent was washed away, because he didn't know how well he would have been able to control himself.

"I love you." Oz found himself whispering into her shoulder. Tara pulled back and looked at him with gray eyes.

"I love you, too." Tara replied, smiling slowly. They merely stared at one another for a moment longer. It was strange, and Oz realized it, that they were standing naked in a shower stall barely days after getting together. Yet, the idea that they were moving too fast was barely acknowledged, since Oz knew Tara was all he needed. The wolf knew it as well.

"I was..." Oz paused, gathering his thoughts in order to find the right phrase. "I was terrified I'd never see you again."

"Funny. That thought never crossed my mind." Tara said, though her eyes told him differently.

Tara's face moved closer to his, question in her eyes. Oz closed on the last few inches between them and brushed his lips against hers. Tara let out a soft noise in the back of her throat, before suddenly deepening the kiss. Her hands tightened on his shoulders, gently pushing him until his back hit the tiled wall. Her tongue flicked across his lower lip, causing him to open his mouth and allow her in.

Oz didn't find it difficult, like some men would, to submit himself to Tara completely. She had complete reign of the kiss, her hands moving dominantly over his skin. He felt complete, and more than a little aroused, as her tongue delved into his mouth to touch his own. His own hands had moved to her hips, feeling her every shift. He felt the nails of one hand scratch up his side, before pressing it's palm against the wall behind him, as though blocking him in.

They parted, Tara's chest heaving from lack of air. They remained molded together, their noses nearly touching. Oz could feel her breasts, with each breath, press against his chest. One of her thighs brushed against his own. Tara gave him a shy smile, before slowly stepping away from him.

His eyes, of their own accord, left her face and traveled down her neck. They paused on her pale breasts and rosebud nipples. Past her chest, he spotted a large bruise on her hip. It was fading to a light greenish tone, but Oz could still tell it was in the shape of a hand. Another bruise rested on her inner thigh, drawing near the patch of curly blonde hair that resided between her legs. Tara's legs were as soft looking as the rest of her, but held a hint of muscles under the pale flesh. Yet another bruise wrapped itself around her ankle, sending flashes of images into Oz's mind.

He clamped his eyes shut, trying to will his imagination to stop. He forced the images, and along with them the agony of knowing just what happened to his mate, away. Reaching out a hand, he trailed his fingers across the bruise on her hip, reopening his eyes in the process. Tara watched him carefully, before taking his hand in her own and bringing it to her lips. She placed a soft kiss on his open palm and then tugged him forward.

"Don't think." Tara said, softly.

"I can't help it." Oz replied, giving into the temptation and nuzzling her neck.

"Hmmm." Tara hummed, slipping her arms around his shoulders. "Help me wash my hair?"

The act was so domestic and Oz simply reveled in that fact. Oz shampooed Tara's hair, massaging her scalp in the process. When he was finished, she turned back around and rinsed the soap off. He watched a small handful of suds slide down her chest and toward her stomach.

"Come on." Tara ordered, gently, as she shut the water off. She tugged his hand, pulling him out of the shower and into the steam filled bathroom. She reached over and grabbed a towel, wrapping it around him before grabbing her own. Oz had to smile as she dried her hair.

After picking up his jeans, he followed her into the outer room. Here the sight of the bed and Tara in just a towel caused him to pause. Nervousness sat at the pit of his stomach. It was by scent only that he noticed Tara approaching. Her forever lavender smell, topped with the crisp scent of soap, sent a wave of arousal down his spine.

"Oz?" Tara asked, tentatively. Oz looked at her inquisitively, trying to hide the conflicting emotions inside him. Tara didn't need him pawing at her or drooling over her. She'd just survived a terrible experience, at the hand of more than one man. Why would she want anything from him? Without realizing it, Oz began to growl. "Hey."

Oz opened his mouth to reply with something, anything, to keep himself from thinking. But that option was taken from him when Tara surged forward and pressed her lips against his. The kiss was overpowering. Tara bit down on his lower lip as her hands roughly yanked the towel and jeans away from him. The backs of his legs hit the bed, and soon he found himself being pressed into the dark comforter with Tara poised above him.

"Oz." Tara half-moaned, propping herself up with her arms and staring down at him with dilated eyes.

"Are you...?" Oz started, before his eyes fluttered shut as she shifted on top of him.

"Please don't make me beg, Oz." Tara whispered, her face lowering until it was pressed against his in a comfortable pressure.

"I would never make you beg." Oz replied, allowing his hands to rest on her bare hips. "I'm yours for the taking, Tara." Oz, for a split second, questioned the corniness of that statement. Yet, the bright smile slowly developing on Tara's face pushed the thought away. He forced his mind to return to the topic at hand, before the situation escaped him entirely. "Don't we need...?"

"No." Tara replied, before he could finish. It amazed him how they could finish each other's sentences. Tara bit her lip and looked away. "I cast a spell on, well, me. To keep anything from happening with the... Uh, that. It lasts a little over 72 hours, just to be sure. I'd say we have about a day, before it's effects wear off."

Oz's heart clenched at the thought that Tara had to even think about such spells. Gently, he slid his hand up her sides until they rest on her shoulders. He felt her shift above him again, her movement causing a shock of pleasure to hit his spine. Tara's lips grazed across his cheek, before meeting his lips in a chaste kiss. Her hands cupped his face, body moving around until she laid flush against him.

The act of sex had always felt primal to Oz. The animal inside him had always pushed to the front and, with Willow, he had to fight it down. Tara was different. They rolled, Oz's body pressing between Tara's legs and his hands slowly traveling the length of her body. The wolf surged forward, just as it always did, but strangely he could sense something within Tara rising to meet the wolf. Oz felt no urge to fight down the beast within. He felt unified, every aspect of his being meeting an equal counterpart in Tara.

Wolves and Nature. Otherworldly senses and magic. Pine and lavender. Male and female. Ying and yang.

Tara's legs wrapped themselves around his hips as he entered her, savoring the feel of her inner muscles tightening around him and her teeth biting down on his neck. Their movement became frantic. Oz held her tightly, keeping her body pressed against his. Their lips molded together, as seamlessly as the carnal pleasure itself.

Nails clawed at his back, no doubt leaving droplets of blood in their wake. The thought only served to add to his arousal, which was spiraling out of control as Tara arched against him. Sweat glistened across her chest, a siren begging to be lapped at by his tongue. Tara moaned, her fingers moving up to thread through his hair. His hands, previously wrapped around her waist, slid around her body to stroke the soft skin of her belly.

They were panting, likes wolves running through a forest in the direct path of their evening meal. Oz kissed her, slipping his tongue into her mouth and groaning from the taste. He allowed one hand to hold himself up, while the other trailed down her chest and farther down until he was able reach that wet place between her legs, where he felt he never wanted to leave.

Tara let out a gasp, her hand tightening painfully where it held his upper arm. Her breathing turned erratic, her teeth biting down on her lower lip as a soft keen escaped her chest. They're eyes locked, both being forced open when they wanted nothing more than to roll up into their heads. A tremor traveled through her body, as he felt her tighten around his cock. Her hips jerked to meet his thrusts, before her entire body went limp. Oz quickly followed her with his own release, eyes focused on her lower lip, which was bright red from her biting it.

Oz didn't know how long he laid there, arms wrapped around Tara with his forehead pressed between her breasts. Tara's hand lightly carded through his short hair, which he vaguely noted need a new dye job. When Tara shifted underneath Oz, drawing out a soft grunt from his throat, he finally managed to gather enough energy to look up at her.

"We should get under the covers." Tara whispered. Oz mutely followed her suggestion, wrapping the blankets around them and curling up against her side. He fell asleep to the feel of her breathing and her heart thudding in his ear.