Hurts So Good
When I was a young boy,
Said put away those young boy ways
Now that I’m gettin´ older so much older
I long all those young boy days
With a girl like you
With a girl like you
Lord knows there are things we can do, baby
Just me and you
Come on and make it a

Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don’t feel like it should
You make it hurt so good

You don’t have to be so excitin´
Just tryin´ to give myself a little bit of fun, yeah
You always look so invitin´
You ain´t as green as you are young
Hey baby it’s you
Come on girl now it’s you
Sink your teeth right through my bones, baby
Let’s see what we can do
Come on and make it a

Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don’t feel like it should
You make it hurt so good

I ain’t talkin´ no big deals
I ain’t made no plans myself
I ain’t talkin´ no high heels
Maybe we could walkin´ around, all day long,
walkin´ around, all day long

Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don’t feel like it should
You make it hurt so good
Hurt so good
Come on baby make it hurt so good
Sometimes love don’t feel like it should
You make it hurt so good

~*~*~*~

It was a dark night. Not that there isn’t a shortage of those in Sunnydale,  but tonight, it was particularly dark to me.

I was by myself, separated from the group, for the simple reason that I  wanted to be alone.

My mind was whirling. I had known from the beginning that Buffy Summers was  peculiar. I had known from the beginning that there was something just a  little bit different. I didn’t know when she had changed into special, and I  didn’t know when that changed into something else.

I didn’t know how I fit into her life now, or how she fit into mine.

I knew now what the attraction was.  There was a mystery to her, an urge to  uncover the secret, the attraction manifesting itself so deeply that I knew  that no matter how many secrets she had, no matter how many secrets I kept,  I still wanted to be near her.

And I couldn’t be near her. Not right now. She had asked for time, time to  digest what this was, what she wanted.

I swallowed, hefting my gun and trying to keep my mind on the foliage of the  forest, finding instead my mind wandering back to Buffy.

I bet it was cause I wasn’t what she wanted.  She wanted a normal guy, and  instead, she got me. Super wannabe Commando.

Funny. I thought that maybe this gig could have been a chick magnet, not a  repellant. What was it they said about girls and guns and sex?

Sex and Buffy, now THERE was a distracting thought.

I closed my eyes, counting to three, trying to get my mind off the Slayer  (what the hell is a SLAYER anyway?) and back on my rounds.

Come on, Finn, concentrate. Anything out of the ordinary? No scurrying  critters? Nothing more than chirpy birds?

Nope. Nothing.  For once I found myself wishing I’d find something,  something bad demon that I could just shoot the hell out of, science be  damned.

Now by trade I’m not a particularly violent guy. But I did want to shoot  something. Badly.

Frustration does strange things to a man.

Sighing, I wiped the sweat from my face, and was about to holster my gun  when I heard a loud crack. Immediately, my mind clicked, and I turned, like  a machine, the flashlight on the end bursting like a ray of hard ass  sunshine.

My finger was poised on the trigger and I sighted, finding the target  immediately.

I froze when I saw what it was.

A half naked guy. I was staring at a half naked guy, who was staring at me  like I had grown a second head.

“Hi.” Was all he said, lifting up a hand and waving.

I looked at him in confusion.  I DID have a semi automatic pointing in his  direction, didn’t I? I checked. Yeah. I did. So… How come he was staring at  me like I was skipping rope of something?

I held the gun harder, trying to decide if this guy was gonna vamp out or  charge me or just walk away.

“Riley, right?”

I blinked, and made the light brighter, causing him to blink and hold a hand  up to guard his face against it.

“Who are you?” I breathed, walking forward carefully, holding my gun steady  as I approached.  At five feet away, I stopped, keeping the light on him.

He coughed. “Uh… that’s enough to sear my pupils out, don’t you think?”

Wait, okay, he sounds familiar.   I squinted, looking closer, racking my  memory for some glimpse of him.

“Wait.” I breathed, snapping my fingers as I lowered my gun, the light  illuminating his face slightly.  “I know you… You’re… you were in my class….  Willow’s boyfriend.”

At the mention of her name, he seemed to change, somehow seemed different,  even if I saw no change of expression in his face at all. He  nodded,  extending a hand. “Oz.”

I took it, looking down at the shorter man, nodding. “Hi.”

“Hi.”

I looked back at my gun. “So uh… sorry about the gun, you know, pointing at  you.”

“Totally understandable. I don’t usually get visitors out here.”

My eyes roved around the forest. “You live here?”

“Camp here usually. A couple days out of the month, Just about to pack up  and go to my apartment when I saw you lurking around.”

“You saw me?” I repeated.  At his nod, I shook my head, cursing myself.  Dammit. I was getting weak.  I was distracted, and this half naked guy saw  me before I saw him.

I turned studying him. “Wait a minute.” I pointed at him, barely noticed it  was with the gun until he stepped back slightly. “Sorry.” I said, putting  the gun down again, and using my finger this time. “You took off. Willow’s
been a mess.”

His eyes seemed to darken a bit. “You and Willow friends?”

“Well, I’m dating Buffy. She helped me.” My smile had left my face and I was  staring at him through narrowed eyes.  “She’s a sweet and amazing girl.”

“Willow or Buffy.”
 
“Both.” I said quickly.  “But I’m talking about Willow. How could you do  that to her? Do you have any idea how you tore her up? How on the brink of  losing it she is?”

I was seething now, grabbing the short guy and gripping his arm tightly.  “You almost destroyed her-“

“I know.” Was the quiet interjection.

“What!?” I snapped.

Oz gazed at me, this dark, deep,  gaze that seemed to be riddled with pain,  and quietly grabbed my hand, and with a surprising strength shoved me away.

“I said I know.” He repeated calmly.

I stepped away, watching him, suddenly wary. There was something about him  that was not quite human, something…. I couldn’t put my finger on it, but it  made me look at my gun again, staring at him. “How do you know?”

“Because it’s destroyed me twice as much.” He said quickly, and then I saw it. In his eyes. It was wildness.

Something in his eyes…. He looked almost animal.

My gun raised again, I stared at him. “What are you?” I breathed.

He merely cocked his head. “Unless there are silver bullets in there, that’s not going to do much.” He said softly, crossing his arms.

My eyes widened, and I felt my heartbeat increase. Oh, shit. Oh, shit. Oh, shit.

A werewolf?! This guy was a freaking werewolf?

He nodded, as if confirming my thoughts and then turned. “Soda?” He asked, and started to walk away.

I followed him, feeling my thoughts whirl.

A werewolf. A freaking werewolf.

And I was following him.  Why the hell hadn’t I shot and  tagged him yet?

Shouldering my gun, I ran after him, and when he disappeared into the bush I hurried after him.

When I burst into the clearing, there was no sign of him.

Shit. I lost him.

“Dammit,” I swore.

“In here.” I turned, and saw suddenly a van door open from what had appeared to be a dense foliage of trees.

Who was this guy, freaking Robinson Crusoe?

Numbly I walked up to the van, looked inside.

Now, woah.  This guy was set up. There was two bean bags, a shag carpet, a refrigerator, a radio.

Damn, my apartment isn’t better than this.

He was crouching in front of the refrigerator as I hopped up, setting the gun against the open door.

“Sit.” He said, his voice amiable as he studied the contents in the fridge.  “Diet or regular?”

“Uh… diet.” I said, sinking into the bean bag with a kerplop, unzipping my vest to let the air in.

Something about this was just weird. Yet I didn’t let it phase me.

Weirdness abounded in Sunnydale, and weirdness had led me to Buffy.

And I wasn’t complaining about that at all.

He handed me the soda, ice cold, and I smiled my thanks.  He nodded, and with the grace of something that once again reminded me of some sort of animal, he sank down in the other chair, studying me with those wild eyes of
his.

“How long have you been a werewolf.” I asked, leaning forward, seeing the traces of it in his face now that I was looking for it.

“Almost three years.” He spoke, his voice gruff. His body was oddly hairless, considering that werewolves were.. you know.. supposed to be hairy.  “But that’s not why I went to meet you.”

I nodded. Somehow I got that this guy wasn’t exactly the chatting type.

Then again, neither was I, as my delightful cheese exposition when I was first trying to ask Buffy out was any indication.

“Right, okay. So why did you?”

He gazed at me, looking into my eyes with this weird look, like he was trying to find something in me.

I shifted in my seat, feeling oddly like I was under some sort of exam.

I think I must have passed because he leaned forward, his voice was thick.

“You can talk to Willow.” He said, “You can see  her, you can smell her.” He looked away swallowing.  “Her voice and her smile.  Up close.”

I felt the pain, could almost hear the whine in the back of his throat, saw the wild look in his eyes and wondered how on earth I could have missed the wolfish quality in him.

Even now I could see the wounded look, the look that I saw in  a dog’s face when he was hurt, when he had been kicked, or was in such deep intense pain you just knew it.

There was nothing worse than looking into a dog’s eyes and seeing that.

I know.  I had a dog, Martha. Had been my best friend for years. One day she disappeared, didn’t know where she had been at all. I was going crazy, made my parents try and find her, wouldn’t come home that night, looking all over for her.

We found her the next day.

On our doorstep.  There was a huge gaping wound in her side, like something had tore at her, eaten at her from the inside.

And she was still alive.

Her head didn’t move, but the eyes moved a little, something about the eyes…. They broke me.

Because I knew then she was coming home to die.

I was ten.  I’ve never forgotten that. And looking into Oz’s wild eyes, I saw the same thing.

Dark, deep, painful love.

“You love her.”

“I more than love her.  She’s my whole life. Which is why I’m here.” He said, indicating to the van and his surroundings.  “Every couple days I come down here, looking for her, just to see her, for one moment. Just a
glimpse.” He swallowed, looking away as he settled in the bean bag across from me.  “But it’s not enough for me anymore. Not enough.  I needed to see someone, to talk to someone that had been near her, cause if not….”

“If not what?” I repeated.

“I would go to her. And I can’t do that. Not now. I’m not ready.” He said simply.

“So you know all about me then?” I asked, my expression purposely blank.

He shrugged, picking at some lint on his pants as he reached for a shirt and slid it on.  “I know enough.  I know you  like Buffy, and I know that she knows about you, and you know about her.”

“I more than like her.” I said quickly.  “She’s-“

“Special. Yeah. I know.”   He interrupted calmly.  “Something about her just reaches inside you and grabs you, and you don’t know what it is, but you know it’s there, and you know that there’s no going back, you’re hooked. “

A small half smile was on his lips, an odd sparkle in his eyes.  “Scary, huh?”

I nodded, breathless. Who WAS this guy?

“Everyone thinks you’re gone.” I said after a minute.

“That’s the idea.” He said.  “I want them to think I’m gone. I did leave you know. For a while.”

“But you came back.”

“I came back.” He returned, nodding. “It hurt too much. Not to see her.  So I decided it would be easier to just …. Pretend.  I hide here. Watch her, make sure she’s okay.”

There it was again, the wound in that guy’s eyes.  I felt awkward, not wanting to intrude on his soul searching, but knowing, for Willow’s sake that something needed to be said.

“Listen… man.” I began awkwardly. “We barely know each other.  But… man you need to go back to Willow. She loves you, she’s lost without you, you know that.”

He didn’t look at me, the only indication that he had heard me was the twitching of one finger. Boy this guy gave new meaning to the word placid.

“It’s not that simple.” He said quietly. “I used to think it was, but it’s not. I love Willow, and it hurts not to be with her.” He looked away, looking at some far offseen point that only he could recognize. “But I know that if I go to her, if I stay with her, I’ll just end up hurting her.”

There was silence, the truth of his sentence made me bite my lips as my mind suddenly filled with flashes.

Buffy’s face when she drifted into a smile. Buffy’s face as she snapped back at the teachers. Buffy’s face as she kissed me. Buffy’s face as she held a crossbow to my throat. Buffy’s face as she recognized me.

Buffy’s face as she realized I wasn’t what she thought I was.

Buffy’s face when I realized she wasn’t who I thought she was.

Oh, God. What if Oz was making sense. What if in the end. All I’d do was hurt her? Was this worth fighting for, would we end up broken hearted, would I do what that other guy did to her.

Would I hurt her?

Was I such a bastard that I didn’t care about that?

The answer to that one was immediate. Yes.  All I cared about was her, wanting to be with her, wanting to make this…. Thing…whatever it was… work.

I was solemn, taking in my whirling thoughts with a swallow, looking up at Oz, seeing the guy knew exactly what I was thinking, and he knew. He had been there.

“It used to be so much easier, wasn’t it?” I asked him, leaning back, staring at the cooled soda, watching the drops of condensation drip off the metal and onto my hand. A half smile floated on my lips. “You know, when if
you liked a girl you’d chase you around with a lizard and hit her and pull her hair and make her scream and cry and hit you and knee you in the-“ I trailed off when I realized Oz was just staring at me blankly.  “You… you never did that?”

He shook his head slightly. “No.” He said lazily. “I didn’t talk to girls back then.”

“Why not?”

“They scared me.” There was no room for expansion in that incredibly simple explanation, and I just nodded. “Okay. I could see how that could happen.”

There was silence, manly silence. We both felt it, comradely ship. If there was alcohol, we’d be guzzling and crying like baby man, commiserating and singing Celine Dion.

Oh thank god there was no alcohol.

“You really like her, don’t you.” I looked up to see Oz, smiling at me, if that could be called a smile. Looked more like a knowing smirk to me.

I felt myself smile back, a sheepish smile. “Yeah. Yeah I do. But there are … things.”

“You mean, cause of her being a Slayer.” He said, nodding.

I looked a little startled, I guess cause he chuckled.   I nodded back.  “Yeah. I get the feeling she’s not to thrilled about what I do, either.”

He was quiet for a moment. “Give it time.” He advised.  “I have a feeling you’re good for her.”

“There was another guy, wasn’t there?” My voice was low, I didn’t look at
him, suddenly finding my soda fascinating, even though I hadn’t taken more
than one sip out of  it.

“Yes.” Was the honest answer. “More than a guy.”

I closed my eyes breathing in and out.  Dammit. I knew it. There had been something in her eyes, this… old wise look that was way too out of place for her years.

“I don’t mean Parker.”

“I know.”

I nodded, felt my hand clasping the soda and felt it shake, felt the metal crunch under my hand and the soda spill over onto my hand.

Oz leaned forward, taking it from me and handing me a napkin.

“Thanks.” I whispered, slightly embarrassed for my lack of control.

No one had affected me this way, the way Buffy had been able to get into my thoughts was scary. Totally scary.

I had never lost control over anything, and just the thought of the guy that had hurt her, of the guy that she had loved enough, so much that he had be ABLE to hurt her like that-

Well it wasn’t good.

“I want to be with her.” I said hoarsely.  “I want to make it work.”

He looked at me, his eyes soulful and hurting, so full of pain it hurt to look at them. “I know. I want to be with Willow.”

I swallowed, sensing what he mean, knowing he meant it with all his heart, and feeling the heartbreak because he believed it couldn’t happen.

Well damn that.

“Give me your hand.” I said quickly, reaching out and grabbing it.

His look clearly told me he thought I had lost my mind but I just swallowed. “Pact.” I said seriously, my hand clasped in Oz’s.  “We get our girls, we find a way to make it work.” Oz gave me one soulful gaze, his eyes dark and poetic, and then nodded.

“Pact.” He responded.

“Good.” I said, releasing his hand. “I’m holding you to that.”

He nodded, not saying a word, though if it was cause he didn’t’ want to or maybe he couldn’t.

Static filled the air and I looked down in surprise at my radio which had come to life.  “RILEY! Where the hell are you! Over.”

“Uh… looking for me.” I explained. “I should go.”

Oz nodded. “Nice having a guest.”

“Anytime.” I returned, picking up my gun and hopping out of the van.  I turned back to look at the wild animal of a man who at that moment looked perfectly contained.

“Pact.” I said again.

He nodded, smiling slightly.  “Pact.”

The door closed and suddenly it was just as hidden as before. I looked for the way I had come in but found nothing.

Closing my eyes I breathed, and picked up the gun, holstering it and going to the designated meeting spot.

I had read Romeo and Juliet, once.   I had always thought it was unrealistic.  I never could understand how the hell someone could be in that much pain, knowing that that girl had caused it all and still wanted it, still couldn’t stay away from her.

Even if they knew they couldn’t be together.

Even if he knew that he could hurt her if he did.

I knew what that felt like now.

I had never thought I’d meet  a guy who thought like Romeo did.

But I had. There was Oz.

And me. Well, maybe I wasn’t at Romeo yet.  But I was getting there.

Because I was going to lie to the Initiative, something I had sworn I would never do. I was going to lie to them about Oz and probably about Buffy.

I was a sorry, sorry ass soldier.

But I was a man who was very, very much in the like of a particular woman.

I knew now, why we did it. These woman, what they did to us. They made us
hurt.

But man, it hurt so good.

FIN