Disclaimer: Josh Whedon, Mutant Enemy, and WB own these characters. I do not. I just borrow them from their toy box and play with them for a bit. However I always put them back neatly.
Feedback: Dolly
Dedication: To my pompom girl... how could I refuse you?
Note: This is one of Dolly's 'Indulgent Alt-Reality' stories.
Gift
Willow woke early and watched Oz's still sleeping form. She liked to stare at his eye lashes, barely visible in the half-light. If her head was too busy to sleep it always managed to calm her down. But tonight something was gnawing at her. She had the strangest feeling, like she needed to check something, if she was ever going to settle.
She eased herself from between the covers and padded over to the low table at the end of the bed. The floor was cold but she was growing too preoccupied to notice. See grabbed the blanket, which had, at some point been kicked off the bed and wrapped it loosely around her naked form.
On the table lay an open book, which threw Willow for a second. But she mentally shook herself and started scanning through it anyway. She was looking for something very particular- something she needed to know if she was to get any sleep again that night.
"Hey." said a sleepy voice above her, making her jump. Oz was sat up in bed, rubbing his eyes and running his fingers through the tangles of his hair. "What are you doing?" He looked over at the clock and a slight grimace passed over his face, for the briefest of moments.
"I couldn't sleep." Willow said, trying to sound calm, fighting back the butterflies in her stomach.
"I checked last night." said Oz, a small smile shining from his eyes.
Willow frowned. "Checked what?"
"If our baby will take after his dad." replied Oz, raising an eyebrow.
Willow froze. She opened her mouth a number of times but nothing would come out. Eventually she formed a sentence. "But I did even know."
"Ah, but you're checking books on lycanthropy at 3am." Oz still looked calm, but if it had been brighter Willow would have seen that his eyes were welling.
Willow gathered the book in her arms and, letting the blanket fall back to the floor, moved back towards the bed.
"So I'm pregnant." she said in a quiet stunned voice, as she crawled under the covers and tried to settle in his arms.
"You smell different..." he said, his head close to her ear. Oz paused. "It's a wolf thing." He pushed a few stray locks of hair from her eyes.
"What did the book say?" Willow asked, her brain still trying to process all the information.
He kissed the top of her head. "They say it could go either way."
"Oh." replied Willow.
"But I've thought about it and whatever happens, we'll deal. He or she might only be partly effected. Apparently it is harder to tell when it is the father who is affected." Oz felt goose bumps rise as he said the word father.
He caught Willow's eyes, wanting to reassure her further. "But it does say parental bonds are strong. So if necessary we can be caged together. We won't hurt each other."
Willow visibly relaxed. "You can teach them wolfy ways." she said giggling.
They lay together, savouring the calm moment, which was instantly broken as Willow sat bolt up-right in the bed. "I'm pregnant!" she said, turning to Oz. She felt tingly and happy and wanted to cry and dance, and call everyone. She settled on hugging him tightly. Oz kissed her hair, and smiled, his lip quivering, have finally caught up with his eyes.
"I love you." he said, hugging her back, hard.
"Always." Willow replied, resting her head on his chest.
