Title: Brazil Nuts

Pairing: Anya/Oz (just go with me on this)

Spoilers: Through S7-Same Time, Same Place (vague)

Rating: PG-13

A/N: Inspired by thoughts of random pairings while I was in the shower this morning. When trying to figure out where to set this I remembered Anya’s Brazil nuts in STSP and thought, hey, why not. Thanks to Savvy for the beta. And a big thanks to my muse, not sure why you’re being so good to me, but I’m enjoying every minute of it.

She was sitting on a bench across the street from a church in Sao Paolo, Brazil, waiting. Suddenly she realized she wasn’t alone.

“Anya?” a familiar voice asked.

She turned toward the voice, recognition dawning she hastily wiped away the tears on her cheeks. “O-Oz? He-hey,” she forced a smile.

“Are you okay?” he asked with concern, noticing the tears.

“What, these? Allergies?” she offered, then grimaced. “I never bought that either. Thought I’d give it a try, though.”

Oz nodded. “You’re the last person I would expect to run into here.”

“No, I’m not,” Anya stated matter-of-factly. “That would be Willow. I’d probably be the fifth or sixth person you’d expect.”

“Mind if I sit?” he asked, trying another tack.

Anya waved absently to the empty spot beside her. “It’s public property. At least I think it is.”

Figuring this was the closest he would get to a “yes” from her, Oz sat down, leaning his guitar between them.

“I guess that creepy ride was right.” Oz looked at her, puzzled. “It is a small world after all. Who knew?”

“Apparently, Walt Disney,” he offered.

Anya smiled faintly. “I knew there was a reason I always liked you.”

After a brief silence, Anya spoke again. “I’m here on business. Vengeance,” she clarified. “Xander left me at the altar, so I became a vengeance demon again. You can run away now if you want.”

“I think I’ll stay,” he said without hesitation. “I haven’t wronged anyone lately, so I think I’m safe.”

“Suit yourself,” she shrugged, then looked at her watch. Cocking her head, she held up a hand to keep him quiet. Just then, a series of shrieks erupted from the church across the street. Soon after, there was a mass exodus from the church. “I should have known.”

Oz gave her a quizzical look.

“The bride found out her soon-to-be husband was screwing the bridesmaids, yes, plural. But she wanted to give him one last chance, saying something about ‘wild oats.’ So, when it came time for the vows and he pledged to be faithful, if he wasn’t lying then nothing would happen. But if he was,” she motioned to the bride coming out of the church carrying a long black snake, “then that would happen.”

“You don’t sound happy about it. I thought you enjoyed vengeance,” Oz commented.

“So did I. I used to find it very fulfilling. Not as great as multiple orgasms, but fulfilling nonetheless.”

“And now it’s not,” Oz said simply.

“No, it isn’t,” Anya sniffed. “It was supposed to make things better, make the pain go away. But it only seems to make me more miserable.”

On impulse, Oz reached out and brushed away Anya’s tears, “I’m sorry, Anya.”

“You’re sorry? I’m sorry. Xander’s sorry. Everyone’s sorry!” she snorted. “Being sorry doesn’t make it any better.”

“No it doesn’t,” he agreed.

“What about you?” Anya sniffed again. “What brings you to the land down under?”

Not bothering to correct her, Oz replied, “Always wanted to see the rain forest. I’ve been everywhere else, so I figured why not give Brazil a chance.”

Anya nodded to the guitar, “You still play, I see?”

“It gets me by,” he answered. “I was actually on my way to a gig when I saw you.”

“Oh,” she said. “You should go then. It was nice to see you.”

“You can come if you want,” he offered. Then added, “I’d like you to come.”

She looked at him, confused.

“It’s good to see a familiar face again.”

“Is there alcohol?”

“Most bars that I’ve been to seem to have some.”

“Okay, then,” she got up. “I like talking to you. I wonder why we never talked more before.”

“Things were different,” he said joining her.

“Things change,” she added.

“They do,” he agreed.

They were sitting outside, sipping their respective beers. Oz had finished his last set hours ago and they were now among a small few who still hung around the bar talking as the night grew old.

“From what Giles says, Willow seems to be getting better, but after messing with Magicks that dark . . .” Anya shrugged.

Oz was silent, digesting all that Anya had told him. He’d missed a lot since he left Sunnydale behind. Things and people had definitely changed.

“There are times I think it would have been better to have kept running when the Mayor was ascending. There wouldn’t have been all the great sex with Xander, but he also wouldn’t have left me,” she sighed. “These stupid human feelings were supposed to have disappeared.”

“I thought they would, too,” he said quietly. Realizing he’d spoken aloud, he explained, “After I left Sunnydale the second time, I went into the wilderness. Away from people, away from everything. And then I gave in to the wolf. For over a year I lived like that. An animal.

“Then one day I realized it wasn’t working. The wolf helped me hide from things, but they were still there. The feelings didn’t go away, I was just ignoring them. I took control again, and rejoined humanity. Decided to see the world,” he finished. “Running never works.”

Anya gulped down the rest of her beer. “You couldn’t have lied to me?” she asked sadly.

“If I thought it would help,” he offered.

“I know,” she agreed. Anya took a deep breath. “I’m going to ask you something and you can say no. Actually, you should say no. But I just need to forget things for awhile and—”

“Yes,” he said.

“You don’t know what I’m going to ask,” she glared at him.

“I have a pretty good idea.” “Oh. Really?” she asked uncertain. “You’ll have sex with me?”

He smiled at her bluntness. “Yes,” he said again.

They were strangers, really. They had known the same people, but that was all. Maybe that’s why they were able to do this. There was enough in common for them to reminisce but to also get lost in each other, to forget.

“Well, you certainly shouldn’t blame yourself,” Anya said, idly tracing patterns on Oz’s chest.

Oz stopped stroking her hair. “For what?”

“For Willow turning gay,” she answered in a tone that said “duh.” “I’ve known a number of women through the centuries that blamed themselves when their men turn out to like other men. As in, maybe they weren’t good enough.”

“I’m taking it that you’re saying this was good then,” Oz prompted.

“Yes,” she confirmed. “Compared to Olaf, I really can’t say, seeing as that was over a millennium ago. I was really too drunk with Spike to notice. But I’d say you gave Xander an excellent run for his money.”

“Thanks, I think,” he said, fighting a smile. Anya was unique, he had to say. Not one to mince words, Oz admired her bluntness, as off-putting as it could be at times.

“Actually, that might be the reason why Willow did turn gay. You were too good.” She chewed her lip, considering. “Does this mean—”

“Anya.”

“Huh?” she looked at him.

“Shut up,” he said, bending down to kiss her.

“It’d be nice if I didn’t have to go back today,” Anya sighed as they walked along the main street the next day. “Stupid insurance auditors, always picking the most inopportune moments.”

Oz just grinned to himself. “I had a good time last night, Anya,” he said finally.

“I did, too,” she smiled. “Who would have guessed?”

“Mind waiting for a minute,” he cocked his head toward a store they were approaching.

“Sure.”

Oz emerged a few minutes later and handed her a bag. “It’s not much,” he said sheepishly, “but I thought you’d like something to remember this by. Maybe cheer you up.”

“Oh?” she looked in the bag. Pulling out a canister, she gave it a shake. “Brazil nuts?”

“Like I said, not much, but—”

He didn’t get a chance to finish before Anya’s arms were around him. “How did you know?” she laughed.

“One of my talents.”

Anya glanced at her watch. “I’ve gotta, you know . . .”

He nodded.

“Thank you again, Oz,” she hugged him again. “I won’t forget this.”

“I won’t either,” he hugged her back. “Good-bye, Anya.”

“Good-bye, Oz. It was . . .” she trailed off with a smile, then disappeared.

“It was,” he said to himself, now alone on the early morning street. He turned and walked back to his hotel. It was time to move on.