*****

Lindsey shrugged, trying to keep the pain out of his voice as he spoke. "Well, I guess there's harder things to loose."

"Not to us." Oz disagreed and Lindsey bowed his head as his eyes watered. No, perhaps there wasn't a worse fate to someone like them.///

*****

There was a soft knock on the door and Lindsey MacDonald let the trousers he was folding fall to rest over the couch. As he walked towards the door worry lines appeared on his handsome face. He wasn't expecting company, certainly not at this hour, and when he usually did get visitors it wasn't a matter of a social call. He rapidly reached behind his back making sure his gun where were it was supposed to be before he reached to unbolt and unlock the door. He took a moment to close his eyes and deal with the uneasiness that filled him before he swung the door open, making sure he didn't step over the threshold in case it was a vampire situation. He wasn't particularly fond of Angel's little house calls.

The ability to speak was knocked out of Lindsey at the surprise of seeing his long time ago friend, Daniel Osborne, standing on the other side of the door.

"Hey." Oz greeted him.

Lindsey blinked; stepping aside as the redhead pushed passed him. He finally got to his senses and laid a hand on the redhead's shoulder, stopping his intrusion into his home. "Is there something you want?

Oz turned around, looking him up and down, his gaze stopping at the artificial limb a few second longer than Lindsey felt comfortable with. "I heard about your hand."

Lindsey shrugged, trying to keep the pain out of his voice as he spoke. "Well, I guess there's harder things to loose."

"Not to us." Oz disagreed and Lindsey bowed his head as his eyes suddenly watered. No, perhaps there wasn't a worse fate to someone like them.

"Does it hurt?" Oz asked him, simple and direct. "The loss?"

"Of course it does!" Lindsey snapped and his eyes turned dark and hard.

"I'm sorry, man." Oz said, genuinely, stroking Lindsey's arm.

The lawyer backed away, glaring down at the shorter man. "I didn't ask for your sympathy! We had one thing in common and that's a thing of the past so tell me exactly why I shouldn't throw you out?"

"I was hoping we could talk." Oz shrugged.

"What could you possibly say to make it better, Daniel?" Lindsey cried out in anger. "You know what? You were never even half as good as I was so don't even dare telling me you know how I feel. Compared to me you're nothing."

Oz's eyes turned dark as coal. He accepted a lot of crap from his friends but his music and his love for the guitar was sacred grounds. Criticism he could handle but disrespect he could not. There was a subtle difference but an important one to Oz.

"Be quiet." He hissed, feeling the wolf howl inside the cage that was his body. "I don't want to hurt you."

Lindsey's eyes grew big and the laughter that cut through the thick air of hostility was bitter and cold. "You think you could hurt me? Oh, I'm so going to kick your ass, you little shit!"

Oz remained where he was as the larger man charged. The sharp blow to his chin threw his head back and the taste of blood almost made him loose control. There was a yellow, feral shine in his eyes when he kicked Lindsey across the room. His eyes glittered like stars in the night sky when he heard the hard thump of a body crashing to the floor and he casually walked up to the fallen lawyer.

Lindsey was lying on his back, groaning as his hand gingerly touched the tender place on his stomach where a boot-shaped bruise was forming.

Oz bestrode the larger man, his hands closing around the lawyer's wrists, one of flesh and blood, the other a plastic substitute, and a growl of warning from the wolf escaped his pale lips. Lindsey glared up at his childhood friend, pale, gray eyes showing his rage.

As young boys they had often wrestled, the stronger ending on top, and through the years as they grew into young men the winner had almost always been the same. Lindsey had learned to fight dirty and brutally at an early age since he and his siblings had fought like dogs over the scraps their mother and father sometimes brought home. He had used to take pleasure in holding the smaller, redheaded boy down on the ground until Oz cried out for mercy but now the tables were turned. Lindsey could hardly budge under the weight of Oz. Although he knew that it was the wolf in Oz that gave him supernatural strength it angered him to be kept down like this, forced to stay submissive, after all the years he had worked hard to remain on top.

It seemed like physically stronger men like Angel and now Oz got their rocks off by forcing him down on his knees. Lindsey was getting tired of the never-ending challenges for control. Why couldn't they just leave him the hell alone?

Lindsey clenched his fist, struggling to release the vice-like grip Oz had on him. The redhead's short, black-painted fingernails dug into his skin, creating crescent moons and he winced, stopping the struggle. He clenched his teeth hard. If there was something he hated it was being coerced into obedience like a little boy.

"Get off of me." He said and added by his furious gaze it came out like an empty threat. Lindsey pressed his lips together, wondering if Oz would take pleasure in making him beg. He was relieved when the werewolf slowly eased his grip and slid off him quietly to stand up and reach out a helping hand towards him. Lindsey accepted it, equally silent, and didn't refuse when he was being led towards the bedroom.

* * * *

Oz opened the closet, reaching for the hidden guitar. His hands lovingly stroked the cool surface of the fine wood. He rose his gaze, watching the envy on his friend's face. His face remained a cool mask as he walked up to Lindsey who was sitting tiredly on the bed. Oz moved to crawl and slide up behind him, his shorter legs stretching out on the outsides of Lindsey's. Oz put the guitar in his friend's lap and moved closer, his crotch pressing up against the small of Lindsey's back. He looked into the mirror in front of the bed, meeting Lindsey's eyes. There was a hint of a smile on his calm countenance as he could hear Lindsey's heart palpitate. He pressed his face into the hardness of Lindsey's back, breathing in smells that brought him childhood memories.

Lindsey moaned as Oz's strong hands moved to cover his. His hand was closed around the head of the guitar, the strings brushing against his tender fingers. A shiver went through them both as Oz began to twang the guitar.

It might not be beautiful but it was music and they were creating it together. For the first time in a long while they shared their love for the guitar.

The End