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“Dear, dear! How queer everything is to-day! And yesterday things went on just as usual. I wonder if I’ve been changed in the night?

Let me think: was I the same when I got up this morning?

I almost think I can remember feeling a little different.

But if I’m not the same, the next question is, Who in the world am I? Ah, that’s the great puzzle!’”

- Alice’s Adventures in Wonderland

Oz didn’t feel well today.

His skin looked blotchy, probably the result of some sort of cancer. His whole face felt puffy, which could indicate either an allergy to radio waves, or perhaps encephalitis. He had a sore throat. The big toe on his right foot felt like it was going numb. And his vision felt foggy.

But above and beyond all of that, he felt bad because of the Natalie situation.

Oz was standing at the elevator in his building, waiting for Natalie to appear from his apartment.

He’d messed up the day before yesterday. He’d seriously, seriously messed up.

Oz was generally used to ending up with nothing, but that didn’t mean he liked hurting Natalie.

He had never intended her to…

He let out a long sigh.

The problem was his own mind, and he knew it. No matter if he was thinking about her or not when he became preoccupied with washing his hands, it wasn’t something he should have been thinking about while kissing her.

That was completely unacceptable.

He should have been focused on kissing the literal woman of his dreams . But instead, thanks to his own innumerable mental problems, she was now insulted and angry. And rightly so .

Oz had no idea how to go about fixing that, because the root cause of the problem remained the same. He was still morbidly aware of how many horrible microscopic monsters were clinging to every surface of the world.

There was no turning that off.

And as long as he was aware of it, it was very difficult to subject Natalie to it.

If she could see the germs and bacteria which clung to his hands, she’d be as disgusted by him as he was. There was no way she would ever let him touch her. But that didn’t exactly help his case any.

To be honest, he preferred her being angry with him, to her being repulsed by him.

He leaned against the wall, which he cleaned three times a day with bleach, recognizing that for the first time, his life was going to be destroyed by his own inability to do what needed to be done. He needed to stop with his obsessions and rituals. It was the only possible solution.

But recognizing the solution was a far cry from completing it.

And Oz wasn’t sure he was strong enough for that.

He’d tried before, but… It always ended in total failure, and then the rituals and obsessions ended up getting worse as a result.

He had them semi-under control at the moment.

Trying to change that, in any way, was very dangerous.

It could lead to him being unable to leave his apartment at all. Again. Or something even worse.

Oz’s mind scared him. He wasn’t sure what kinds of things it was capable of doing to his life if he pissed it off.

It was, after all, evil.

A moment later, the door to his apartment opened and Natalie exited.

Oz’s mouth hung open in shock, and suddenly his own obsessions and self-diagnosed ailments were the furthest things from his mind.

“I am not Multifarious. Today I am,” Natalie paused dramatically, “ Jungle Lass .”

Oz was really too taken aback by her attire to respond to that in any way other than an awkward nod.

Her costume today consisted of a bikini made of scraps of leopard skin.

Attached to her waist was a flint dagger, and she wore a necklace and anklet of Dentalium shell and crocodile teeth.

She didn’t bother wearing shoes. Just where she’d gotten her outfit and the accessories was anyone’s guess.

Oz had long since stopped asking how Natalie was able to do the things she did.

She was absolutely amazing, so it only made sense that she’d be able to put together a cohesive and detailed costume every day, no matter how many supplies she had access to.

Either way, the costume showed FAR more skin than any he’d ever seen her wear before, and he was having a difficult time concentrating. She was basically wearing a bra and loincloth, for God’s sake. The Kilroy emblem was drawn in red pigment along the curve of her breasts.

He fought a losing battle to keep from staring at the design and the soft skin it was displayed on.

All in all, Poacher had been right: the woman’s breasts were spectacular. Not that he couldn’t also detest the man for noticing them and commenting on it, just that Oz was completely unable to disagree with him.

He wasn’t a man given to sexual fantasy, but they were the stuff of every dream he’d ever had.

Oz wasn’t entirely sure how the woman’s powers worked, but he couldn’t help think this was all an effort to torture him by showing him the glorious body his own weakness had robbed him of.

It was a torture he richly, richly deserved… and was rather enjoying. It made him harder than he could ever remember being in his life, and he knew there was absolutely nothing he could do to alleviate that, but he was still enjoying her costume immensely .

“So… what can you do today, Nat?” He finally mumbled, once he’d regained the power of speech.

“I have enhanced agility and strength today, and I can talk to animals in their secret language.” She pressed the elevator button and stepped inside when the doors opened. “And wrestle alligators.”

“If you can talk to them, why are you wrestling them?”

She pursed her lips. “Good question.” She exited the elevator when it reached the ground floor. “I’ll have to ask them.”

Oz’s gaze slid down her body to settle on her rear, which was barely covered by the animal skins she was wearing.

The fabric swayed back and forth with each movement of her hips, and Oz found it captivating.

Her flesh looked firm and soft and challenged everything he knew in his orderly mind.

It made him have dark impulses, things he’d never thought before about anyone.

He wanted to feel that woman’s ass against him, while she made that soft breathy sound again, his body inside her…

He cleared his throat, trying to regain his composure, and then realized how absurd her costume was. “You realize it’s 38 degrees today, right? ”

“Cheetah fur is very warm.” She told him simply. “It’s no red velvet Santa dress, but still warm.”

“Uh-huh.” He seriously doubted that, but didn’t really care.

If she said she was comfortable, he certainly wasn’t going to tell her what she could and couldn’t wear.

It was her body. Oz’s only concern was her health and whether or not he’d actually be able to concentrate on anything except staring longingly at her amazing curves today.

He seriously doubted that too. He’d only been in her presence for five minutes so far, and it was already physically painful.

It was kinda fun, actually.

Normally, the things which tortured Oz were horrible and disgusting. It was an odd novelty to be tortured by something he actually wanted.

Oz had never really… well… gotten to ogle someone before.

Granted, it was still inappropriate, given the fact that Natalie was undoubtedly still mad at him, and the fact that they were in a very serious life and death situation, and the obvious fact that she was a co-worker, but Oz had simply stopped caring about that.

He was going to thoroughly enjoy looking at Natalie’s body. Because a few days ago, he’d almost lost the ability to ever see her again. And because he wanted to look at her. He almost never got to do what he wanted to do.

Thus, Oz fully intended to admire the woman’s curves until his eyes bled. Or she asked him to stop. And since neither of those things had happened yet, he was going to drink her in, every single time he thought he could get away with it.

That woman was… Well, it was like Oz had lived his entire life in darkness, and Natalie Quentin was the sun. He just wanted to bask in her.

She was strong and smart and opinionated… She was beautiful in a way that made him change the way he looked at the world. She did things he would never do and dealt with situations in ways that he would never even consider…

But… but Oz’s entire life was trash. And she was an absolute treasure. He would happily spend the day just looking at her, even if he knew he could never touch.

“So, what’s on the schedule today?” She asked conversationally.

Oz would have preferred to keep her safe in his apartment, with several brick walls between her and everyone who could possibly try to hurt her. But Natalie had informed him that his apartment was the most boring place she’d ever been.

Which, to be fair, was probably true.

She was exciting and dynamic and fun.

Oz was boring.

Even he knew it.

It was one more reason why he recognized he didn’t deserve her. And never would.

In either case though, she had demanded to come with him when Oz got a call asking for assistance this morning.

That didn’t mean that Oz had to like it though. In his mind, all of this was a needless risk. He knew better than this. But he also knew that no one won an argument with Natalie. His partner was obstinate and absolutely unstoppable once she got going.

“There might be a lead.” He ushered her down the street, trying not to get angry at the men who also took conspicuous notice of her attire. That would be ridiculous and petty and possessive, none of which Oz was.

Still, whatever the men saw in his eyes when he glared at them, they quickly fled the scene.

Oz should have felt bad about that. It wasn’t in the least bit heroic. He recognized that. But he didn’t feel bad. At all.

Those men should have known better . Especially since Oz was obsessive enough about the neighborhood to know where each and every one of the men lived.