Author:
Saber ShadowKitten
Disclaimer: I own nothing. All
belongs to Joss and UPN.
Spike took a swig from his beer as he
glanced around the Bronze. The club was relatively packed that evening and the
music pounding from the stereo system was good enough to have a majority of the
patrons out on the dance floor. Normally, he would be enjoying the sight of all
the young flesh writhing out on the floor, listening to their blood racing in
their veins, the scents of sweat and arousal filling the air, drawing him and
every other vampire in the vicinity into the hunt.
Tonight,
however, it was only depressing him. It was reminding him that, no matter how
much he wanted to be part of the hunt, he couldn't participate.
Soddin'
chip, he thought, taking another long swig of his beer. As soon as he could get
it removed, each and every mortal in the Bronze was going to be shagged or
eaten or both.
"And
bugger whatever the Slayer says," Spike muttered to himself, scratching at
the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. "She'll be munched right along
with the others, especially that bloody soldier schmuck."
Buffy
had told Spike the night before that she was planning on patrolling then going
to see Riley, leaving him alone for the night. Why she insisted on still dating
that nonce was beyond his grasp. Spike wished that Adam -- the bad guy of the
week -- had skewered the boy just a little bit higher. But no, Cornboy was
alive and kicking, and Buffy had appointed herself a Candy Striper.
Spike
was okay with her casual dating of other mortals. It wasn't as if he was in
love with her or anything. If she wanted to find hearts and flowers, more the
reason to keep his gob shut over whom she dates. He was only interested in shagging
her and fighting by her side.
He
pursed his lips as he thought back to a couple of weeks ago when he'd painfully
learned his extracurricular activities weren't earning him any points in the
demon community. In his book, violence was violence. If he was killing
something, he was happy, even if he ended up being on the white hats team. The
other demons didn't have the same views, as he'd found out when the fists
started flying.
That
was another reason he was at the Bronze having a beer. He was no longer welcome
at any of the vampire or demon establishments. He knew he could hold his own
against several opponents, as long as he wasn't sucker-punched again, but it
wasn't worth the hassle. Beer and blood were available other places, and he
could always score points with his fuckmate if he helped protect the yokels.
Spike
started across the club, aiming for the couches set up in a small alcove. He
hadn't seen any of the Slayer's flunkies as of yet, but they usually ended up
at the Bronze. He knew he could count on them for a bit of distraction,
especially the witch. The redhead was so fun to goad.
"Whoop."
Someone
bumped into Spike and, as he went to growl at the person, he was shocked to
find himself facing the Slayer. The scent radiating from her was hot and heavy,
from her own arousal and that of several males -- none of which was the
unmistakable scent of the nonce from Iowa. Had Buffy lied to him?
"Oh,
you," he said, his feelings churning in anger, confusion... and jealousy?
"And
you," Buffy said, almost carelessly.
Spike
went on the offensive, like he always did, to hide the tumultuous emotions
swirling inside of him. "What, are you keeping tabs on me? You're gonna
give me a hard time now?"
Buffy
frowned slightly at him. "Um, do I usually give you a hard time?"
"Very
funny," Spike said wryly. "Well, you don't have to worry about me
drinking," he lifted his bottle of beer and gave her a sardonic smile,
"unless you're here to protect innocent beers."
"You're
a vampire," Buffy said.
Spike
narrowed his eyes at her. What was her game? "Was," he corrected, and
was immediately disgusted by the bitterness in his voice. Anger at his
situation colored his speech as he continued. "And as soon as I get this chip
out of my head, I'll be a vampire again. But until then, I'm just as helpless
as a kitten up a tree. So why don't you sod off?"
Buffy
shrugged. "Ok," she said, then turned to walk away from him.
The
anger Spike was feeling spiked with her attitude. He'd thought she actually had
some compassion for him. "Oh, fine! Throw it in my face! Spike's not a
threat anymore. I'll turn my back. He can't hurt me."
"Spike?"
Buffy turned around and looked at him for a moment, then a smile crossed her
face. "Spike. William the Bloody with a chip in his head. I kind of love
this town."
Spike
glared angrily at her. "You know why I really hate you, Summers?"
"'Cause
I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?"
Spike
blinked in surprise in how she answered, knocking him out of the black tornado
of anger he'd been feeling. "Well, yeah, that covers a lot of it."
Buffy
started walking towards him, her hips swaying back and forth in a way
guaranteed to make him look. "Cause I could do anything I want, and instead,
I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of slayerness?" she
continued. "I mean, I could be rich, I could be famous, I could have
anything. Anyone."
She
put her hand on his chest, her fingers caressing him through the black tee.
"Even you, Spike," she said, her voice dipping down to a wicked
level, causing his eyes to focus on her lips. "I could ride you at a
gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've
never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm
champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more."
Spike
couldn't believe she was talking so explicitly dirty to him. He couldn't take
his eyes off her her mouth. He cock swelled so much he could hear his zipper
breaking from the pressure. He wanted to push her hard against the metal column
and fuck her right there, sod the others in the Bronze.
"And
you know why I don't?" Buffy asked him. She licked her lips, raised up
slightly on her toes and looked at him straight in the eyes. "Because it's
wrong."
Spike
was slammed out of his arousal with brute force and it wasn't from her words.
He stared after her as she walked away from him with something akin to horror.
That
hadn't been his Slayer looking at him through her hazel eyes. That had been
someone else.
The
blond vampire practically flew all the way to Giles's house, he was running so
fast. He burst into the ex-Watcher's home without knocking. "Giles! We
have a bloody huge problem!"
Giles
turned to Spike, exposing a dark-haired girl he'd been speaking with. Her
large, brown eyes met Spike's and, for the second time in less than twenty
minutes, the vampire was shocked. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and
crossed to the girl in four rapid steps.
Spike
pulled her into an abrupt, fierce hug, then released her only enough to look
down at the unfamiliar face. "Soddin' hell, Slayer, what's going on?
There's some chit at the Bronze wearing your skin and you're wearing someone
else's!"
"You
know it's me?" Buffy said in a trembling, amazed voice.
"You
know that's Buffy?" Giles asked at the same time.
Spike
released the taller girl completely and turned so he could speak with both of
them. "Yes, I know it's Buffy. What I don't know is why the bloody hell
she's suddenly taller, more built and a non-dyed brunette."
Buffy
stared at Spike, stunned at the fact that he knew immediately it was her. Giles
couldn't tell without playing Twenty Questions, even though she'd been able to
tell who he was by looking into his eyes when Ethan had turned him into a
demon. She had thought her mentor would have been able to do the same with her,
but he hadn't -- Spike had.
"It-it
seems that Faith switched bodies with Buffy," Giles explained to Spike.
"And
why would she do that?" Spike asked.
"Revenge,"
Buffy replied, snapping out of her amazement. She'd think about the odd
feelings bubbling inside of her because of Spike later, after she dealt with
her body-swapping problem.
Spike
looked at the brunette and frowned. "For what? That body you're in smells
human."
"Faith
is human," Giles said. "Psychotic, but human."
"Do
you remember hearing anything about a Slayer batting for the other team,
Spike?" Buffy asked the vampire. "It was around this time last year?
She played daughter to Mayor Wilkins the Ascension-happy moron who got his ass
kicked by moi?"
Spike
nodded. "I heard about that, but I also heard she was in a coma or
something."
"She
was. I put her in one," Buffy said. "But she's awake now."
"You
put her in one?" Spike arched his brow at her. "Another human?"
"There
are exceptions for evil Slayers who poison your lover," Buffy said
bluntly.
"You
mean, the poof..." Spike trailed off at her unblinking stare. Brown eyes or
hazel, there was no way the girl in front of him was anyone but his Buffy.
"Right."
"Well,
I guess we'd best start," Giles said, breaking into the heavy silence that
descended. "From what you've told me, er, B-Buffy, Faith used some sort of
device to trigger the soul transference?"
"Yeah,"
Buffy replied. "She put it on her hand, then grabbed mine. No flashy
lights or anything, just poof -- I'm looking at myself."
Giles
nodded and moved to his bookshelf. "We'll start with the 'non-flashy
lights' researching first, then move on from there."
"Now
I know I'm in trouble," Buffy said to Spike. "Giles made a
joke."
Spike
gave her a half-smile. "Someone warn the masses."
She
laughed and Spike relaxed. If Buffy could laugh and make witty commentary, she
would be fine. That's one of the things he found fascinating about her -- her
unflagging spirit in the face of some bloody weird shit.
Two
hours later, the blond vampire sighed and hung up the phone. "She's still
not there, Giles," he told the ex-Watcher.
"Well,
we'll just have to continue to make do," Giles said, not looking up from
the book he was paging through. "Willow will return eventually."
Spike
had always thought that the little witch and friends had some sort of evil
radar that went off when things went to pot. They seemed to gather with
unerring accuracy without being summoned from what he'd seen.
The
blond vampire glanced down the hallway, a frown appearing between his brows.
Buffy had been a long time in the WC, he thought.
Spike's
feet were carrying him down the hall and around the corner before he was even
aware of moving. The bathroom door was shut and he raised his hand to knock.
He
was halted by the muffled sounds of crying.
Spike's
frown deepened and he knocked softly. "Slayer, you okay?"
"I'm
fine," came the quick answer through the door.
"Liar,"
Spike said to himself before he turned the doorknob.
"Spike,
what are you doing?!" Buffy exclaimed, scrubbing her wet cheeks with her
hands as the blond vampire entered the bathroom.
"I
came to reminisce about my fun-loving times chained in the tub," he
replied wryly, shutting the door behind him.
"Well,
go away," she told him.
Spike
shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you're hiding in the closet,
crying, instead of helping to get you back into your regular trappings."
"But
what if we can't find a way?" Buffy said, turning to look at herself in
the mirror again. Faith's face looked back at her. "What if I'm stuck in
Faith's body forever?"
"She's
still a Slayer, right?" Spike said. Buffy nodded. "Then you keep on
doing what you always do -- fight evil and shag me rotten."
Buffy's
horrified gaze shot to his. "You want to have sex with me when I look like
this?"
Spike
raked his eyes over Faith's more lush curves, a purely male smile curling his
lips. "You look pretty fuckable in that body, pet."
"You...
you... you jerk!"
Spike
raised his head and found himself looking at a furious Slayer.
"What?" he asked in confusion.
"'What'?!
'What'?!" Buffy said incredulously. "It's bad enough that
I'm screwing a vampire on a regular basis, but at least it's monogamous sex. I
should have known that you'd stick it in anyone you can."
"What
the hell are you blabberin' about, Slayer?" Spike said in total
puzzlement.
"You
want to have sex with me!" Buffy hissed.
"Er,
yeah," Spike agreed warily. "That was the general plan."
"You....
you... pig-dog! I can't believe you want to screw Faith!" Buffy exclaimed.
"She's skanky and... and slutty! And she probably has a million
diseases-"
Spike
stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, dropping his head
slightly to look straight into her eyes. "Slayer, what does Faith have to
do with anything?"
"Duh,"
Buffy said. "Who do I look like?"
Realization
as to what Buffy was going on about hit Spike. He shook his head, a smile
tugging up his lips. "Pet, I don't want to shag Faith, I want to shag you."
"Not
seeing much difference right now," Buffy grumbled.
"Oh,
there's a huge difference, luv," Spike told her. He began to slowly slide
a hand down her arm. "It doesn't matter if you're tall or short, plump or
bird-like, more busty...," he cupped her breast, "...or have a perfect
handful, if you're a brunette...," he gave her a wicked smile, "...or
a brunette."
"Spike."
Buffy blushed.
"Slayer,
it's you I've been lusting after twenty-four-seven, ever since
Willow's cocked up spell, not your looks," Spike said in a low, silky
voice. "It's your goodness and sarcastic wit and passion and youthfulness
and inner strength that I crave to touch."
He
leaned closer to her, caressing her breast through the material of her shirt.
"Let me touch you, sweetheart."
"Yes,"
Buffy breathed.
Spike
captured her mouth immediately, drawing her into a deep kiss. He continued to
fondle her breast, lightly pinching her nipple, eliciting a soft moan from her.
Her hands slid around his waist and she untucked his shirt in the back. When
her warm hands touched his bare skin in a familiar way, he hardened fully
beneath his trousers.
"Ah,
luv," he murmured after he dragged his lips from hers. He pushed her back
against the tiled wall and began to kiss and nibble along her jaw. "Why do
I want you so much?"
"Don't
know, don't care, touch me," Buffy ordered, rubbing her hips forward
against him.
Spike
chuckled. "Bossy chit," he said, nipping at her earlobe.
"Yes,
I am. Now touch me before I stake yo-ooooh," she groaned as he bent and
sucked her pebbled nipple into his mouth through her shirt. "That's
nice."
Spike
raised the hem of her shirt up and deftly unhooked the front clasp of the black
satin bra she wore. Two, full, creamy breasts greeted his vision, each graced
with a dark rose areola the size of a half-dollar and tipped with the hard buds
of her nipples. He leaned forward, dragged his tongue over one and was rewarded
with a throaty moan of his name.
Different
body, same reactions, he thought. He grabbed the stiff peak of her nipple with
his blunt teeth and tugged lightly. Buffy whimpered just like he knew she
would.
As
Spike continued to suckle and tease her breasts, he worked on baring more of
her new body. Buffy felt the cooler air on skin as the pants and panties she
was wearing were pulled down to her knees. She felt herself become wet in
anticipation and excitement, and when his strong fingers slid into her channel,
she shuddered at the exquisite feelings he evoked.
Spike
straightened and captured her mouth again, his fingers still dancing along her
damp cleft, stroking her intimately. Buffy pressed her bare breasts against his
shirt-covered chest, rubbing her sensitive nipples back and forth over the
material. She whimpered in distress when he suddenly pulled completely away
from her.
Buffy
whimpered for an entirely different reason when he turned her around so she was
facing the tiled wall. She heard the rasp of a zipper and the muscles in her
much different body coiled with sexual tension. She felt the top of his shaft
slide down between her buttocks and lower still until he was at her moist
entry. Then, he buried himself inside of her with one, sure thrust, and they
both inhaled sharply at the familiar pleasure that coursed through them.
Spike
put his hands possessively on Buffy's more curvaceous hips and slowly began to
move. He watched with a hungry passion as his turgid member appeared and
vanished beneath her creamy behind, its length glistening in the harsh bathroom
light from her vaginal juices. Her inner walls fluttered then grasped at him,
and his eyelids fell shut because of the erotic sensation.
His
pace increased until he was steadily driving into her, bringing them both
closer and closer to the edge of completion. Buffy gasped with each hit of his pelvis
against her backside and, when his hand slid around her body and his fingers
found the aching knob of flesh between her netherlips, she let out a muffled
cry as an orgasm ripped through her.
Spike's
eyes rolled under his closed lids as Buffy squeezed his cock as she came. Faith
had been wrong -- he knew exactly what muscles a Slayer's body had and what
they could do to him. After a few more hard thrusts, a hoarse curse was torn
from his throat as he dropped headlong into his own climax.
He
held Buffy pressed tight against him for several long minutes as he gathered
himself back together after his orgasm. He could hear Buffy panting softly and
the tangy scent of sex drifted from her body to his nose. He finally slipped
free from her and tucked himself away.
Buffy
turned around, pulling down her shirt at the same time. She opened her mouth to
say something, but Spike cut her off with a deep kiss.
"I'll
let you get cleaned up, luv," Spike said quietly after he broke the kiss.
He lifted his hand a brushed a dark lock of hair away from her unfamiliar face
with the oh-so-familiar look in her eyes. He gave her a half-smile, then left
the bathroom.
Buffy
slumped back against the tiled wall when the door clicked shut behind him, her
pants still around her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her
reflection and turned her head. Faith's flushed face looked out of the mirror
at her, but the brown eyes reflected a sparkle Buffy had never seen when Faith
was in possession of her own body.
The
Slayer wrinkled her nose, stuck out her tongue, then smiled. There were worse
bodies she could have found herself in, Buffy thought. She lifted up her shirt
again and arched both her brows in appreciation at the reflection of her new
breasts in the mirror.
Buffy
caught her own gaze again and laughed loudly when she realized how ridiculous
she was behaving. With a shake of her dark head, she began to get cleaned up.
Spike
grinned to himself when he heard the husky laughter float down the hallway to
the kitchen, where he was drying his hands after having washed them in the
sink. He caught the ex-Watcher's questioning look over the bar-counter in the
kitchen wall and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.
"Don't
look at me, Giles," he said. "She spent the last fifteen minutes
using me as a personal punching bag all because I asked her if I could have a
little snack."
"You
asked her if you could drink her blood?" Giles said with aplomb.
"It's
not like that's her real body," Spike countered. "And Slayer's blood
is the creme-de-la-creme of blood."
"Right.
Well, er, at least she sounds more cheerful," Giles said. "I'd
imagine it must be horrifying for her to be trapped in-in someone else's
body."
"Guys,
check this out," Faith's voice drifted to the two men before the
dark-haired Slayer came into view. "Faith's double-jointed. This is so
cool."
Spike
snorted at Giles's stunned expression as Buffy stopped in front of the
bar-counter and wiggled her thumbs for them. The blond vampire gave her a
secretive smile when she turned her eyes to him.
"I
think he's suitably impressed, ducks," Spike said. "More impressed
than by my asking you to bleed a little for me before you decided I could use a
good arse-kicking."
Buffy
frowned in confusion at him for a second before she caught on. "Hey, this
Slayer doesn't bleed for just any vampire," she told him loftily.
Giles's
front door opened and Willow and Tara came rushing in. "Giles!"
"Will!"
Buffy exclaimed.
"Oh, my god," Willow said, staring at Buffy.
"Willow,
wait. You don't understand-"
"You're
Buffy," Willow interrupted. "You and Faith switched bodies, probably
through a Draconian Katra spell."
"She
understands it better than I do," Giles muttered disheartedly.
"How
did you know?" Buffy asked Willow.
"Tara,"
Willow replied. She gestured to the blond beside her. "Tara, this is
Buffy, only really this time."
"Hi,"
Tara said shyly.
"Tara's
a really powerful witch," Willow said.
"Not
really," Tara said.
"No,
really," Willow said emphatically. "She knew right away that you
weren't you. So we connected with the nether realms to find out what happened.
And we conjured this."
Willow
held out a small ringbox.
"What
is--" Buffy began to say, but was interrupted again.
"It's
a Katra," Willow explained. "Or the home-conjured version. It-it
should switch you back, if you can get a hold of Faith."
"Oh,
thank god," Buffy sighed in relief. Then, she looked over at Spike and a
corner of her mouth turned up before she added, "Even though, no matter
what body I'm stuck in, I'm still me."
Spike
winked at her and, as the phone began to ring and the conversation turned to
planning on how to capture Faith, he leaned casually on the counter and watched
as his Slayer shined through another girl's eyes.
The End