Chapter 3
Does This Shade Compliment My Shame?
Enter Buffy with a bag in one hand and a tray of coffee in the other, and my mood lifts greatly.
"Giles?" She said with a warm smile "Shoo." He looked up from his book, took in the scene and promptly does as he was told.
Look, I managed to clean myself up from my emotional flip out, but I still felt puffy to the max. And now the woman I wept to stood before me I felt the shame creeping to my cheeks. Buffy didn't say anything about my moment on the phone, which made me love my friend all the more. Instead she pushed a vente latte into my hand and proceeded to empty out of the bag on the table. I look at the offered clothing nervously.
"Just grabbed you a tracksuit and shirt." She held up a maroon shirt with golden letters arching across the chest. "Sunnydale High. Be careful with that, it' a collectors item- they don't make them anymore after somebody-who-shall-remain-anonymous blew the place up."
"The little scamp." I say, taking the shirt. It looks to be a good fit. "Her mother should be ashamed, raising such a neer-do-well."
"Or, instead of shame, she could always hand her daughter a large envelope of folding green stuff for which to rescue her dear friend with."
The envelope is pushed into my hands. I flounder like a fish at the contents A crimson puffy fish. That's me.
"This is… uh."
"Gonna barely cover the basics babe." Buffy winks and pats my shoulder. "She said if you need more she could always do with a hand at the gallery."
"Your mother…"
"A loving woman. Also a pain in my butt. But yeah, she loves you Xand. She wants you to be okay."
Then, as I release the first of my tears she steps foward, drawing me into a hug.
"Okay, so I swear I don't cry all the time, I…"
"Oh you have no idea of the power of hormones when they come into contact with commercials with adorable puppies yet. Come on, get it all out, we have serious shopping to do."
As I rifle through the clothing rack at the mall I have to wonder if laser eyes is a Slayer power after all.
"Buffy, can you stop? I can feel your eyes burning into the back of my head."
"My bad." She smirks, and slurps on her iced mocha innocently.
"I noticed you haven't stopped." I say. "And when did you become such a coffee sponge?"
"Oh come on, Xander, I can't, you are like totally adorable as a girl." She says, a little swing of her hips. "Come on. Let me?."
"Seriously, that's like your third cup of joe this morning."
"Study and late night patrols. No coffee makes for a grumpy Slayer. Come on Xander, pleeeaaaase. It will be fun."
"For the last time Buffy. I am not letting you dress me." I groan. "Allow me a shred or dignity here."
Buffy goes dead silent and I look over to her to guage her mood.
"See, that there." She says. "That's your problem."
"I don't have a problem. Besides the obvious."
"How is letting me pick out some nice clothes that make you look good and feel comfortable something undignified?"
"Because!" I growl "everything we look at is... is far too…"
"Too what?"
"Too… girly." Buffy's brows shoot up at this. Usually that would be the signal for me to protect my balls, but… well.
"And girly equates to undignified?" She says, slowly. See, still feeling the urge to cover my groin, but I settle with folding my arms and huffing at the floor. "I'm girly. I wear girly stuff. Should I be ashamed? Is that what you are saying?"
I feign looking at another rack as a way to back off and shield myself with dignity. But her words sink in a little as I fume. Do I think it's shameful to be a girl? Well, no. The strongest, most bravest person in my world is a girl. The girls in my life? Willow, Joyce, hell, even Cordelia I have to admit, are all strong and incredible in their own way. How could I think it shameful to be a woman?
And yet. There it is, sitting in my chest like a rock. I think of mocking male eyes, and bruises and fists, and a mouth full of toilet water as they jammed me in. A constant, and I mean constant barrage of emasculation had been raining down on me my entire life. I paused thumbing through the racks and took in a deep, long breath, and found myself letting fly a dark, bitter laugh.
It all seemed to pointless a fear. I knew true emasculation. What can mere words take away? Pointless and stupid and empty.
I was weaker now, sure, physically at least. Smaller in height. But was I really any different? I looked back down at the rack before me, and then back to my friend. The hero. The legend that stood before me (in a stylish yet affordable top and kitten heels).
"Buffy, I need your help." I say. I look around at the shop. "Can you please dress me, but… not for laughs, and not too feminine, it's not me, in here… I am not ready yet… it's gonna take a while to make the shift. Can you find me, I dunno, like a style that's somewhere in between?"
Buffy seems to understand, and she gives a little nod and a sweet, guileless smile.
"Okay, but one rule." She says. "The Hawaiian shirts are out. 'Kay?"
I sigh and nod, and with a deep breath, I take the offered hand.
The girl in the mirror wears a loose black top with blue flannel button down. Her jeans are black and it shows off her long, slender legs. The black boots upon her poor blistered feet have air insoles that are heaven after months on the road. She wears no makeup on her pale, nervous face, nor jewellery to accent her look. Her hair is freshly trimmed to just below her jaw, a soft dark wave that is shaved at the back.
Buffy stands behind the girl, and tugs the button down into place.
"Waddya think?" She says. Her hazel eyes meet mine in the mirror. Not a scrap of judgement on her face.
"I like her." I say.
"Yeah. Me too." Buffy says. "When she isn't being a dick."
"I dunno, look at that smirk. That' a face for sarcasm. Those lips are for quips. Gotta admit, the girl's a natural."
Buffy doesn't react, and I realise she is zoned out, staring at herself in the mirror.
"Buff?" I say and nudge her with the girl's shoulder.
"Sorry." she says. "Lot on my mind."
"Wanna get it off your chest? I know I have something I wanna get off mine. If you catch my drift."
She smiles, a touch sadly, and returns to perfecting the way the shirt sits on my bony assed shoulders.
"Not yet." she says. An uncertain shake of her head. A pat lands on my butt. "Come on Xan, we still have some of my former inheritance to spend."
