Shoe on the Other Foot (SotOF)
By Penmom
As you well know, the usual things apply. This is a short work that has been rolling around in my head for weeks. Place this in mid Season 6. Whether I continue is up in the air. Premise - Xander and Spike switch bodies Feedback! I love it - I can't wait to see what you make of this!
Chapter Three - Here Comes the Sun
By the time Spike is polishing off his waffles, Xander is on his third cup of - well, you know ---. Seeing this, Spike can't help but comment. "You really need to try it with a little burpa weed, puts a nice little kick in it."
Seeing the mortified expression on Spike-shaped Xander's face, Buffy intervenes before the fur begins to fly yet again. "Come on Spike, leave it. This will be over soon enough."
Furiously thinking of a way to break up the party, Buffy says the first thing that pops in her head, "Hey it's almost six, the sun's going to be up soon. Don't you want come see? Take advantage of the whole not-going-poof thing while you can?"
Xander jumps in the conversation to voice his concerns, "Buffy, I mean it - so help me, if you take him out --- I mean, I so don't want a tattoo!" Xander's exclamation ends in a yawn. He didn't know vamps yawned. He suddenly changes the subject, "Why I am so sleepy?"
Spike happily supplies the answer, "Well, duh? Vamp equals sleep all day."
Buffy grabs Xander-shaped Spike's hand and pulls him out of the kitchen. "Hey, why don't you go take a quick shower - you know, the whole human, hygiene thingy - and we'll make a day of it. I have the day off."
Whatever else is running through his mind, the thought of having Buffy to himself all day is appealing enough to win his consent and he is banished to the bathroom. Just as he readies to step in the shower he hears his own voice - albeit a little flat - declaring - "He so better not be bleaching my hair!"
************************ Soon enough Spike is out of the shower. He can't help but check out the package. Actually, it's much better than he would have initially thought. Then again, Anya must see something in the boy --- well, OK - man - he'd give him that. Actually, he finds Harris to be in better shape than he would have thought. While it's a kind of hulky Angel-kind of fit, it would do - for now.
Shaving goes OK enough but the hair - the hair needs some work. Luckily, Anya has a huge stash of hair care products under the sink. Deciding on some mousse that is advertised to have light-reflecting particles for an 'all day shine', he goes to work.
Inspecting his results in the mirror, Spike is a bit bummed to see that again, he is catching a little of the Angel-thing. Resolving that he can do nothing about what he has to work with, he drapes a towel around his waist and ventures out of the bathroom.
Someone has laid a neat stack of clothing in the floor. Looking at the choices, he knows that Buffy is the culprit. Despite her vocal protests she has weeded through Harris' closet and come up with the best she can go such short notice - boxer briefs, faded jeans, scuffed up boots, a navy T- shirt and an old brown leather jacket. No plaid in sight, that's my girl he thinks.
When he's dressed, he makes his way out into the Living Room to find Buffy dozing on the couch. Normally, he would immediately seize on the opportunity to make a play for her but in this giant, economy-size body, he's a little shy - believe it or not. Do you or do you not want your girl to want you - when you are in someone else's body. Especially when the someone else is so very different from you. And if, by some twist of fate, something romantic were to happen - would it be cheating? What if she found that she liked this body better? Ahhh, the whole thing had a slight 'Midsummer Night's Dream' quality to it. If that were the case, what would the ultimate moral be - he wonders ---?
Ahhh well, first things first. He reaches out to shake her shoulder. She jumps a good five inches off the sofa - jumpy little thing.
"Can't say as I blame you." He intones.
"Umm?" answers the sleepy maiden.
Looking sheepishly at his shoes, he continues. "I mean the jumpiness - can't say as I blame you. This whole altered state thing is pretty weird."
In the time he has been speaking, she has had a chance to better survey this Xanderized version of Spike. Since the whole bathroom thing, he looks like a hipper version of Xander - the clothes are tighter - making her wonder why Xander always wears such baggy clothes. That thought connects back to the whole swim team incident from high school. She had the same thought then too - and a few others
The hair is way different - spiked up a bit. But the biggest change is something subtler - something about his facial expression - the smirk on his mouth as he realizes that she is surveying him like a piece of property.
"Like what you see, Luv?"
She gives him a wholly exasperated look. "No, ahh no. It's just you look different."
"Well, I should say so ---"
"No. I mean, you look different than Xander. But you are Xander. I mean you're not but you are. I mean, you just don't look exactly like Xander."
"And what do I look like Pet?" He can't help but fish for compliments even in this other body.
"You look like you but like you're wearing a Xander suit. You still look like you!" She exclaims, actually sounding irritated.
"And that's a good thing?" he asks, pushing the envelope further still.
"No, Yes. I don't know. It just is. With that she jumps up and grabs her book bag more than ready to change the conversation.
He follows her out the door and down the shaded stair well. He stops before the point where the weak morning light has already fallen. She steps out into the sun before noticing his hesitation. She turns and without thought, holds her hand out to him.
Taking her warm little hand, he steps out into the sun. He lifts his eyes up squinting up into the sun. For several long moments he looks up. Buffy is just as mesmerized by his reaction as he is to the sun. Finally, he looks to her - eyes shining with unshed tears. Before she know it, she is swept up into his arms and is swung around and around until they are both laughing and dizzy.
It seems like the most natural thing in the world as his lips crush into hers - warm lips on warm - hearts beating - the happiness of the moment - the preciousness of the moment.
Somehow in the moments since this altered Spike has stepped out into the sun something - this thing between them - has changed. This body is no longer just Xander - it's Spike - albeit changed but it's Spike. When they finally draw apart Buffy's hand is pressed against his beating heart.
There are no words for a few more seconds.
Guess I look like a soddin' fool, huh? Stupid grin on this mug, eh?"
She reaches up to touch his face, the side of the brow where the familiar scar usually is.
"No, you look happy."
"You look happy too" Suddenly he blushes and looks down. Feeling shy. Feeling the autonomic reaction to this emotion for the first time in over one hundred and twenty years - he feels a little more like William than Spike. Sweaty palms, heart pounding, face hot - it feels good - humbles you kind of ---
He notices Buffy is flushed too. He realizes he has taken so much of her - of her communication for grated. These subtle expressions - how much of what he knows of her is based on his vampire assessments of her physical body - sounds, scents. She is so much more - in the silence of this human body - he must rely more on what she chooses to give him. He suddenly realizes that she picks up on this too. That she seems somehow easier with this version of him - that she can pick and choose what he understands of her.
***************
Anya snuggles deep into the covers. It's a common human pleasure but it's come to be one of her favorites - warm bed, dark room, clean sheets. Those moments where you float between sleep and wakefulness.
With a long contented sigh, she turns towards Xander. Expecting his big, warm body to enfold hers. Being cradled in his warmth - the feeling of him accepting her to him in sleep, curling his bigger body protectively about her own. It is a visceral comfort.
There is a body in the familiar spot but the body does not feel right - not warm - not cold just not warm - and it is all angular and still. The body does seem to recognize hers and moves to reach for her, pulling her closer.
This contact wakes her fully and Xander's predicament is quickly recalled. She cranes her neck around toward him. The vision in front of her peaks her interest - the lean jaw, the chiseled cheekbones - the mouth is not as generously shaped as Xander's but it is a nice mouth none the less. The dark brows and lashes are compelling. He is so not a natural blond! He and Buffy must keep Clairol in business! Talk about made for each other ---
She can't help but feel - well - a little naughty. It is her fiancé after all ---
TBC
By Penmom
As you well know, the usual things apply. This is a short work that has been rolling around in my head for weeks. Place this in mid Season 6. Whether I continue is up in the air. Premise - Xander and Spike switch bodies Feedback! I love it - I can't wait to see what you make of this!
Chapter Three - Here Comes the Sun
By the time Spike is polishing off his waffles, Xander is on his third cup of - well, you know ---. Seeing this, Spike can't help but comment. "You really need to try it with a little burpa weed, puts a nice little kick in it."
Seeing the mortified expression on Spike-shaped Xander's face, Buffy intervenes before the fur begins to fly yet again. "Come on Spike, leave it. This will be over soon enough."
Furiously thinking of a way to break up the party, Buffy says the first thing that pops in her head, "Hey it's almost six, the sun's going to be up soon. Don't you want come see? Take advantage of the whole not-going-poof thing while you can?"
Xander jumps in the conversation to voice his concerns, "Buffy, I mean it - so help me, if you take him out --- I mean, I so don't want a tattoo!" Xander's exclamation ends in a yawn. He didn't know vamps yawned. He suddenly changes the subject, "Why I am so sleepy?"
Spike happily supplies the answer, "Well, duh? Vamp equals sleep all day."
Buffy grabs Xander-shaped Spike's hand and pulls him out of the kitchen. "Hey, why don't you go take a quick shower - you know, the whole human, hygiene thingy - and we'll make a day of it. I have the day off."
Whatever else is running through his mind, the thought of having Buffy to himself all day is appealing enough to win his consent and he is banished to the bathroom. Just as he readies to step in the shower he hears his own voice - albeit a little flat - declaring - "He so better not be bleaching my hair!"
************************ Soon enough Spike is out of the shower. He can't help but check out the package. Actually, it's much better than he would have initially thought. Then again, Anya must see something in the boy --- well, OK - man - he'd give him that. Actually, he finds Harris to be in better shape than he would have thought. While it's a kind of hulky Angel-kind of fit, it would do - for now.
Shaving goes OK enough but the hair - the hair needs some work. Luckily, Anya has a huge stash of hair care products under the sink. Deciding on some mousse that is advertised to have light-reflecting particles for an 'all day shine', he goes to work.
Inspecting his results in the mirror, Spike is a bit bummed to see that again, he is catching a little of the Angel-thing. Resolving that he can do nothing about what he has to work with, he drapes a towel around his waist and ventures out of the bathroom.
Someone has laid a neat stack of clothing in the floor. Looking at the choices, he knows that Buffy is the culprit. Despite her vocal protests she has weeded through Harris' closet and come up with the best she can go such short notice - boxer briefs, faded jeans, scuffed up boots, a navy T- shirt and an old brown leather jacket. No plaid in sight, that's my girl he thinks.
When he's dressed, he makes his way out into the Living Room to find Buffy dozing on the couch. Normally, he would immediately seize on the opportunity to make a play for her but in this giant, economy-size body, he's a little shy - believe it or not. Do you or do you not want your girl to want you - when you are in someone else's body. Especially when the someone else is so very different from you. And if, by some twist of fate, something romantic were to happen - would it be cheating? What if she found that she liked this body better? Ahhh, the whole thing had a slight 'Midsummer Night's Dream' quality to it. If that were the case, what would the ultimate moral be - he wonders ---?
Ahhh well, first things first. He reaches out to shake her shoulder. She jumps a good five inches off the sofa - jumpy little thing.
"Can't say as I blame you." He intones.
"Umm?" answers the sleepy maiden.
Looking sheepishly at his shoes, he continues. "I mean the jumpiness - can't say as I blame you. This whole altered state thing is pretty weird."
In the time he has been speaking, she has had a chance to better survey this Xanderized version of Spike. Since the whole bathroom thing, he looks like a hipper version of Xander - the clothes are tighter - making her wonder why Xander always wears such baggy clothes. That thought connects back to the whole swim team incident from high school. She had the same thought then too - and a few others
The hair is way different - spiked up a bit. But the biggest change is something subtler - something about his facial expression - the smirk on his mouth as he realizes that she is surveying him like a piece of property.
"Like what you see, Luv?"
She gives him a wholly exasperated look. "No, ahh no. It's just you look different."
"Well, I should say so ---"
"No. I mean, you look different than Xander. But you are Xander. I mean you're not but you are. I mean, you just don't look exactly like Xander."
"And what do I look like Pet?" He can't help but fish for compliments even in this other body.
"You look like you but like you're wearing a Xander suit. You still look like you!" She exclaims, actually sounding irritated.
"And that's a good thing?" he asks, pushing the envelope further still.
"No, Yes. I don't know. It just is. With that she jumps up and grabs her book bag more than ready to change the conversation.
He follows her out the door and down the shaded stair well. He stops before the point where the weak morning light has already fallen. She steps out into the sun before noticing his hesitation. She turns and without thought, holds her hand out to him.
Taking her warm little hand, he steps out into the sun. He lifts his eyes up squinting up into the sun. For several long moments he looks up. Buffy is just as mesmerized by his reaction as he is to the sun. Finally, he looks to her - eyes shining with unshed tears. Before she know it, she is swept up into his arms and is swung around and around until they are both laughing and dizzy.
It seems like the most natural thing in the world as his lips crush into hers - warm lips on warm - hearts beating - the happiness of the moment - the preciousness of the moment.
Somehow in the moments since this altered Spike has stepped out into the sun something - this thing between them - has changed. This body is no longer just Xander - it's Spike - albeit changed but it's Spike. When they finally draw apart Buffy's hand is pressed against his beating heart.
There are no words for a few more seconds.
Guess I look like a soddin' fool, huh? Stupid grin on this mug, eh?"
She reaches up to touch his face, the side of the brow where the familiar scar usually is.
"No, you look happy."
"You look happy too" Suddenly he blushes and looks down. Feeling shy. Feeling the autonomic reaction to this emotion for the first time in over one hundred and twenty years - he feels a little more like William than Spike. Sweaty palms, heart pounding, face hot - it feels good - humbles you kind of ---
He notices Buffy is flushed too. He realizes he has taken so much of her - of her communication for grated. These subtle expressions - how much of what he knows of her is based on his vampire assessments of her physical body - sounds, scents. She is so much more - in the silence of this human body - he must rely more on what she chooses to give him. He suddenly realizes that she picks up on this too. That she seems somehow easier with this version of him - that she can pick and choose what he understands of her.
***************
Anya snuggles deep into the covers. It's a common human pleasure but it's come to be one of her favorites - warm bed, dark room, clean sheets. Those moments where you float between sleep and wakefulness.
With a long contented sigh, she turns towards Xander. Expecting his big, warm body to enfold hers. Being cradled in his warmth - the feeling of him accepting her to him in sleep, curling his bigger body protectively about her own. It is a visceral comfort.
There is a body in the familiar spot but the body does not feel right - not warm - not cold just not warm - and it is all angular and still. The body does seem to recognize hers and moves to reach for her, pulling her closer.
This contact wakes her fully and Xander's predicament is quickly recalled. She cranes her neck around toward him. The vision in front of her peaks her interest - the lean jaw, the chiseled cheekbones - the mouth is not as generously shaped as Xander's but it is a nice mouth none the less. The dark brows and lashes are compelling. He is so not a natural blond! He and Buffy must keep Clairol in business! Talk about made for each other ---
She can't help but feel - well - a little naughty. It is her fiancé after all ---
TBC