Betad by seapealsh and dawnofme.

There's a little homage to the late great Douglas Adams in the latter section of the chapter - if you've read Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy you'll no doubt spot it. :D





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Chapter One Oops!


Spike could hear the fight in the graveyard as soon as he stepped out of his crypt.


“Bloody hell.  What’s the Slayer up to now?” he muttered and went to watch the action. You never know, I might actually get to see her get her arse kicked,he thought with glee.


Smiling, he headed over towards the ruckus.  As he approached, he could see Buffy in combat with a huge demon.  It was a perfectly grotesque green, covered in lumps, and had an extra eye in the middle of its forehead that glowed a dull orange.


Spike saw Giles standing to one side, moving from foot to foot in his usual indecisive manner, shouting instructions to the Slayer.


“Go for the eye,” he yelled.


“I’m trying to,” Buffy yelled back, thrusting her sword at the beast.


Spike ambled over to Giles.


“Having a bit of bother, are we?” he said with a smirk.


“Help her, Spike,” said Giles, wincing on Buffy’s behalf as the demon threw her backwards, her body slamming into a headstone.


“Now why should I do that?” drawled Spike. “This is much more fun.”


Buffy leapt up, grabbed the sword that she’d dropped as she’d flown through the air, and ran the demon through with it.  At that precise moment, the demon, who had turned to face Giles and Spike, suddenly let out a roar.  Its third eye opened wide and a blinding shaft of orange light flew from it hitting both Giles and Spike; blowing them off their feet, and then depositing them with crushing force some twenty feet away.  They both lay still.


“Giles!” cried Buffy.  She pulled her sword from the demon’s belly.  It fell to the ground as she did and then disappeared in a puff of orange smoke.  She ran to where they lay.


“Giles, are you okay?” Buffy asked as she knelt beside him, taking his hand.


He started to stir and, with a groan, sat up, putting his free hand up to his head; which was throbbing abominably.


“I’m…I’m all right,” he stuttered.


“What the hell was that?” asked Buffy.


“Not too sure,” he said, looking around. “Where is it?”


“It’s gone.  Just went ‘poof’ after I’d killed it."


Spike moaned, rolled over and got up.


“I’m fine, by the way.  Thanks for asking,” he said.


“Whatever,” replied Buffy.


Spike huffed at her.  “God, I need a drink,” he said and he staggered off to his trusty stash of JD in his crypt.


Buffy helped Giles get to his feet.


“We’re done?” she said. “No more slayage?  No more patrolling?”


“For tonight, yes; we’re done,” said Giles weakly.  It’d been hard enough to get her to patrol in the first place and he knew that she couldn’t wait to get back to Riley.

*~*~*~*


The next morning…


Spike woke up and God, he felt like shite. I must have overdone it with the JD after that demon did its ‘glowy’ thing.


He opened his eyes and saw to his amazement a white painted ceiling above him, not the cobwebbed stone of his crypt.


Did I get lucky last night?  Can’t remember going out again.


He went to sit up and his body felt odd, heavy somehow.  Glancing down at his hand he was startled by two things – firstly, it was bathed in light; a ray of sun from the open curtains was enveloping it and swiftly on that revelation’s heels was the realisation that it wasn’t his hand!


What the f-?.


He leapt out of bed and looked down at the rest of himself.   The sight wasn’t a pretty one; due to the blue and red striped pyjama bottoms and what was going on with his stomach? It certainly was no longer its usual taut, flat self.  Plus, his feet looked somewhat further away.  Baffled, he looked around the room.  Things looked a bit fuzzy.  Without realising that he’d done it he put on the pair of glasses that had been on the bedside table.  Things got clearer; well, his sight got clearer.


He walked down the stairs and in the mirror facing him he could see Giles striding down them.


“Giles!” Spike said and whirled around.  He wasn’t there.  “Where the hell have you gone?”


He froze, standing stock-still.  The voice.  It wasn’t his own.  It sounded like…


He spun back round to the mirror.


“Giles!  Sodding hell,” said Spike, looking at his reflection.  “I’m bloody Giles.”


*~*~*~*


At exactly the same time...


Giles woke up with a start, and then regretted it.  He squeezed his eyes closed against the pounding in his head.  He felt more than a little ‘green’.  Pushing the covers off and swinging his feet over the edge of the bed where they dangled, not quite reaching the floor, Giles scowled


That’s odd.  My bed’s not that high.


He opened his eyes and looked around.


What am I doing in Spike’s crypt?


He glanced around once more, but there was no sign of the vampire.  Giles pushed himself off the tomb that had served as his bed, kicking over an empty bottle of JD; which explained the head pounding.  Something wasn’t right.  He hadn’t landed with his usual thud but with something like feline grace, landing lightly on his bare feet.  He looked down at his feet.


“Good lord!” he exclaimed, as he realised that he was naked, his voice echoing around the crypt.


“Oh, my God,” he said as he realised that the naked body wasn’t his own.


“Not again!" 


He’d only just gotten over the fact that Ethan had turned him into a Fyarl demon.  “Least this time I’m still human.”  He glanced at ‘his’ body again.  “Yes, definitely human, a rather lean, fit human by all accounts.”


He looked around for some clothes.  He could see a pile carefully folded on the floor.  He picked them up and saw that they looked like Spike’s but, no matter, they’d do.   And Spike wasn’t around so shouldn’t miss them.  A thought wandered through his mind trying to connect with something, something that he’d missed earlier.  No, he couldn’t place it.  He shrugged, decided not to put on Spike’s jacket; certain tthat he vampire wouldn’t approve of it, and then walked to the door to the crypt.  He pulled it open, but as the light flooded in he gave out a yell and slammed it shut again. It had burned!  He looked down at his faintly smouldering hand.  Suddenly the thought floating through his mind connected with something, his voice hadn’t been his own - it’d been…


“Spike! Oh my God, I’m Spike!”


To be continued…