Disclaimer: All the vampires belong to Joss (doo dah, doo dah).

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Chapter 6
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Xander and Anya had arrived at Buffy’s house ten minutes after they hung up the phone, and were conferring with Willow in hushed whispers in the living room. Anya had performed the disinvite spell, and they had all agreed that they would sit Buffy down and calmly explain their concerns to her, practicing what they were going to say. Anya had wondered what they were going to do if Buffy got violent, but Willow and Xander thought it unlikely. “She might get mad,” Willow reasoned. “But she’d never hurt us.”
 
They had kept watch anxiously, looking out the front window constantly to see if she was back yet. Now it was Willow’s turn to gasp as she looked out once more and saw Spike tenderly kiss Buffy’s cheek, while Buffy stroked his face. “They’re both here!” Willow hissed. “What do we do?”
 
“Let’s just remember what we agreed to say, and ask her to just talk to us for a second without Spike,” Xander said with a confidence he didn’t actually feel.
 
Outside, Buffy led the way to the front door, unconsciously taking the lead, despite the fact that she was still Spike-shaped. She took a deep breath, then strode up to the door, only to find herself slamming into what felt like an invisible wall. “Ow! What the hell?” She tried to grab the doorknob, but her hand bounced again off the mystical barrier.
 
Spike dropped his jaw and stared at Buffy. “You disinvited me? Why?”
 
“I didn’t disinvite you!” Buffy protested. “You were here yesterday, remember?” She brought her hand up once more to feel the barrier. “It must have been Willow or something. Can you open the door?”
 
Spike walked up and turned the knob, stepping over the threshold. As he was about to turn and invite Buffy in, Willow called, “Buffy, wait! We just want to talk to you alone for a moment. Spike might be dangerous!”
 
Spike turned and looked at them. “What in the hell are you talking about? I’m not dangerous,” he said in obvious exasperation.
 
The Scoobies looked at each other confused. “No, Buff, we said Spike is dangerous. He came into the Magic Box all fanged out and lunged at us,” Xander explained, wondering if Buffy had truly lost it.
 
“I most certainly did not!” Buffy said indignantly from the other side of the barrier. “Will you just shut up and listen to us? And let me in my house you morons!”
 
“Your house? Since when?” Willow sputtered. Ignoring the presumed vampire, she turned to the presumed Slayer in front of her. “Buffy, there’s something wrong with you. You seem to be really confused and out of sorts today.”
 
“And you were kissing Spike,” Anya put in. “I mean, that’s not what Slayers do.”
 
“If you would all just shut up for a moment, and let us explain,” Spike snarled. “You might actually find that you don’t fucking know what you’re talking about.” He turned to the door, “Come…”
 
Xander jumped forward and grabbed Spike’s arm. “Buffy stop! He’s got you under some kind of control or something. You’ve got to listen to us! We’re trying to help you.”
 
“Get your bloody hands off me!” Spike yelled, turning and shoving Xander so hard that he flew backward and stumbled to the floor. “Slayer, would you please come in here so that we can enlighten these idiots?”
 
The barrier disappeared and Buffy stepped inside. “We can try, I suppose” Buffy sighed. They turned to face the others, whose faces showed a combination of confusion and fear.
 
“What’s going on?” came a voice from upstairs. Dawn appeared on the stairway, having been woken by all the noise.
 
“Buffy seems to be having a breakdown of some sort and we’re trying to do an intervention,” Anya said.
 
“I am NOT having a breakdown!” Buffy cried. “I’m in Spike’s body, you dumbasses! We switched somehow!”
 
The others stopped dead, jaws dropping, completely mystified. “Come again?” Willow finally spit out.
 
“When the Slayer and I woke up this morning, we were somehow in each other’s bodies. We don’t know how,” Spike explained. “Been trying to find a way to tell you guys all damn day.”
 
“You… wait… what?” Xander sputtered.
 
Buffy and Spike both rolled their eyes. Buffy spoke slowly, as if to a small child. “Xander. I am Buffy, trapped in Spike’s body. Like the body swap with Faith, remember? Only this time I have no clue how. I went to bed here, woke up in a crypt with a sunlight allergy.”
 
“And between teacher conferences and being ordered about and helping with homework, I never got a moment to tell you folks that I was stuck in the Slayer’s body all day. I figured it was better to tell you lot when both of us were together, given your tendency to overreaction.” He glared at them with Buffy’s green eyes.
 
“So that wasn’t Buffy?” Dawn asked. Everyone turned to her and Spike’s heart sank when he saw the hurt look on her face. “I should have known. I should have known that my actual sister wouldn’t want to spend time with me.” She turned and fled back up the stairs, slamming her bedroom door.
 
“Dawn!” Spike and Buffy called after her. Shit, thought Spike. Knew this would happen. He turned to Buffy, “One of us should go talk to her.”
 
“She’ll be fine for a moment,” Buffy said. Turning to the others she said, “Are you guys done now? Do you finally get it?”
 
The Scoobies looked at Buffy and Spike in disbelief. “So, all that grouchiness today? That was Spike?” Xander asked.
 
“I wasn’t grouchy!” Spike exploded. “I was doing my best to take care of Buffy’s commitments until we could figure this out. Pardon me if I didn’t live up to your standards.”
 
“Look,” Buffy broke in. “I’m exhausted and I’m in pain right now. Whatever caused this will have to get sorted out in the morning. I need you guys to leave.”
 
Anya and Xander couldn’t quite get their brains around this creature shaped like Spike, with Spike’s voice, ordering them out of Buffy’s house. They looked to Willow for guidance. “Spike… er… Buffy’s right. We can’t sort this out right now. We’ll have to go into research mode tomorrow.”
 
“But then… who’s staying here?” Anya asked in confusion. “The body, or the brain?”
 
“We are both staying here,” Buffy said firmly. “Now can you please let me be for a while?”
 
Xander and Anya reluctantly got their jackets and left, giving several unsure backward glances at Spike and Buffy. Spike closed the door and faced Willow. “Red, the Slayer and I need to talk. Alone. Now.”
 
“Um, sure,” Willow said. “I’ll just… I’ll be going upstairs now.” She made her way uncertainly to the stairs. She turned back at the top, but in the end couldn’t think of anything to say, so she retired uncertainly to her room.
 
“You need to sit down, Slayer,” Spike said. Buffy took off Spike’s duster and made her way over to the couch. She eased herself down and put her feet up on the coffee table. Spike took his place next to her and asked, “How’s the ribs?”
 
“Better, but still sore. At least the headache’s gone. They weren’t kidding when they made that chip, were they?” Buffy said.
 
“I could probably write a book about all the things I would like to do to the guy who invented that thing,” Spike admitted.
 
“After experiencing the effects, I think I might offer to hold him down while you did it,” Buffy said. “Can you bring me up to speed on what Dawn’s issue is?”
 
Spike took a deep breath. “It’s like this. This morning she was pretty upset that you, or what she took to be you, had apparently forgotten about the teacher conference. After school she came to the Magic Box and I offered to help her with her homework instead of that goddamn inventory bullshit. I let her prattle on about school and boys and all that teenage stuff – none of us have really spent any quality time with the girl since Tara left. I helped her with her French, let her have pizza for dinner. I think she was really happy that you were taking notice of her. So now she’s pretty pissed that it wasn’t really you.”
 
Buffy closed Spike’s blue eyes and rubbed her temples. Shit, shit, shit. I really don’t need to deal with the teenage crap right now. “I suppose we should go talk to her,” Buffy said wearily. “Although I don’t exactly know what to say.” She hauled herself off the couch and looked up at the stairs without enthusiasm.
 
“It’ll be alright, Slayer. Just need to explain things to the girl, that’s all.” He tried to sound self-assured, but he had the feeling that the rift between the sisters had just gotten a lot deeper.
 
Spike led the way to Dawn’s room and he knocked quietly on the door. “Dawn? May we come in?”
 
“No,” came Dawn’s curt reply.
 
Ignoring her, Spike opened the door anyway. “That’s no way to talk, missy,” he said sternly. “Your sister and I have had a long, completely screwed up day, and we just want to clear the air with you a bit.”
 
Dawn turned over on her bed to face away from them. “You lied to me. The one person I could ever trust to be straight with me. You made me think that Buffy actually cared about me for once.”
 
“Dawn, I do care about you,” Buffy insisted. “I’m sorry if I haven’t been as on top of things as I could be. I’m really trying. It’s just been so hard for me.”
 
“So why do I have to suffer then?” Dawn yelled, sitting up and fixing them with a furious look. “You came back and didn’t want to. I get it. But I didn’t ask for any of this! Maybe if I actually got sent to a foster home you might take ten minutes to, I don’t know, notice I’m gone? As it is I could probably sprout horns and you’d never notice!”
 
“That’s not fair and you know it,” Spike said. “Your sis loves you more than anything on this earth. You could be a little more grateful and understanding instead of adding to her problems.”
 
“Sorry my existence causes problems,” Dawn spit out bitterly.
 
“Dawn, you’re not a problem,” Buffy said, her eyes filling with tears. “I promise to try harder, I really do. Please, just give me a chance?”
 
“Promises. Everyone makes them,” Dawn said, turning her back on them once more. “Just leave me alone.”
 
“Nibblet, look, can we just…” Spike began.
 
“Get OUT!” she screamed.
 
“Fine,” Buffy snarled. She stormed out of the room, hurt tears spilling down her cheeks. Spike looked at Dawn with a frown stitched across Buffy’s face, but in the end he decided to leave her to calm down. Makes me long for the old days when you could take a switch to her for talking to her elders like that. He closed the door and went downstairs to where Buffy sat, slouched on the couch looking miserable.
 
“You alright Slayer?” he asked.
 
“I’m fine. She’s right. I suck at this whole guardian thing.”
 
“That’s bollocks,” Spike said. The slang still sounded completely bizarre in Buffy’s American accent. “You take everything on your shoulders, and no one lifts a damn finger to help you. It’s no bloody wonder you’re tired and depressed all time.” He was angry, and it showed through in Buffy’s blazing green eyes.
 
Buffy shook her head and rubbed her eyes. “I’m so tired. I just can’t figure all this out right now. Please.”
 
Spike took pity on the Slayer once more and decided not to press the point. “Come on, love,” he said. He coaxed her off the couch and upstairs to her room. “Why don’t you take the bed tonight. You’re probably still sore, and I’ll fit better on the couch in my current state.”
 
“Ok,” Buffy agreed. When she got to her room she sat down to take off her shoes while Spike looked around at the room. “Do you have any extra quilts?”
 
“Hall closet. Why?” Buffy asked.
 
“Gotta cover the windows. Woke up with a sunbeam on my face this morning. Must’ve jumped fifteen feet in the air, shrieking like a girl.”
 
“Um, you are a girl,” Buffy said with a faint smile.
 
“Well, yeah, I guess,” Spike said. “But I’ve still got my manly interior to worry about.” He went out to find the quilt while Buffy hung Spike’s duster carefully over a chair. She hunted around to find something to sleep in that would fit Spike’s body, but she had no luck. Spike came back in and said, “What are you looking for, pet?”
 
Buffy frowned. “I feel weird sleeping with no pajamas,” she admitted.
 
Spike laughed a bit. “Well, I feel weird sleeping with pajamas, so I guess we’re even.” He hung the quilt carefully over the curtain rod, tucking it in securely. He turned to see Buffy holding out a pair of dark blue pajamas.
 
“These are the least girly of them,” she said. “Really don’t want you parading my body past all the windows for the neighbors to see, if you don’t mind.”
 
Spike looked to the heavens. “The things I put up with,” he muttered. He took the proffered pajamas and said, “You get some sleep now, Slayer. We’ll sort all this out in the morning.” He made his way toward the bathroom to change.
 
“Spike?” Buffy called. He turned at the doorway. Sheepishly, Buffy said, “Thanks for taking care of me.”
 
“Anytime,” he said quietly. After the door closed Buffy took off Spike’s jeans and folded them, placing them on the chair with his duster. She decided to sleep in the t-shirt and climbed in under the covers. She reached over and turned off the light, mindful of how the sheets slipped and slid over her half naked body. Slightly ashamed, but curious, she reached down to explore the male body parts she had only glimpsed in the morning. Having this thing hanging out all over the place was truly weird. How do guys put up with this thing flopping around all over when they sleep? she wondered. She found the sensation of the foreskin pulling back to be almost as strange as the sensation of fangs popping into her mouth. There was just no female analogue. As she explored she found that her, or rather Spike’s, cock was lengthening, becoming aroused. Embarrassment and lust fought in Buffy’s head, but lust won in the end as she stroked this strange appendage she was suddenly connected to. She found herself remembering scenes from that night in the abandoned house. His tongue. Oh my God that thing he did with his tongue. And when he held my hands down and did that… dance or whatever he did with his hips… She closed her eyes and stroked faster, falling into a rhythm. Spike… With a stifled groan she came, reveling in the explosive sensation. Wow. No wonder guys want it all the time. But a moment later she realized two things – the bed was now sticky, and she had been essentially giving Spike a hand job. That was just… wrong. Absolutely wrong, in every way there is to be wrong. Disgusted with her own lack of self control, she moved over to the dry side of the bed and settled in. Between the long night and the sexual release, she found herself asleep within minutes.
 
Spike had gone into the bathroom, extracted himself from the female clothing, and used the toilet. These bodily functions are a bit of a drag, he mused. Forgot how much time humans spend in the WC. He was grateful that they were beyond the era of privies and chamber pots. The memory of shivering in the winter to answer the call of nature was not one he cherished. He got into the blue satin pajamas, enjoying the feeling against his skin. The ladies always do know how to luxuriate. He grabbed a spare pillow and blanket from the hall closet and went down to make himself comfortable on the couch, shutting off lights as he went. He settled in and found it was reasonably comfortable, especially given his current height. Buffy’s body was so tiny she could curl up almost anywhere. He found himself tossing and turning a bit though. It had been such a roller coaster of a day. He lay on his back, his hands resting on his stomach. One hand moved up to stroke Buffy’s breasts, feeling the pebble-like nipples under the smooth satin. Interesting, he thought as he tweaked and played with the nipples. He knew that women were turned on when he fondled their breasts, but he never quite knew about the direct connection between the nipples and their sex. It was like a little electric shock, and he found himself getting moist between the legs. Buffy would probably freak out if she knew I was playing with her body, he thought. But she doesn’t need to know, now does she? He snaked his other hand into the pajama bottoms, experimenting until he found the right buttons to press. He closed his eyes, his fingers slick and flying over Buffy’s clit. Too bad she isn’t more flexible. Would love to dip my tongue in her again. The memory of going down on her in that shattered basement sent him over the edge with a shudder and a gasp. He was intrigued by what a woman’s orgasm felt like. It was deeper somehow, not as violent, but longer and more consuming. Need to store that knowledge away for later, William. Who knows, she might someday let you touch her again. He sighed and rolled on his side, drifting off to sleep, wondering how this was all going to play out.
 
TBC