Disclaimer: Buffy and Spike aren’t mine, I just make them play out ‘what if’ scenarios

Author’s note: Thanks to the Fab Aribelle for betaing this chapter! Thanks to Mary, Copy, Wulfie, Tam, EAS, spet, Opal, Samson28, Max, and ComedyofErrors for the kind reviews!
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Chapter 2: Confusing Limbs

Buffy registered the shriek in her sleep muddled mind. Mom must be watching TV while she cleans, thought the Slayer.

Her body craved sleep. The fight last night had taken some of the energy out of her and she just wanted a few more minutes in the land of nod before going back to her dorm room.

Which so wasn’t happening with the person who was shaking her arm.

This posed some questions. Namely, who the hell was in her room shaking her arm?

Buffy groaned and rolled over hoping whoever it was would just leave her alone.

No such luck though, as the pushing and shoving was accompanied by the tones of a British girl.

“Wake the bloody hell up Slayer, fix this!” came the girl’s voice.

Buffy moaned again, and peeked an eye open. Her eyes went wide as she saw what could only be described as her identical evil twin was staring at her.

“Um, from the vampy Willow dimension?” Buffy asked sitting up on her bed. There was something wrong though, that wasn’t her voice, was it?

Buffy looked down at her body for a moment, her eyes meeting all black clothing and a leather duster.

“Holy crap,” she muttered.
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“You have so got to be kidding me!” the Slayer exclaimed as she paced the living room, her mother and Spike in her body sitting on the couch watching her activity.

“Will you sit down!” said the exasperated vampire stuck in the Slayer’s body.

Buffy whipped Spike’s head around to face the creature inhabiting her body. She opened his mouth in preparation to slam him down, tell him he was being unreasonable, blame him for their current predicament, but suddenly looking at her face, her green eyes gazing back with concern, she couldn’t do it.

With a huff, Buffy sat down on the empty side of the couch, her mother providing a barrier to the two adversaries. Joyce tentatively put her hands on the backs of the two individuals that sat on her couch, not really understanding the story that they had babbled at her this morning.

“How did this happen?” Buffy whined, the very male voice that came from her throat a mockery of the tone. “I can remember feeling weird after you handed me that doodad last night,” she continued.

Spike looked across at the Slayer and nodded. “Sounds about right, Slayer. Damned if I know what that bit of metal was though, found it on the street.”

“It’s gone now, whatever it is, it’s not in the kitchen,” whined Buffy.

“Wouldn’t it be best if you were to call Mr Giles, find out if he can help you?” asked Joyce with little concern in her voice.

Joyce was finding the scene slightly comical, and perhaps a good tool for Buffy to finally see that Spike wasn’t the horrible demon and evil villain that she thought he was, and he wished himself to be.

“Get the Watcher over here then, fix us right up,” agreed Spike.

“He’s not home,” muttered Buffy as she slumped her head into her hands.

“Bleedin’ hell!” exclaimed Spike, his newly acquired voice reaching new pitches that just shouldn’t be coming out of his mouth. “I’m not bloody staying in your girly body Slayer!”

Buffy stood up, her hands on her hips. “You think I like being in your body, with an appendage that thinks for itself? God! You aren’t the only one that’s unhappy with the accommodations.”

Spike cast a glance at the appendage in question. Yep, Spike junior was making his presence known.

Joyce exhaled suddenly, catching the two adversaries off guard. “I think that it would be a good idea for you to stay here Spike, until this whole thing is sorted out.”

Buffy nodded in agreement. “That way I can keep an eye on you in my body. I don’t want to end up with revenge from Spike and find you’ve gotten me tattooed or pierced when I have my back turned.” She turned to face him, dismayed at the smirk that was passing across her own face, as if hundreds of dirty perverted thoughts were dancing through that head.

Stepping closer to the vampire trapped in her body she raised a black nail polished finger and poked him hard in the shoulder.

“You even think of doing anything remotely gross, perverted or just plain icky in my body and I will personally see to it that when we are returned to our own bodies your manly bits will be cut off and left to fry in the morning sun. Got me bleach boy?”

“Buffy!” exclaimed a shocked Joyce.

Spike sighed, and clapped his hands down on his newly acquired thighs and rose from the couch. “Clearly I’m not wanted here. Thank you Joyce for your hospitality, but alas I cannot stay. Pressing vampire business and all that,” he said haughtily.

“Oh no, you don’t. Didn’t you hear me earlier when I said I wanted to keep an eye on you?” said Buffy furiously in his way.

“I did, but it lacked that Slayer conviction I loathe and detest,” he added.

“Mom!” Buffy turned around and whined at her mother.

“Buffy! Enough!” shouted her mother exasperated. “I think maybe you both need to calm down and think about this rationally. Just because you aren’t in your own bodies doesn’t mean that you can’t act civilly to each other. How about I make you two some breakfast, and Buffy why don’t you try calling Giles again?”

Buffy slumped in defeat, the blue eyes of her borrowed body looking down at the scuffed doc martins that adorned her feet.

“Yes, mom,” she muttered. “But then I’m totally having a shower and changing into something less....punk and vintage. God! The seventies are over Spike!”

“And just what are you going to change into Slayer?” Spike asked. “Got a stash of clothes my size hidden around here do you?”

Buffy’s eyes went wide. Actually... she thought. A smirk passed over the face she was borrowing. Without another word, Buffy turned, Spike’s leather coat floating up behind her, and headed into the kitchen for the phone.

Spike stared dumbfounded at the Slayer in his body, using his patented smirk against him. And she called him evil.

Joyce patted Spike’s knee and smiled. “If you want to use the shower in my room go ahead,” she offered. “I’m sure Buffy will be more than happy to see her body clean and in new clothes.”

“Looked a bit slept in do I?” asked Spike, as he fingered the long blonde locks that swayed as he talked. It was damn distracting.

“Just a bit,” Joyce chuckled. “Don’t worry Spike, things will sort themselves out.” Joyce stood up from the couch and walked into the kitchen, where her daughter was being sarcastic into the phone.

“Cause I care oh so very much that Faith’s going to jail Giles. She’s a murderer, she deserves to go there.”

Joyce couldn’t believe that her daughter had so little compassion left in her. Yes Faith was a criminal, but, Joyce thought, she was also a girl who had lost her way, and she needed love. Joyce smiled and shook her head. It was odd how only a half a day past she was held hostage by the girl in question, and now she was lamenting the fact that she was going to be sent to jail.

Joyce set out the makings for an omelette as Buffy finished up her phone call with Giles. She contemplated exactly what she was going to serve to Buffy now that she was in a vampire’s body. Yes, Spike regularly ate real food, but he needed blood. She’d have to go to the Butcher’s. Carefully, Joyce placed the items for the omelette back into the fridge and pulled her purse out from behind the back door.

“Buffy?” Joyce asked her daughter who was hanging up the phone in a huff. “I’m going out for a bit, got to pick up a few things.”

Buffy nodded for a moment registering her mother’s words. All at once, a shocked gasp left her lips.

“You are just leaving him here with me?” asked Buffy aghast.

“Nothing is going to happen Buffy. I’ll be gone for half an hour, tops. You’ll be fine.”

Joyce watched as a pout formed over her daughter’s newly acquired face. The image of Spike pouting was priceless. Joyce passed Buffy on her way out of the kitchen, placing a peck on her chiselled cheek.

The door to 1630 Revello drive closed behind her mother bringing Buffy to the startling realisation that she was indeed left with Spike in her house. Buffy scanned the living room. Where is that vampire menace? she asked herself.

Buffy’s eyes turned to the ceiling as she heard the familiar sound of the shower turning on. The shower! With unaccustomed vampire speed, Buffy rushed up the stairs, threw back the door to the bathroom and ripped open the shower curtain.

Spike looked like he had been caught in the headlights, one hand on a breast, one clinging to the smooth belly that he had been lathering up.

“You are taking a shower in my body?” she yelled, uncaring that the water was still streaming down on the blond in the tub, and now was forming puddles on the floor.

“How can I put this into language you can understand Slayer?” snarked back Spike, hands dropping from their previous position and find pose on hips in an indignant posture. “Duh!”

“I thought I told you nothing perverted?” she spat back.

“And just what was I doing that was perverted? Getting your girly body all clean aren’t I?”

“You were feeling me up!”

Spike smiled at that comment. “Guess I was at that,” he chuckled. His laughter lasted until his noticed his own eyes darkening in anger. “Look, it’s required to get you clean isn’t it? Wasn’t doing it on purpose.”

“And what was wrong with staying dry and fully clothed?” asked Buffy.

Spike’s eye brow rose with a question. “’Cause staying like that was gross Slayer, you smelled.”

Buffy gasped. “I did not!”

Spike sent her a knowing look.

“Ok,” she conceded. “Maybe I did. You...Gah! I don’t trust you to not do anything icky.”

“Why don’t you get your hot bod in here and you can make sure I keep my hands to myself,” he offered.

Buffy tilted her head to the side pondering his proposal. It had a certain kind of logic to it. And she needed to have a shower too.

“In or out Slayer, water’s accumulating.”

Without another word, the hands that Buffy controlled began to disrobe the muscular body she was inhabiting. Buffy placed Spike’s duster on top of the closed toilet, followed by the tight black tee. With some difficulty Buffy removed the Doc Martins and black socks.

The final article of clothing of clothing posed a bit of a problem for Buffy. She stared down at the waist band of the black jeans. She could feel the fact that Spike did not wear underwear, and she was trying to be modest in light of the situation.

Buffy looked up and met Spike’s green eyes.

“I...I can’t,” she whimpered. “I...I have a boyfriend...it’s...”

“Oh bloody hell,” Spike muttered, as he stepped out of the tub and stalked, dripping towards his body. With a tug the button holding his jeans up was undone, and the zipper, unzipped. Spike grabbed the waist band of his jeans and yanked the pants down, ending up squatting on the floor by his feet.

Cautiously Buffy stepped out of the pants, her eyes staring straight ahead, forcing herself not to look down.

Spike looked up from his position on the floor; his view of his own face blocked by the hard on that Buffy was sporting. Standing up he brushed his hand against his cock, which twitched at the contact.

“Looks like you’ve got yourself a bit of a problem there Slayer,” he smirked.

Buffy met his eyes, still refusing to look down. “It’s been like that since I woke up,” she whined.

“Missed my morning wank is all.”

With a smile, Spike took her hand and led her into the shower, the warm cascade of water coating both their bodies. He turned her hand palm up and squirted some fruity smelling body wash into it.

Instinctively Buffy knew exactly what he was expecting. Buffy lathered up the body wash and started rubbing the soapy suds over her body. It was a surreal feeling, washing oneself when one was in another body, and there was something erotic about seeing Spike’s fingers caressing her body. Buffy groaned unexpectedly as the tension that had been settling in her groin increased. She needed friction. What she needed was to get rid of Spike’s erection.

“Are you going to do anything about this?” Buffy asked pointing to Spike’s hard cock.

Spike raised an eyebrow at the Slayer.

“It’s your body Spike; I’m not touching it, not with a ten foot pole.”

“That would be the pole up your ass then Slayer?” he muttered, earning him an indignant glare.

The glare didn’t last long though, her attention brought back to the throbbing cock that was attached to her.

“Please Spike?” she asked.

Spike looked down at his hard cock and felt Buffy’s body respond to the sight. He suppressed his own whimper as he reached for his hard prick.

Buffy gasped as she felt fingers grasping Spike’s cock. It felt good. It felt really good. With trepidation, Buffy dared to glance downwards to where the sensations of pleasure were coming from. Her mouth opened as she took in possibly the most erotic sight she had seen in quite some time. Yes that even included the last couple of times you did it with Riley, she had to admit to herself.

Spike was large; larger than Riley, larger than Angel and a lot larger than Parker. Briefly she wondered what it would feel like to have that thrust up her core.

She gasped again as she felt a thumb brush over the head of Spike’s cock, smearing the precum across the slit. Spike was nimbly using her hands on his cock, touching just the right spots to bring himself off. His eyes were closed in concentration.

It was habit. When he wanked off he regularly thought of the lithe body he was inhabiting. Now, jerking off his body when he wasn’t in it...old habits die hard.

Spike rubbed Buffy’s thighs together to try and give himself some relief from the same tension that he was trying to help her with. He wanted nothing more than to let Buffy’s little hands explore her pussy. He just knew that if he tried something like that, he was going to get punched in the nose for his troubles.

With a gasp Buffy shot, coating her hands with Spike’s cum and part of her tummy too.

“Thanks,” she said softly, reaching for the body wash once more and washing the cum off of her body.

Desperately she wanted to reconcile exactly what happen in her brain. They were operating under a kind of logic, really. This is Spike’s body, he just did what he normally does to his body she thought to herself as she refused to meet his eyes.

But damn, it felt good, she concluded before chastising herself for thinking about Spike’s/her orgasm, brought about by her hands.

My hands touched Spike’s...gahh!

Her indignation faded away as Spike settled his body under the spray and began rinsing his hair. Resisting a moan as her little hands feathered over Spike‘s hard body, Buffy decided that this was not the place for inner monologue turmoil.

She pushed away her mental conflict and handed the bottle of body wash to Spike. In silence, the two adversaries washed their own bodies enjoying the last moments of the warm water.
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tbc...