Disclaimer: Joss is god. Praise to him, from whom all these characters flow.

Author’s note: Did ya read the note from chapter 9 and 10? It gets worse....Thanks and hugs to BTL for the fab betating

Thanks to Tasha, Joyful Dayz, Marzbar, Comedy of Errors, CM, Chanel 5, Jane, BSB, idk, Bubble_blunder, Spet, and Wulfie for the fab reviews!
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Chapter 11: Wisdom Gained

They dressed in silence. Just like the day before, Buffy got out what she wanted Spike to wear on her body for the day, choosing a simple knit sweater and black pants, while Buffy dressed Spike’s body in his trademark black pants and t shirt.

I should have gone shopping yesterday! she thought remarking on the missed opportunity. She slipped on Spike’s T shirt and moved towards her body to help Spike brush her hair.

“I can bloody do it myself,” he snapped back at her.

“Fine!” she barked back, grabbing Spike’s boots and lacing them up. “I don’t know what your problem is all of a sudden. I was just trying to help you out.”

“And I don’t need your help,” he muttered, as he drew the brush through Buffy’s hair, wincing as the tangles pulled.

Buffy rolled Spike’s eyes. She pulled her body closer to her and grabbed the brush out of her hand. They both sat on the edge of the bed, Buffy’s body sitting on Spike’s lap. The brush made quite a few strokes down the length of her hair before he responded.

“They’re comin’ to switch us back, aren’t they luv?” he asked.

Behind her head, Buffy nodded. “I think so.”

There was a pause between them, and the only sound in the room was the quiet swish of the brush passing through Buffy’s hair.

“Would it be wrong to say that, well aside from Riley, and Angel and the no sunlight thing, and Harmony, I don’t mind being in your body?” she offered.

“What about the blood thing?” he asked, turning Buffy’s head to look into his own eyes.

“I’ve already gotten used to it. It’s not so bad, really.”

“And yet...” he started, as he rose from his place on his lap.

Buffy reached out with Spike's and hand and held her body back from its retreat. “No, ‘and yet’ Spike. I’ve gotten used to being in your body. I haven’t gotten used to being a guy yet, with the appendage that thinks for itself, or the chip. I haven’t gotten used to being chips ahoy. But I kinda maybe respect you for it a little. And...and I like what’s happened to us. It’s girly, but I like how we take care of each other.”

“Are you trying to butter me up for anther blow job?” asked Spike, suddenly straddling his body, legs planted on either side of his thighs.

“No,” Buffy answered, almost forcefully.

Spike’s body reacted though, to the thought or to the warm heat seeping through her heavily padded undies. Buffy bit Spike’s lip trying not to think about it. She tried to think of things to make Spike Jr go down: Purple Slime demons, Giles in drag (‘cause, oh yes, she’d seen that picture and repressed that memory for just such an occasion), Xander, The Master, Harmony. But it didn’t work.

It didn’t work because Spike was rubbing her crotch against his denim encased hard on.

It was Spike’s fault.

He guessed it was something to do with women’s physiology or something, cause now that he was over the cramping and the pain and bloating, he felt horny. Hornier than he expected to feel while blood was trickling out of this body.

Blood that his body would be more than willing to drink up. And she was being such a prude about it. He had been sitting there, on his own lap, getting her hair brushed, listening to her say all those, things, things he had never hoped for her to say, and yet...

It was easy enough to make her see just what he wanted, what he needed. However, he had a feeling that he was going to be left high and dry once again, because of her squeamishness.

She was the god damn slayer after all, saw blood on a daily basis. How could this possibly make her cringe?

“Spike...” she warned, his hands grasping at her arms, trying to still his motions.

She knew just how turned on he was in her body. Inside her head she was debating all the things she had been told and had come to know about having sex during her period. Riley wouldn’t do it, no ifs, ands or buts. It was unclean, just like if she got herself off without his help. It was wrong.

It all came to one very logical conclusion: Riley was a moron.

And she liked that conclusion a lot. Cause that conclusion was necessary for Spike kissage.

Spike’s body leaned forward, wrapping arms around Buffy’s body in a possessive embrace, his lips finding hers. Buffy rejoiced in her over use of lip balm, her lips were so soft and kissable.

She filed that thought back in the folder marked ‘Weird’.

Spike’s fingers found the clasp of her pants and slowly slid down the zipper, forcing Spike up off his body so that the garment could slide down Buffy’s legs. In one fluid motion, Buffy had Spike laying on the bed, her legs in the air and peeling off the white bikini briefs that covered her succulent folds.

One look into her green eyes and Buffy could tell that Spike was doing the happy dance in there.

Buffy looked curiously at the wonder that was her sex. She’d never seen it from this angle before. Before she could really contemplate its depth, its complexity, she felt Spike’s mouth begin to salivate at the scent.

“You know you want to try it, Buffy. I won’t tell,” her voice purred sweetly.

Buffy shook Spike’s head forcefully, his fingers nimbly working the button and zipper of Spike’s trousers. She wasn’t going to go there, but that didn’t stop her from going somewhere new.

Spike lifted Buffy’s head up off the comforter of her bed to see just what Buffy was doing down there, only to be surprised as his body crawled up the length of her body, positioning his hard cock at her red and wet entrance.

“Buffy...” he questioned, his voice close to a warning.

This was a big step. This wasn’t oral, this wasn’t heavy petting. This was sex. Sex was dangerously close to intimacy for him. If she did this, not that he was complaining, there was no going back for him, or for her.

Gradually his shaft plunged into her hot recesses, causing both of them to gasp at the unrivalled sensations that were flooding their senses.

“God!” she moaned, as Spike’s body forced the rhythm that the two beings were engaged in.

“Name’s Spike actually,” quipped the vampire, stuck in the Slayer’s body.

“Fuck! Spike! Quip later!” gasped Buffy.

With a nod of her head, Spike obliged, flipping them over, positioning Buffy’s body above his own, ready to ride his body to dust. Buffy was perfectly ok with that, given her inability to form coherent sentences. Spike’s hands were firmly attached to Buffy’s hips, holding her body as he grinded and bounced against his body.

Buffy sought out her lips once more, eager to kiss Spike, in any shape or form.

All thoughts of any possible reconciliation with Wonderbread had left her brain completely. Spike was it. If she could feel this way in his body while fucking her own body, imagine what it would feel like from the other side.

Buffy flipped them, Spike finding Buffy’s body pinned beneath his own, his cock relentlessly thrusting in and out of her core.

“Spike!” she growled, coming ever closer to release.

Spike reached out a petite hand and attempted to get to her clit, seeking further stimulation, but Buffy slapped it gently away, instead rubbing her clit with Spike’s fingers roughly, trying to get him off before herself for a change.

One little pinch and Spike started to shout out his completion, only to have Buffy muffle his howl, with his lips. She came only seconds later as her inner walls milked his cock.

“Buffy? Spike?” came her mother’s voice from down stairs. “Are you two up yet? The gang will be here in 20mins to switch you back!”

Buffy looked down at her body, Spike’s softening cock still nestled inside her body. “Shower, new clothes. Now,” she half ordered, half tried to convince herself.

Now was not the time for afterglow.

Grabbing two bathrobes from her closet, Buffy rushed her body and Spike’s into the bathroom for a very quick shower.
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Buffy in Spike’s body and Spike in Buffy’s body finally made their way down the stairs half an hour later, Buffy’s hair, just not doing what Spike wanted to do with it.

They were faced with what seemed like the Spanish inquisition, Scooby style. Around the dinning room table, sat Giles, Willow, Anya, Xander, Cordelia, Wesley, and Angel. Joyce was serving waffles and blood.

“Wow, everyone is in my dining room,” muttered Buffy, accepting the glass of blood her mother was passing to her.

Spike sat down at the only free chair at the table.

“How are you feeling Spike?” asked Joyce with concern.

“About ready to get back into my own body. How’s that comin’?” Spike asked, shovelling waffles into Buffy’s mouth.

“Hey! Take it easy! I don’t want an upset tummy when I go back into that body!” protested the slayer.

“Is anyone else freaked out by this?” asked Cordelia out of the blue.

“Used to it; it was freakier yesterday,” observed Xander through a mouthful of waffle.

“Your table manners are still horrible, Xander Harris. I can’t believe I dated you!”

This earned Cordelia a pointed glare from Anya.

“Back to the matter at hand,” interjected Giles, taking command of the conversation. “Wesley, here, has been able to discover why our spell failed.”

“It was quite simple really. A common error. The tenses of the verbs were mixed up, resulting in spell that switched not only the participants of the original spell but also the makers of the katra,” continued Wesley.

“Verb tenses?” asked Buffy, Spike's scarred eyebrow raised.

“Yes, well, no sense in dwelling on past mistakes,” Giles declared as he stood up from the table. “Shall we switch them back?”
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Joyce, Angel, Cordelia, and Xander found themselves sitting on the couch waiting for the unswitching to take place.

Apparently the verb tense mix up was not the only mistake Giles had made. Willow, Anya, Wesley, and Giles stood in a circle around Spike and Buffy this time, still passing around some metal talisman that had been cluttering up Giles’ stash of talismans.

Buffy tried to keep track of where the things was being passed, but it was making her dizzy. Spike grabbed his hand to steady her against the very clear wave of dizzy that she was experiencing.

Finally the chanting stopped, and Wesley handed Spike’s body the talisman, wrapped up in a handkerchief. Buffy pulled Spike’s hand away from hers and unwrapped the magical piece of metal, his eyes never leaving her own. She placed the talisman in Spike’s hand, and offered the hand to her body, palm up, a slight smile gracing her face.

Tentatively, Spike reached forward with Buffy’s hand and clasped his own hand, the talisman trapped between the two.

The living room of 1630 Revello Drive was suddenly filled with a bight light and Buffy and Spike collapsed on the ground.
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Buffy didn’t know how she got back into her bed, but she was grateful that she was. She looked over the side of the bed, to find that who ever had put her to bed had provided her with a barf bucket too. ‘Cause she seriously felt the need to use it right about now.

She didn’t remember much about what happened after the bright light. It must have gone right though, cause this was the way she felt when they had first switched. There was no way feeling this horrible was the result of the spell not working.

Buffy rolled over in her bed, the covers rustling above her, and reached out on the other side, expecting to find her erstwhile bed companion. Her hand met with cold air.

Nausea was nothing compared to the sense of panic that radiated through her body at Spike’s unknown location. She sat up suddenly and pushed down the overwhelming urge to yak all over the bed sheets as she struggled to make her legs work. Using slayer resolve, not to yak on said sheets, Buffy threw open the door to her room and stumbled down stairs, looking for anyone who could tell her where Spike was.

“Buffy?” asked her mom peering around the doorway from the kitchen. “What are you doing up? I thought you’d be out for the rest of the day?”

“Spike?” Buffy asked, gulping, trying to make her too dry throat function and ignoring the queasy feeling in her tummy.

“He’s in the basement, dear, out of the sun.”

Buffy headed to the basement door and wretched it open, once again finding that stairs were not really working for her today. At the bottom of the stairs, Buffy paused. Her mom was telling the truth. Spike was asleep on the cot in the basement, barf bucket beside him.

Quietly, she crawled in beside him and fell back asleep.
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tbc...


One more chapter!