Bodyswitch [For the Chairman of the Boring]

[chose]

He wasn't alone.

It was the first time, in a long time. So long, he couldn't even bring himself to count. What was more disturbing, though, had to be the very solid, very male body he happened to be pressed against, warm and very much human, and the fact that the body -- the smell of it and the warm, solid hand resting at the small of his back

Comments

[todoright]

The sound of Buffy's voice was loud enough to wake him up, eyes scrunching together as he pulls himself out of sleep mode. He's about to say something to Buffy, to smile at her and tell her that she's up early and that yes, her hair looks fine even before she can say the words. But the phrase that comes out of her mouth is less than happy, and her expression is...wrong. Angel sits up immediately, confusion registering on his face.

"What? What's wrong?"

[chose]

"Oh God. Don't you dare turn those soulful, cow-eyes at me, unless you want me to heave," Spike winced, smacking away the sudden rush of acid taste in the back of his mouth, and the even more disturbing girlish flutter behind his breastbone.

Looking down at himself, at the matching shorts and well worn t-shirt, Spike lifted the sheet enough to catch a glimpse of long, tanned legs and Angel's clothed legs stretched out alongside. "You're in bed with The Slayer, and you're wearing pajamas? Could you be any more of a eunuch?"

[todoright]

Buffy (or, whoever was in Buffy's body) had referred to her as 'The Slayer', the term used by a variety of vampires and demons, and...Spike. He wasn't sure how many people Buffy had told of her real identity, but the language and the causticness all pointed to Spike. Grabbing his shirt and slipping it on, he slides out of the bed to cross his arms against his chest. "I'm not a eunuch, Spike. And I don't see how that's any of your business. What the hell is going on here?"

[chose]

"How the bloody hell should I know?" he yelped, indignant at it even being implied he'd be responsible for something like this. Which was ridiculous, of course. This was exactly the sort of thing he'd be responsible for, if he'd had the means.

"Woke up like this, didn't I? I'm the innocent victim, here. You're standing here all right as rain, I should be asking you that question," Spike accused, standing up on his knees on the mattress so that they were (almost) eye to eye and jabbing at the center of Angel's chest with one delicately tapered finger.