FIC - Once is Chance (BtVS)
Title: Once is Chance
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: pre-S/X
Prompt: 142 - Flummox
Warnings: Cross-dressing
Rating: PG
Word Count: 720
Series
Summary: Sometimes, being a Slayerette is really hard on the man-ego.
Spike was really very thankful that he didn’t have enough blood to blush right now. From old memories, he knew that he could flush from his cheeks straight down to his navel, and he was showing far too much skin to let that mortiying little tidbit remain secret. Not that much else was secret right now. Or sacred.
“Rupert,” Spike said, trying not to snap the Slayer’s tiny, giggling neck. The Watcher ushered her out of the room before anything escalated. There was a bloke who’d been in his situation. Rupes hadn’t even pretended at a bit of shock like he normally did around these children. Red was utterly flummoxed, mouth slowly dropping by the minute.
“You need more hair to finish the look,” Anya said. There was a long look, up and down then very slowly up again, and Spike felt vaguely dirty in a way he’d not really experienced. Ever. “I’ve got a lovely chestnut blond to go with your summer colors.” And she was gone, brushing passed Xander as he ambled into Rupert’s house. Late. Bloody little bastard with his impeccable timing.
“Hey Wills.” Xander ruffed his hands through his hair, hoping he wasn't scattering sawdust everywhere. “Where’s Anya off to in such a hurry?” He lifted his head and blinked at the pretty girl fidgeting in the opposite doorway. His mouth wanted to ask if Willow had brought one of her witchy friends for a consult, but everything seemed to pause for just a second. Then the delicate, pale face of stunned insecurity snapped into a far too familiar scowl, complete with slightly glowing eyes. “Spike.”
His voice was a bit strangled, but he supposed he could be excused. Spike was, after all, in a dress. Not just any dress, but a well-fitted empire waist with gentle, flowing A-line skirt that made him seem to have just a hint of all the right curves, and Xander hadn’t quite recognized the blond curls falling into those shocking blue eyes. Not like he’d never noticed Spike had blue eyes, but Spike had blue eyes. Eyes lighter than the chartres blue, and Xander had really been around girls for way too long. Though, it looked like Spike, having doted on Drusilla for a century, had just given up and joined the girls.
“You look good,” and there went the momentary censor on his mouth. “Not that you didn’t look good before,” he hurried on at Spike’s very believable threatening growl, “because you were always with the blue eyes and tight body.” Willow’s big eyes slowly tore away from the sight of a prettily pissed off Spike to a blushing, babbling Xander. He lifted his hands and took a step back as Spike stepped forward. “You’re a great visual for androgynous beauty, what with sculpted bones and lean muscles and appealing curls.”
Xander’s finger made a little spin in the air like he wanted to twirl a curl himself, and the blush got deeper. Spike could smell the pheromones from the boy, but he could also smell the faint bitterness of fear. This was one Slayerette that had never been afraid of Spike, not even once in the many times the vamp literally held the boy’s life in his undead hands. And now, fear and arousal chased through his blood. Not unlike how the boy tended to smell around the Slayers or the ex-demon. Or even the witches, at rare times. Spike took another step closer, the soft knit brushing just above his knees. He hadn’t realized that his thighs could be so bleeding sensitive before this little venture. Not that Dru hadn’t dressed him up before, but the older styles she preferred were drastically different than this, where he felt half naked in front of a bunch of school children.
“Get out,” Spike snarled, his eyes daring Harris to keep going. Boy’s body froze for a long moment, dark eyes bouncing slightly like he refused to let himself look down, before he turned and calmly walked right back out of the house.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be your date?” Willow asked, voice a bit dazed. She kept staring at the door, and Spike hissed and stomped back to the bathroom to put on the collection of straps the girls claimed were shoes. It was official: Spike hated Anflr demons.
~JJ~
x-posted tamingthemuse
Fandom: BtVS
Pairing: pre-S/X
Prompt: 142 - Flummox
Warnings: Cross-dressing
Rating: PG
Word Count: 720
Series
Summary: Sometimes, being a Slayerette is really hard on the man-ego.
Spike was really very thankful that he didn’t have enough blood to blush right now. From old memories, he knew that he could flush from his cheeks straight down to his navel, and he was showing far too much skin to let that mortiying little tidbit remain secret. Not that much else was secret right now. Or sacred.
“Rupert,” Spike said, trying not to snap the Slayer’s tiny, giggling neck. The Watcher ushered her out of the room before anything escalated. There was a bloke who’d been in his situation. Rupes hadn’t even pretended at a bit of shock like he normally did around these children. Red was utterly flummoxed, mouth slowly dropping by the minute.
“You need more hair to finish the look,” Anya said. There was a long look, up and down then very slowly up again, and Spike felt vaguely dirty in a way he’d not really experienced. Ever. “I’ve got a lovely chestnut blond to go with your summer colors.” And she was gone, brushing passed Xander as he ambled into Rupert’s house. Late. Bloody little bastard with his impeccable timing.
“Hey Wills.” Xander ruffed his hands through his hair, hoping he wasn't scattering sawdust everywhere. “Where’s Anya off to in such a hurry?” He lifted his head and blinked at the pretty girl fidgeting in the opposite doorway. His mouth wanted to ask if Willow had brought one of her witchy friends for a consult, but everything seemed to pause for just a second. Then the delicate, pale face of stunned insecurity snapped into a far too familiar scowl, complete with slightly glowing eyes. “Spike.”
His voice was a bit strangled, but he supposed he could be excused. Spike was, after all, in a dress. Not just any dress, but a well-fitted empire waist with gentle, flowing A-line skirt that made him seem to have just a hint of all the right curves, and Xander hadn’t quite recognized the blond curls falling into those shocking blue eyes. Not like he’d never noticed Spike had blue eyes, but Spike had blue eyes. Eyes lighter than the chartres blue, and Xander had really been around girls for way too long. Though, it looked like Spike, having doted on Drusilla for a century, had just given up and joined the girls.
“You look good,” and there went the momentary censor on his mouth. “Not that you didn’t look good before,” he hurried on at Spike’s very believable threatening growl, “because you were always with the blue eyes and tight body.” Willow’s big eyes slowly tore away from the sight of a prettily pissed off Spike to a blushing, babbling Xander. He lifted his hands and took a step back as Spike stepped forward. “You’re a great visual for androgynous beauty, what with sculpted bones and lean muscles and appealing curls.”
Xander’s finger made a little spin in the air like he wanted to twirl a curl himself, and the blush got deeper. Spike could smell the pheromones from the boy, but he could also smell the faint bitterness of fear. This was one Slayerette that had never been afraid of Spike, not even once in the many times the vamp literally held the boy’s life in his undead hands. And now, fear and arousal chased through his blood. Not unlike how the boy tended to smell around the Slayers or the ex-demon. Or even the witches, at rare times. Spike took another step closer, the soft knit brushing just above his knees. He hadn’t realized that his thighs could be so bleeding sensitive before this little venture. Not that Dru hadn’t dressed him up before, but the older styles she preferred were drastically different than this, where he felt half naked in front of a bunch of school children.
“Get out,” Spike snarled, his eyes daring Harris to keep going. Boy’s body froze for a long moment, dark eyes bouncing slightly like he refused to let himself look down, before he turned and calmly walked right back out of the house.
“Wasn’t he supposed to be your date?” Willow asked, voice a bit dazed. She kept staring at the door, and Spike hissed and stomped back to the bathroom to put on the collection of straps the girls claimed were shoes. It was official: Spike hated Anflr demons.
~JJ~
x-posted tamingthemuse