Spike awoke to the lovely sensation of warmth pressed against his
chest once again. The faint rumble of his subconscious purring echoed
off of the marble walls of his crypt and he allowed himself to
indulge in a few more minutes of cuddling against Xander's living
body. Her *warm* living body. He tucked his head a bit and nuzzled
his sensitive nose into the back of her neck, her dark soft curls
brushing his skin, and breathed in deeply. She smelled as wonderful
as she felt.
Spike was seriously considering going back to sleep again when she
began to wake up. He could hear her heartbeat speed up and her
breathing hitched slightly and her muscles tensed up. But she didn't
move. She didn't try to escape his embrace. She didn't moan or sigh
or speak.
She never did.
Not anymore. Not since Anya's curse. Not since her ex-girlfriend was
turned back into a demon. A demon who then cursed him by turning him
into a woman and then killed off her parents and crippled her closest
friends. A demon who had then placed the transformed young woman into
the care of, a now chipless, Spike.
The first night she had asked 'why' and Spike didn't have an answer
to that. He didn't think he ever would. He could sort of understand
what Anya had done to the Slayer and her friends, he could *really*
understand why she had killed the whelps parents, but he didn't
understand any of what she did to Xander. Why turn a nineteen year
old boy into a woman? Spike never could understand Anya's feminist
vengeance logic, in any case, and he wasn't going to start now.
Spike didn't think Xander's silence had anything to do with his lack
of answers to difficult philosophical questions however. Spike
figured it was more of a case of not speaking to prevent a whole
floodgate of paranoid hysteria from emerging. It had been a full week
since Anya's visit and Xander had only said two things during that
time. Yes Spike and No Spike. That was it.
She never volunteered any thoughts or feelings. Nothing. No opinions
were shared and there was no ranting and raving while pacing the
crypt. Nothing. Just this dazed and hurt silence. No arguing and no
jokes. No sarcastic wit and no bantering. Just this quiet desperation
and inner horror. It was almost deafening in it's own frightening way.
Spike sighed sadly. Maybe tonight would be the night when Xander
finally crawled out from the mental walls she'd built to hide behind.
Maybe tonight would be the night that she spoke, or smiled, or cried,
or screamed,... or anything.
Holding onto his optimism tightly with both hands, Spike gently
pulled away from his mortal charge and slowly sat up. Reaching down
with one hand, he rubbed small soothing circles against Xander's T-
shirt clad back. The young woman shifted slightly, but didn't speak
or make any indication that she knew who he was or where they were at.
"G' evening pet. How are you feeling this lovely night?"
Spike paused and waited a quick moment for a response that never came.
"I'm a bit hungry myself. What say we go hunt up a quick meal for
myself. We'll take whatever money we find in it's pockets and go off
to that diner outside of town that you fancy. We'll get you a
sandwich and a milkshake if you like. Sound like a plan?"
Xander didn't answer him, nor did she even turn her head to look at
him. She just lay there and let him rub her back. Finally, after
waiting a moment or two in the heavy silence, Spike sighed and his
shoulders slumped slightly in defeat. Turning, he swung his jean clad
legs out from under the new heavy blankets that he'd gotten to help
keep Xander warm during their daytime sleep. Sliding off of the tomb,
Spike walked over to his lounge chair and sat down. He quickly pulled
on his Doc's and then turned to find Xander some clothes for the day.
After Anya had turned Xander into a female, the demonness had burned
down Xander's house, killing his parents and, coincidentally,
destroying all of her former beau's possessions. Since all of the
things that Anya had owned in her mortal incarnation had been stored
in his crypt, he simply dressed the newborn woman in her ex-
girlfriend's clothing. It was ironic and probably a bit cruel, but he
simply didn't *have* any other clothing to offer her. As it was,
Xander only fit in half of Anya's things anyway. And even then it was
a tight fit. Xander was taller and had more bulk than Anya did. She
had bigger breasts and wider hips and her thighs were more muscular
than Anya's. But Spike didn't care, Xander was beautiful, even if she
didn't have clue one about that fact.
After routing through some boxes, Spike finally found a pair of black
capri length leggings and a crimson knit top that looked like they
would fit. Sorting through the clothes to find Xander an outfit
always made him remember the times that Dru had forced him to play
with her and her dolls. With a wry smile, he wondered if he'd ever
figure out if those were good memories or bad ones. Whichever, they
*weren't* ones to share with the guys down at Willy's Bar. Clothing
in hand, he turned to see Xander still lying across the blanket
strewn tomb, dark haunted eyes staring sightlessly ahead of her.
"Come on pet. Time to sit up and get dressed now."
"Yes Spike."
Moving with slow languid movements, Xander sat up and continued to
stare at the wall. She made no move to get off of the tomb turned
bed, nor to remove her sleep clothes. Spike walked over and sat the
outfit in his hands next to her and then gently grabbed the bottom
edge of the T-shirt she was wearing.
"Arms up."
Xander dutifully lifted her arms into the air and Spike was able to
pull the T-shirt up and off. He allowed himself a good long look at
her lovely new attributes. He reached out and ran one fingertip along
the soft skin of her throat down over her collarbone and along the
swell of her ripe breast. She shivered, but her eyes never stopped
staring off into space, nor did she flinch away. Spike sighed.
He picked up the red top and gently maneuvered it over her head and
threaded her arms through the holes. A few quick tugs and it was in
place. Moving slowly, Spike took hold of her hands and gave a slight
pull.
"Upsey-daisey."
Unresisting, Xander slid off the edge of the tomb and stood up before
Spike. Letting go of her hands with a quick squeeze, Spike dropped to
his knees in front of her. Trying to be calm and soothing so as not
to frighten her, Spike slowly reached out and took hold of the waist
band of the sweat pants she was wearing. Gently, he pulled them down
until they rested around her ankles.
"Step out pet."
Silently, Xander stepped out of the puddle of material at her feet.
Then, Spike went back and pulled down the skimpy underwear that Anya
had favored. Spike had heard of thong bikinis and they looked
uncomfortable to him when he had first pulled them out of Anya's
things, but he'd never truly appreciated them until he had put a pair
on Xander. The sight of the young woman wearing nothing but a shiny
red thong and the dark spill of black curls over one breast had
inspired lots of wonderfully naughty thoughts in his brain. If Spike
had his way, she'd never wear any other type of undergarments.
Leaning forward slightly so that Xander could step out of the
underwear as well, Spike got a good look at her virgin womanhood. It
was as lovely as the rest of her and she smelled amazing. He could
feel himself grow hard beneath his jeans. He breathed in deeply and
her warm earthy scent filled his senses. He close his eyes and
allowed himself to drift in the fantasy of throwing her down to the
ground and burying his face between her pale thighs and tasting the
sweetness he knew lay hidden within her.
A low purring noise echoed in his ears and jolted him from his
daydream. He found that it was he who was purring and that he had the
side of his face pressed tightly against Xander's hip and that he was
nuzzling his nose into the warm flesh of her belly right above the
soft tuft of dark curls between her legs.
Abruptly he pulled himself away and shook his head to clear his mind.
It was only then that it occurred to him that Xander hadn't reacted
to it at all. She didn't push him away or cringe at his touch, nor
did she encourage him to do more. Either way, it was...
disconcerting. Pushing the dark feeling of foreboding away, Spike
grabbed the fresh pair of thong underwear and held it out near
Xander's feet.
"Come on pet. Step in."
A soft warm hand grabbed his shoulder for balance and then she
stepped, first one foot and then the other, inside. Gently, he pulled
them up and then spent a minute or two adjusting them so that they
were positioned correctly. Then, he repeated the process with the
leggings. Spike sat her back down on the tomb so he could put on a
pair of short ankle socks and then the sneakers he had stolen for her.
Completely dressed, he stood her back up and stepped back to look her
over. She was lovely. Soft round curves and long lean lines. Liquid
dark eyes and long midnight curls. Pale skin and delicious warm
scent. All that was missing was the spark of life and vitality that
he had come to associate with Xander. The female version was
prettier, cuddlier, and smelled better. The male version had had the
stones to tell him off to his face, even *before* the chip. Oddly
enough, he missed the old Xander.
With a sigh and the dimming hope that tonight would be the night that
Xander once again became interested in *living*, he lightly took hold
of her hand and led her out into the cemetery and towards the lights
of Sunnydale.
******
Another two weeks had come and gone. The effects of Anya's spell
hadn't worn off and Spike didn't think that it ever would. Xander was
still completely unresponsive and Spike was getting very worried.
What's more, her scent had begun to change over the day while they
slept. He knew from years of experience with extremely heightened
senses that she would be entering her moon phase soon. Spike wasn't
sure *how* Xander would react to monthly bleeding. If she reacted at
all. In either case, Spike had *no* idea of what to do about it. He
had no experience with it... and neither did Xander. They needed
help. Fast.
With that in mind, Spike sat Xander down on a park bench and walked
over to the payphone ten feet away. He dropped in some coins and
dialed a number he knew by heart.
"Angel Investigations! We help the hopeless."
Spike winced at the forced cheerfulness.
"'ello luv. This is Spike. Let me talk to the bloody Poof, would'ja?"
With a violent jerk, Spike yanked the phone away from his ear and
glared at it. After a full moment of silently cursing in a variety of
languages, he put it back to the side of his head.
"Listen wench. I don't rightly care *what* you've heard about what's
been going on down here. I need to speak to me Sire! *NOW*!"
Spike frowned at the pitiful excuse for music that flooded the phone
line suddenly. He rolled his eyes. If he'd told the mincing pounce
once, he'd told him a thousand bloody times to get rid of that crap.
He should put on some good old British Rock and Roll. Hell, even
American Jazz would do. Anything but that modernized Chamber Music
shit. Then just as suddenly, it was gone.
"What? No!"
"That's not what..."
"No, if you'd just..."
"Dammit all to bloody hell Angelus! Shut. Up. And. Let. Me. Talk."
He paused a moment.
"Jesus Christ eating pop-tarts! I don't know what that idiot Slayer
told you, but if you'd give me a moment *I'll* tell you the truth. I
*was* there after all."
Spike snorted.
"I do *too* know how to tell the truth you tosser."
"Fine! I didn't want your help anyway. I'll deal with it by my bloody
self!"
Spike almost hung up the phone when his preternatural hearing heard
Angel shout at him to just *tell* him what it was already and stop
being overly dramatic. He gritted his teeth and reminded himself that
this was for Xander. He could suck it up and deal with his soul
having Sire for Xander's sake. With a sigh he brought the phone back
to his ear.
"Look. It was like this. Anya got her power source back. I *don't*
know how or why. But she came back and handed out some vengeance.
It's what she *is* and it's what she *does*."
Spike gasped and felt himself go pale.
"What!?!? NO! It is *not* Xander's fault. She did *not* ask Anya to
punish Buffy, Willow *or* Giles. Anya did that all on her own.
Granted, Anya did it because she didn't think they had been very good
friends to Xander and I agree with her on that one-hundred percent,
but she did *not* tell Anya to do *anything* to those idiots. That
was *Anya's* choice. The same goes for Xander's parents. Xander
didn't ask Anya to kill them, even if they did deserve it. That was
all Anya's idea too. In fact, Xander was the one who got the worst of
Anya's wrath. *She* is the one suffering the most."
Spike listened to his Sire and he became more and more confused.
"What do you mean, she who? Xander of course."
Suddenly Spike understood the source of Angel's misunderstanding.
"Oh bloody hell. Bitchy didn't even tell you, did she?"
Spike snorted in annoyed irony.
"The little Slayer was too busy complaining about herself and Willow
and that wanker of a Watcher that she didn't even *think* to tell you
what Anya did to her own ex-boyfriend. After all, Xander's not
important enough to her... of course, *that's* why Anya did what she
did to Buffy in the first place, but I bet the Slayer didn't tell you
*that* either."
"Huh? Oh, it's simple really. Anya turned Xander into a woman."
Spike yanked the phone away from his ear at his Sire's startled
shout. Grinning cruelly, he hoped that this would *finally* make the
soulful pouf realize that the great and wonderful Buffy was little
more than a self-centered brat who was too wrapped up in her own head
to *truly* care about others.
"That's right mate. A woman. One-hundred percent female. Anya injured
Xander's friends and turned them against her, she killed off her
parents and turned her world inside out by switching her *gender* in
the blink of an eye. Your precious Buffy may be pissed off at the
loss of her hearing, but Xander is in a semi-catatonic state over the
total destruction of her entire world. So, please forgive me if I
give two shits about the blonde menace to demon-kind right now. I've
got bigger problems."
"What? Oh, Anya made me promise to protect Xander and I for one don't
want a pissed off Vengeance Demon after *my* undead behind. So... I
find myself wondering what in the bloody hell to do with her. She
won't eat or dress or anything that I don't do for her. She doesn't
talk or laugh or cry. She just stares off into space. What's more...
I have *no* idea how to teach her how to be a woman and I don't think
she just somehow knows either."
Spike sighed. This was the hard part. If Angel said no or if it
didn't work, then Spike had no idea what else to try.
"Look Angelus. I... I want to bring Xander up to LA for a bit. I was
thinking that maybe the Cheerleader could help out. You know... teach
Xander... um, girl stuff. Not to mention that it might help her get
her head back together if she had something to actually *do* besides
living in my crypt with me and trying to steal enough money to eat."
Spike couldn't contain his grin when Angel started to speak again. He
almost sagged in relief and hope surged through him once again.
"Yeah that would be great. We'll pack up tonight and then head out
tomorrow as soon as the sun goes down. Thanks Peaches."
With a final smirk at the phone, Spike hung up with his Sire and
turned to walk back over to the lovely young woman sitting on the
park bench with a lost and lonely expression etched on her face
******
The next night saw them on the road to LA in Spike's Desoto. Xander
sat silently besides him, resigned to her fate. Now, more than ever,
Spike was certain that this move was a good idea. He had debated with
himself over whether to tell Xander where they were headed or if he
should just leave it a surprise. In the end, he had told her. And
he'd earned his very first reaction since this whole nightmare had
begun.
They had been packing up the last of the stuff into the practically
overflowing trunk of the Desoto at the time. He'd turned to watch the
smooth, almost blank expression on her pale soft face. Those dark
empty eyes haunted him and hurt him in a way that he didn't quite
understand. Finally just needing to fill the painful silence, he'd
told her.
"Xander, pet. I... um, I talked to Angel the other night and well,
that's where we're headed to. We'll go and stay with my Sire for a
while... just until we can get a better place than this."
He'd stopped talking and turned to study her face once more. Emotions
flickered across her features, one after the other. Relief. Joy.
Confusion. Fear. Then she spoke.
"I... I..."
He'd nearly bit through his own tongue in shock. When it seemed as if
Xander was going to shut down again, he'd dropped the box he'd been
holding and gently grasped her hands.
"What pet? Tell me. Please."
He could see emotions rise up in her dark eyes again and he held a
breath he didn't need.
"I... Angel hates me."
Spike winced mentally and made a promise to himself to talk to the
wanker about being all gloomy and brooding around Xander. On the
outside he smiled gently and shook his head slowly.
"No, luv, no. Peaches doesn't hate you. Not at all. Hell, he don't
even hate *me* and I've done worse things to him than anyone else,
well, besides Darla herself."
Xander's dark eyes had locked onto his own and they had been filled
with emotions and thoughts. The young woman was truly and intently
*focused* on what was happening outside of her own head for the first
time since he'd found her curled up on top of his tomb. Spike was
beyond thrilled, even if it was insecurity and vulnerability that she
was showing. It was a start.
"Spike?... Don't... Don't leave me there alone."
For a second, his throat became painfully tight and he had to swallow
past a suddenly thick lump. He gently squeezed her hands and began to
rub soothing circles along the backs of her wrists with his thumbs.
"No pet. I won't leave you. Ever."
A ghost of a smile flitted across her face.
"Okay Spike."
And then, to his vast sorrow, all expression had melted away again
and that blank stare that he had grown to hate had returned. Silent
once more, she had gone back inside her own head, only doing what he
asked. Nothing more and nothing less.
But that was okay. Spike kept telling himself that. Xander had woken
up from her internal nightmare, even if only for a few minutes, and
had spoken to him. That was a start. Right? Hopefully the constant
exposure to Angel, Wesley and Cordelia would help pull her out more
and more. And living in a real home as opposed to a crypt should help
as well. Right?
Full of a sense of hope once more, Spike turned down the music a bit
and began on another of his monologues to fill the silence as they
sped through the night to their destination.
END
