Through Another Girl's Eyes

Spike took a swig from his beer as he glanced around the Bronze. The club was relatively packed that evening and the music pounding from the stereo system was good enough to have a majority of the patrons out on the dance floor. Normally, he would be enjoying the sight of all the young flesh writhing out on the floor, listening to their blood racing in their veins, the scents of sweat and arousal filling the air, drawing him and every other vampire in the vicinity into the hunt.

Tonight, however, it was only depressing him. It was reminding him that, no matter how much he wanted to be part of the hunt, he couldn't participate.

Soddin' chip, he thought, taking another long swig of his beer. As soon as he could get it removed, each and every mortal in the Bronze was going to be shagged or eaten or both.

"And bugger whatever the Slayer says," Spike muttered to himself, scratching at the label on the bottle with his thumbnail. "She'll be munched right along with the others, especially that bloody soldier schmuck."

Buffy had told Spike the night before that she was planning on patrolling then going to see Riley, leaving him alone for the night. Why she insisted on still dating that nonce was beyond his grasp. Spike wished that Adam -- the bad guy of the week -- had skewered the boy just a little bit higher. But no, Cornboy was alive and kicking, and Buffy had appointed herself a Candy Striper.

Spike was okay with her casual dating of other mortals. It wasn't as if he was in love with her or anything. If she wanted to find hearts and flowers, more the reason to keep his gob shut over whom she dates. He was only interested in shagging her and fighting by her side.

He pursed his lips as he thought back to a couple of weeks ago when he'd painfully learned his extracurricular activities weren't earning him any points in the demon community. In his book, violence was violence. If he was killing something, he was happy, even if he ended up being on the white hats team. The other demons didn't have the same views, as he'd found out when the fists started flying.

That was another reason he was at the Bronze having a beer. He was no longer welcome at any of the vampire or demon establishments. He knew he could hold his own against several opponents, as long as he wasn't sucker-punched again, but it wasn't worth the hassle. Beer and blood were available other places, and he could always score points with his fuckmate if he helped protect the yokels.

Spike started across the club, aiming for the couches set up in a small alcove. He hadn't seen any of the Slayer's flunkies as of yet, but they usually ended up at the Bronze. He knew he could count on them for a bit of distraction, especially the witch. The redhead was so fun to goad.

"Whoop."

Someone bumped into Spike and, as he went to growl at the person, he was shocked to find himself facing the Slayer. The scent radiating from her was hot and heavy, from her own arousal and that of several males -- none of which was the unmistakable scent of the nonce from Iowa. Had Buffy lied to him?

"Oh, you," he said, his feelings churning in anger, confusion... and jealousy?

"And you," Buffy said, almost carelessly.

Spike went on the offensive, like he always did, to hide the tumultuous emotions swirling inside of him. "What, are you keeping tabs on me? You're gonna give me a hard time now?"

Buffy frowned slightly at him. "Um, do I usually give you a hard time?"

"Very funny," Spike said wryly. "Well, you don't have to worry about me drinking," he lifted his bottle of beer and gave her a sardonic smile, "unless you're here to protect innocent beers."

"You're a vampire," Buffy said.

Spike narrowed his eyes at her. What was her game? "Was," he corrected, and was immediately disgusted by the bitterness in his voice. Anger at his situation colored his speech as he continued. "And as soon as I get this chip out of my head, I'll be a vampire again. But until then, I'm just as helpless as a kitten up a tree. So why don't you sod off?"

Buffy shrugged. "Ok," she said, then turned to walk away from him.

The anger Spike was feeling spiked with her attitude. He'd thought she actually had some compassion for him. "Oh, fine! Throw it in my face! Spike's not a threat anymore. I'll turn my back. He can't hurt me."

"Spike?" Buffy turned around and looked at him for a moment, then a smile crossed her face. "Spike. William the Bloody with a chip in his head. I kind of love this town."

Spike glared angrily at her. "You know why I really hate you, Summers?"

"'Cause I'm a stuck-up tight-ass with no sense of fun?"

Spike blinked in surprise in how she answered, knocking him out of the black tornado of anger he'd been feeling. "Well, yeah, that covers a lot of it."

Buffy started walking towards him, her hips swaying back and forth in a way guaranteed to make him look. "Cause I could do anything I want, and instead, I choose to pout and whine and feel the burden of slayerness?" she continued. "I mean, I could be rich, I could be famous, I could have anything. Anyone."

She put her hand on his chest, her fingers caressing him through the black tee. "Even you, Spike," she said, her voice dipping down to a wicked level, causing his eyes to focus on her lips. "I could ride you at a gallop until your legs buckled and your eyes rolled up. I've got muscles you've never even dreamed of. I could squeeze you until you popped like warm champagne, and you'd beg me to hurt you just a little bit more."

Spike couldn't believe she was talking so explicitly dirty to him. He couldn't take his eyes off her her mouth. He cock swelled so much he could hear his zipper breaking from the pressure. He wanted to push her hard against the metal column and fuck her right there, sod the others in the Bronze.

"And you know why I don't?" Buffy asked him. She licked her lips, raised up slightly on her toes and looked at him straight in the eyes. "Because it's wrong."

Spike was slammed out of his arousal with brute force and it wasn't from her words. He stared after her as she walked away from him with something akin to horror.

That hadn't been his Slayer looking at him through her hazel eyes. That had been someone else.

The blond vampire practically flew all the way to Giles's house, he was running so fast. He burst into the ex-Watcher's home without knocking. "Giles! We have a bloody huge problem!"

Giles turned to Spike, exposing a dark-haired girl he'd been speaking with. Her large, brown eyes met Spike's and, for the second time in less than twenty minutes, the vampire was shocked. He opened his mouth, then snapped it shut and crossed to the girl in four rapid steps.

Spike pulled her into an abrupt, fierce hug, then released her only enough to look down at the unfamiliar face. "Soddin' hell, Slayer, what's going on? There's some chit at the Bronze wearing your skin and you're wearing someone else's!"

"You know it's me?" Buffy said in a trembling, amazed voice.

"You know that's Buffy?" Giles asked at the same time.

Spike released the taller girl completely and turned so he could speak with both of them. "Yes, I know it's Buffy. What I don't know is why the bloody hell she's suddenly taller, more built and a non-dyed brunette."

Buffy stared at Spike, stunned at the fact that he knew immediately it was her. Giles couldn't tell without playing Twenty Questions, even though she'd been able to tell who he was by looking into his eyes when Ethan had turned him into a demon. She had thought her mentor would have been able to do the same with her, but he hadn't -- Spike had.

"It-it seems that Faith switched bodies with Buffy," Giles explained to Spike.

"And why would she do that?" Spike asked.

"Revenge," Buffy replied, snapping out of her amazement. She'd think about the odd feelings bubbling inside of her because of Spike later, after she dealt with her body-swapping problem.

Spike looked at the brunette and frowned. "For what? That body you're in smells human."

"Faith is human," Giles said. "Psychotic, but human."

"Do you remember hearing anything about a Slayer batting for the other team, Spike?" Buffy asked the vampire. "It was around this time last year? She played daughter to Mayor Wilkins the Ascension-happy moron who got his ass kicked by moi?"

Spike nodded. "I heard about that, but I also heard she was in a coma or something."

"She was. I put her in one," Buffy said. "But she's awake now."

"You put her in one?" Spike arched his brow at her. "Another human?"

"There are exceptions for evil Slayers who poison your lover," Buffy said bluntly.

"You mean, the poof..." Spike trailed off at her unblinking stare. Brown eyes or hazel, there was no way the girl in front of him was anyone but his Buffy. "Right."

"Well, I guess we'd best start," Giles said, breaking into the heavy silence that descended. "From what you've told me, er, B-Buffy, Faith used some sort of device to trigger the soul transference?"

"Yeah," Buffy replied. "She put it on her hand, then grabbed mine. No flashy lights or anything, just poof -- I'm looking at myself."

Giles nodded and moved to his bookshelf. "We'll start with the 'non-flashy lights' researching first, then move on from there."

"Now I know I'm in trouble," Buffy said to Spike. "Giles made a joke."

Spike gave her a half-smile. "Someone warn the masses."

She laughed and Spike relaxed. If Buffy could laugh and make witty commentary, she would be fine. That's one of the things he found fascinating about her -- her unflagging spirit in the face of some bloody weird shit.

Two hours later, the blond vampire sighed and hung up the phone. "She's still not there, Giles," he told the ex-Watcher.

"Well, we'll just have to continue to make do," Giles said, not looking up from the book he was paging through. "Willow will return eventually."

Spike had always thought that the little witch and friends had some sort of evil radar that went off when things went to pot. They seemed to gather with unerring accuracy without being summoned from what he'd seen.

The blond vampire glanced down the hallway, a frown appearing between his brows. Buffy had been a long time in the WC, he thought.

Spike's feet were carrying him down the hall and around the corner before he was even aware of moving. The bathroom door was shut and he raised his hand to knock.

He was halted by the muffled sounds of crying.

Spike's frown deepened and he knocked softly. "Slayer, you okay?"

"I'm fine," came the quick answer through the door.

"Liar," Spike said to himself before he turned the doorknob.

"Spike, what are you doing?!" Buffy exclaimed, scrubbing her wet cheeks with her hands as the blond vampire entered the bathroom.

"I came to reminisce about my fun-loving times chained in the tub," he replied wryly, shutting the door behind him.

"Well, go away," she told him.

Spike shook his head. "Not until you tell me why you're hiding in the closet, crying, instead of helping to get you back into your regular trappings."

"But what if we can't find a way?" Buffy said, turning to look at herself in the mirror again. Faith's face looked back at her. "What if I'm stuck in Faith's body forever?"

"She's still a Slayer, right?" Spike said. Buffy nodded. "Then you keep on doing what you always do -- fight evil and shag me rotten."

Buffy's horrified gaze shot to his. "You want to have sex with me when I look like this?"

Spike raked his eyes over Faith's more lush curves, a purely male smile curling his lips. "You look pretty fuckable in that body, pet."

"You... you... you jerk!"

Spike raised his head and found himself looking at a furious Slayer. "What?" he asked in confusion.

"'What'?! 'What'?!" Buffy said incredulously. "It's bad enough that I'm screwing a vampire on a regular basis, but at least it's monogamous sex. I should have known that you'd stick it in anyone you can."

"What the hell are you blabberin' about, Slayer?" Spike said in total puzzlement.

"You want to have sex with me!" Buffy hissed.

"Er, yeah," Spike agreed warily. "That was the general plan."

"You.... you... pig-dog! I can't believe you want to screw Faith!" Buffy exclaimed. "She's skanky and... and slutty! And she probably has a million diseases-"

Spike stepped over to her and put his hands on her shoulders, dropping his head slightly to look straight into her eyes. "Slayer, what does Faith have to do with anything?"

"Duh," Buffy said. "Who do I look like?"

Realization as to what Buffy was going on about hit Spike. He shook his head, a smile tugging up his lips. "Pet, I don't want to shag Faith, I want to shag you."

"Not seeing much difference right now," Buffy grumbled.

"Oh, there's a huge difference, luv," Spike told her. He began to slowly slide a hand down her arm. "It doesn't matter if you're tall or short, plump or bird-like, more busty...," he cupped her breast, "...or have a perfect handful, if you're a brunette...," he gave her a wicked smile, "...or a brunette."

"Spike." Buffy blushed.

"Slayer, it's you I've been lusting after twenty-four-seven, ever since Willow's cocked up spell, not your looks," Spike said in a low, silky voice. "It's your goodness and sarcastic wit and passion and youthfulness and inner strength that I crave to touch."

He leaned closer to her, caressing her breast through the material of her shirt. "Let me touch you, sweetheart."

"Yes," Buffy breathed.

Spike captured her mouth immediately, drawing her into a deep kiss. He continued to fondle her breast, lightly pinching her nipple, eliciting a soft moan from her. Her hands slid around his waist and she untucked his shirt in the back. When her warm hands touched his bare skin in a familiar way, he hardened fully beneath his trousers.

"Ah, luv," he murmured after he dragged his lips from hers. He pushed her back against the tiled wall and began to kiss and nibble along her jaw. "Why do I want you so much?"

"Don't know, don't care, touch me," Buffy ordered, rubbing her hips forward against him.

Spike chuckled. "Bossy chit," he said, nipping at her earlobe.

"Yes, I am. Now touch me before I stake yo-ooooh," she groaned as he bent and sucked her pebbled nipple into his mouth through her shirt. "That's nice."

Spike raised the hem of her shirt up and deftly unhooked the front clasp of the black satin bra she wore. Two, full, creamy breasts greeted his vision, each graced with a dark rose areola the size of a half-dollar and tipped with the hard buds of her nipples. He leaned forward, dragged his tongue over one and was rewarded with a throaty moan of his name.

Different body, same reactions, he thought. He grabbed the stiff peak of her nipple with his blunt teeth and tugged lightly. Buffy whimpered just like he knew she would.

As Spike continued to suckle and tease her breasts, he worked on baring more of her new body. Buffy felt the cooler air on skin as the pants and panties she was wearing were pulled down to her knees. She felt herself become wet in anticipation and excitement, and when his strong fingers slid into her channel, she shuddered at the exquisite feelings he evoked.

Spike straightened and captured her mouth again, his fingers still dancing along her damp cleft, stroking her intimately. Buffy pressed her bare breasts against his shirt-covered chest, rubbing her sensitive nipples back and forth over the material. She whimpered in distress when he suddenly pulled completely away from her.

Buffy whimpered for an entirely different reason when he turned her around so she was facing the tiled wall. She heard the rasp of a zipper and the muscles in her much different body coiled with sexual tension. She felt the top of his shaft slide down between her buttocks and lower still until he was at her moist entry. Then, he buried himself inside of her with one, sure thrust, and they both inhaled sharply at the familiar pleasure that coursed through them.

Spike put his hands possessively on Buffy's more curvaceous hips and slowly began to move. He watched with a hungry passion as his turgid member appeared and vanished beneath her creamy behind, its length glistening in the harsh bathroom light from her vaginal juices. Her inner walls fluttered then grasped at him, and his eyelids fell shut because of the erotic sensation.

His pace increased until he was steadily driving into her, bringing them both closer and closer to the edge of completion. Buffy gasped with each hit of his pelvis against her backside and, when his hand slid around her body and his fingers found the aching knob of flesh between her netherlips, she let out a muffled cry as an orgasm ripped through her.

Spike's eyes rolled under his closed lids as Buffy squeezed his cock as she came. Faith had been wrong -- he knew exactly what muscles a Slayer's body had and what they could do to him. After a few more hard thrusts, a hoarse curse was torn from his throat as he dropped headlong into his own climax.

He held Buffy pressed tight against him for several long minutes as he gathered himself back together after his orgasm. He could hear Buffy panting softly and the tangy scent of sex drifted from her body to his nose. He finally slipped free from her and tucked himself away.

Buffy turned around, pulling down her shirt at the same time. She opened her mouth to say something, but Spike cut her off with a deep kiss.

"I'll let you get cleaned up, luv," Spike said quietly after he broke the kiss. He lifted his hand a brushed a dark lock of hair away from her unfamiliar face with the oh-so-familiar look in her eyes. He gave her a half-smile, then left the bathroom.

Buffy slumped back against the tiled wall when the door clicked shut behind him, her pants still around her knees. Out of the corner of her eye, she caught her reflection and turned her head. Faith's flushed face looked out of the mirror at her, but the brown eyes reflected a sparkle Buffy had never seen when Faith was in possession of her own body.

The Slayer wrinkled her nose, stuck out her tongue, then smiled. There were worse bodies she could have found herself in, Buffy thought. She lifted up her shirt again and arched both her brows in appreciation at the reflection of her new breasts in the mirror.

Buffy caught her own gaze again and laughed loudly when she realized how ridiculous she was behaving. With a shake of her dark head, she began to get cleaned up.

Spike grinned to himself when he heard the husky laughter float down the hallway to the kitchen, where he was drying his hands after having washed them in the sink. He caught the ex-Watcher's questioning look over the bar-counter in the kitchen wall and he lifted one shoulder in a shrug.

"Don't look at me, Giles," he said. "She spent the last fifteen minutes using me as a personal punching bag all because I asked her if I could have a little snack."

"You asked her if you could drink her blood?" Giles said with aplomb.

"It's not like that's her real body," Spike countered. "And Slayer's blood is the creme-de-la-creme of blood."

"Right. Well, er, at least she sounds more cheerful," Giles said. "I'd imagine it must be horrifying for her to be trapped in-in someone else's body."

"Guys, check this out," Faith's voice drifted to the two men before the dark-haired Slayer came into view. "Faith's double-jointed. This is so cool."

Spike snorted at Giles's stunned expression as Buffy stopped in front of the bar-counter and wiggled her thumbs for them. The blond vampire gave her a secretive smile when she turned her eyes to him.

"I think he's suitably impressed, ducks," Spike said. "More impressed than by my asking you to bleed a little for me before you decided I could use a good arse-kicking."

Buffy frowned in confusion at him for a second before she caught on. "Hey, this Slayer doesn't bleed for just any vampire," she told him loftily.

Giles's front door opened and Willow and Tara came rushing in. "Giles!"

"Will!" Buffy exclaimed.

"Oh, my god," Willow said, staring at Buffy.

"Willow, wait. You don't understand-"

"You're Buffy," Willow interrupted. "You and Faith switched bodies, probably through a Draconian Katra spell."

"She understands it better than I do," Giles muttered disheartedly.

"How did you know?" Buffy asked Willow.

"Tara," Willow replied. She gestured to the blond beside her. "Tara, this is Buffy, only really this time."

"Hi," Tara said shyly.

"Tara's a really powerful witch," Willow said.

"Not really," Tara said.

"No, really," Willow said emphatically. "She knew right away that you weren't you. So we connected with the nether realms to find out what happened. And we conjured this."

Willow held out a small ringbox.

"What is--" Buffy began to say, but was interrupted again.

"It's a Katra," Willow explained. "Or the home-conjured version. It-it should switch you back, if you can get a hold of Faith."

"Oh, thank god," Buffy sighed in relief. Then, she looked over at Spike and a corner of her mouth turned up before she added, "Even though, no matter what body I'm stuck in, I'm still me."

Spike winked at her and, as the phone began to ring and the conversation turned to planning on how to capture Faith, he leaned casually on the counter and watched as his Slayer shined through another girl's eyes.

End