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snoggedTitle: Identity Theft
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Willow/Spike, mentions Willow/Oz
Rating/Warnings: FRM/R; for sexual situations, angst/dark, possible emotional and traumatic themes, and body swapping
Word Count: 3237
Summary: What if, instead of switching bodies with Buffy, Faith switches bodies with Willow?
Setting: BtVS, Season 4, AU - “This Year’s Girl/Who Are You?”
Beta Crew: The lovable and amazing![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
velvetwhip. All other mistakes are mine.
Author’s Note: Written for the Which Willow Challenge 2014. Many thanks todragonydreams for running this challenge year after year. It’s definitely a favorite of mine.
Author’s Note 2: I dedicate this story in celebration of the life ofpickamix. It may seem weird, but I could feel her cheering me on from the other side as I wrote this. I wish you could be here to read this, hun. I love and miss you.
Willow still remembered Angelus.
It didn’t matter that it was years ago or that she and Angel were on good terms now. She remembered it because it was the first time since The Harvest that she had completely and unwittingly walked into a trap. But since Angel was her friend, when he had asked her to come to him, she had done so – in a dark hallway – without question. What a lesson that had been. She nearly died that night from oxygen loss, and every night after that she could feel his demon-strong fingers pressing against her windpipe whenever her breath hitched in fear.
With Faith back in the picture, Willow couldn’t escape the twitchy feeling that she could be trapped like that again. Not that Faith was ever her friend, because she wasn’t, but Faith was manipulative and tricky and mean. There were things Faith knew about Willow that would make it easy for the rogue Slayer to choose Willow as a target for her twisted revenge.
Especially since Willow had attacked her with a backpack earlier that day.
It wasn’t a sword or Buffy’s fists or anything, but her 1500-page psychology textbook had to have given Faith a nasty old bruise that...would heal in five seconds.
Shoot.
Stupid Slayer healing powers.
Willow picked up Buffy’s teddy bear, Elmer, and clutched the furry creature to her chest. The bear brought a little comfort, but it wasn’t the same as…. Oz. No, Tara. She had chosen Tara and Tara was…sleeping and she was…not sleeping.
She had stayed in Tara’s room until Giles called and then she had told her girlfriend that it was okay to take a catnap while the Scoobies ate jelly doughnuts and researched ways to destroy hybrid demons.
Willow set the bear down on the bed and grabbed the book that Giles had asked her to bring. She embraced the weight of the ancient tome and headed to the student parking lot where her light blue Camry was parked. She was grateful for the car - even if she had it only because her mother still felt guilty for almost burning her at the stake last year.
“Hi, Red.”
Willow flinched, turning toward the sound of Faith’s voice. She didn’t get the chance to chuck the book at her before Faith’s fist came flying at her face. Willow stumbled backwards, dropping the book and reaching out for purchase. She managed to grab hold of a bike rack that slowed her fall to the ground.
White-hot pain arced through her jawbone and up to her cheek. She blinked twice as she tried to keep the tears from falling. It wasn’t the first time Faith had ever punched her, but damn it hurt just as much as the last time. Faith towered over her, a blurred figure sporting a noticeably wolfish grin.
“I want to ask you something, Red, and you gotta be honest. Not because I could kill you, because that would be tempting, but because I’ve been in a damn coma for the last ten months or so…what do you think B wants for Christmas this year?”
“Uh…you. Back in a coma.”
Faith pursed her lips and dropped to her haunches. She grabbed Willow’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing Willow to look her right in the eyes.
“I forgot, Red. You don’t celebrate Christmas. Am I too late for the eight days of Chanukah?”
Willow’s right eye twitched and she found herself gathering spit on her tongue. As she prepared to hock her loogie, Faith grabbed her by the throat.
“Swallow, Red, like the good bitch you were trained to be.” Faith commanded, and then smirked as Willow reluctantly followed her orders. “Speaking of bitches, did wolf boy ever take you on the fuck train? Or are his balls still bluer than my favorite Popsicle flavor?”
Willow grimaced. “Screw you.”
“Ooh! Willow’s using big words now. Glad to see you’ve grown up.”
Faith released her grip on Willow’s throat and slid her hand into her pocket. She produced a metallic gizmo that fit over her hand.
“I was going to save this for B, but you’ve given me a better idea, Red.”
Faith grinned and grabbed Willow by the hand.
A flash of light burned brightly between their clasped fingers and Willow gasped in shock and surprise.
It didn’t take her long to figure out that something was happening.
Something bad.
Very, very bad.
*~*~*~
A police siren roared out of the parking lot as Willow (not-Willow) watched. Faith (not-Faith) was in the back of that car and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of what the poor little girl who now had her body but nowhere near her street smarts was about to face in the slammer. It was almost as sweet a victory as sending Buffy would have been, but she had to admit that she was eager to make the goody-two-shoes Slayer squirm in her fashionable-but-reasonably-priced boots.
Willow the bad girl.
The Scooby Gang would never see it coming.
Willow (not-Willow) chuckled, running her hands up and down her arms, feeling the cotton-poly blend crinkle under her fingers. Ugh…first things first, a necessary wardrobe change.
She navigated her way back to the dorms and was grateful to find some helpful information in Willow’s organizational binder. Namely, the name of the dorm and the room she lived in. The backpack was essentially a stalker’s wet dream, or in her case, a body swapper’s saving grace.
She slipped into the bedroom that Willow and Buffy called their own and started digging through Red’s closet.
Cotton dress.
Paisley sweater.
Fluffy dog print on a shapeless jumper thing.
Shit.
She was tempted to go check out Buffy’s closet, but then her eyes settled on something that had been tucked into the back. Black leather pants and a striking crimson-laced corset-laced bustier.
“Bad girl,” Willow (not-Willow) murmured, stroking the fabric affectionately. “I approve.”
She tore off the outfit she had been wearing and tugged herself into the pants. From there, she enveloped her breasts and stomach with the soft leather bustier and tugged the strings into place.
She angled herself in front of Buffy’s mirror and admired her reflection.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m a dumb computer nerd.”
She stuck her tongue out at her reflection.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m a good girl. I think fuzzy sweaters are a valid fashion statement.”
Then she chuckled, puffing out her chest to show off her surprisingly ample cleavage.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m secretly a wanton sex fiend. Rawr.”
*~*~*~
Faith (not-Faith) screamed, struggling against the restraints that held her to the hospital bed.
This was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
“Hold still,” the doctor ordered.
Tears filled her eyes as a hypodermic needle pierced her skin.
“She has my body.”
This was an experience more damaging than any choke-hold, more terrifying than any demon. She was at the mercy of doctors – trained doctors – and they were trying to kill her (not-her. But Faith. Faith who had stolen her Willow-y shell and was using it for her own nefarious purposes.)
“She has my…”
The world faded to black as her head hit the pillow.
*~*~*~
The phone in the dorm rang and the girl now known as Willow picked it up.
“Hey Giles, what’s up?”
“Oh, right, research night. Slipped my mind.”
“Yes. I’m coming.”
“Be right there. Can’t wait to see the gang.”
She set the phone back in the cradle and puckered her lips. After blowing a kiss at her reflection in the mirror, she headed to Giles’s apartment. When she arrived, she had to stifle a laugh. Xander, Giles, and Buffy looked at her with wide, horrified stares.
“Um…why are you all acting liked I died or something?” she asked, forcing an unfamiliar innocent expression to cross her new features.
Xander was the first to lunge for the cross on Giles’s bookshelf. He held it out in front of him, shaking it in her face. “Back, get back, demon!”
She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. What the heck was this all about?
“Are you kidding me, Xander?”
Xander looked at the cross and then looked back at her. He lowered the cross and let his eyes trace the curves of Willow’s body. Up and down and back up again. She coughed, drawing Xander’s attention back to her eyes and back to the angry frown that Anya wore.
“Xander!”
Now it was Xander’s turn to cough as he attempted to cover up his shame at being caught. “I was just checking for bite marks. She’s alive everybody.”
Buffy lifted herself off the couch and pulled her into a hug. She whispered: “Is there some crazy party that I wasn’t invited to or are you doing a secret Mistress of Pain thing with a new boy?”
“No, B. No new boy. I’m still with….”
She was going to say Oz, but Buffy’s comments made her close her mouth. Willow and Oz had broken up? Damn, bet that meant this hot little body had never been properly…plucked. Oh sure, Willow could probably pull off being the cock tease that made Oz sweat, but giving up the goods?
Ha.
Perhaps, she would have to change that tonight. The Mayor had told her to go out with a bang and for all the things Willow had done to her, the bitch deserved it.
Willow (not-Willow) wet her lips with her tongue and widened her eyes, forcing herself to look innocent.
“I meant that I’m not…. I mean…I was planning to go out. Bronze it up with a few of the girls from….”
“Wiccan group?” Buffy supplied.
“Yep.” she replied, grateful for the save.
“That’s cool. You deserve a night to get crazy, but lay off the coffee, okay? I know caffeine makes you twitchy.” Buffy offered her a small smile. “Besides, I think things with Faith have cooled down a bit and if not, you know I’ll be out there hunting her down while I keep an eye out for Adam.”
The new and very improved Willow smiled. “I can always count on Buffy to save the world.”
Buffy nodded and pulled away. She gave Willow a look that made her wonder if Buffy suspected that there was more to her best friend that met the eye, but since the bitch didn’t say anything, she was sure everything was five by five. B could never just shut up. She always had to run her mouth when she thought she’d figured something out.
“Well, I need to get going. I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” She didn’t wait for their goodbyes. She just skipped out of the room.
*~*~*
Faith (not-Faith) stirred, groggily wiping at her eyes. Her handcuff chain bumped against her skin and she groaned. She might now have a Slayer’s super-charged healing, but she was still a human girl on the inside and everything hurt.
She felt hands wrap around her arms, dragging her out of the cop car. They were strong, not Buffy-strong or Angelus-strong, but Riley-strong. Unlike Riley, these guys were not trying to pull her out of harm’s way. Instead, it appeared that they were shoving her into the back of a large truck.
“No…” she moaned, even though she knew it was hopeless, knew they would only believe what they could see, “Not her, not a Slayer…”
The men who held her in captivity said nothing. She guessed she didn’t really expect anything else.
*~*~*
Willow (not -Willow) entered the Bronze and instantly began swaying her hips to the music. Some rock band was playing and the beat was addictive, made her veins thrum. She pushed her way through the bodies on the dance floor, feeling the men and women gyrate against her. The skin-on-skin contact felt like coming home and the beer prices posted behind the bar held the promise of something much more.
As she made her way to the hunky bartender, she collided into the leather-encased shoulder of a smoldering hot male. She had heard earlier that Willow was single so there was no harm in doing a little flirting….
“Red?”
“Yes?” she asked, curiosity flashing in her eyes.
“That’s a new look for ya,” he replied gruffly, leaning against one of the posts that held up the club’s staircase. His eyes swept over her appreciatively, lasciviously. “Not that I’m minding the view. Much better look than that sweater with the pink flower underneath.”
She pursed her lips, trying to solve the puzzle. How did this guy know Willow? More to the point, did he and Willow have some sort of thing? Is that why he was so familiar with her wardrobe choices?
“What are you doing here?”
The man rolled his eyes and held up a half-drained bottle of beer. “Don’t tell me the Slayer sent you. I promise I haven’t been drinking. ‘Sides, American beer is closer to water anyway so it’s not like I’m murdering these things easier.”
She nodded. “You’re a vampire.”
He snorted. “How many times have you felt my fangs against your neck, Red? Or do you need a reminder?” He moved off the post and headed towards her. She took a step back, allowing him to invade her space, allowing him to pin her against another post.
“That would be wrong. Buffy would be mad.”
“Psh, Slayer can’t do nothing to me. You know Spike’s as neutered as a damn puppy dog,” he replied quietly. He pressed his forearm against the space above her head, his chest heaving slightly against hers.
“Spike,” she wrapped her lips around the word and tilted her head back to hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah?” Spike answered, angling his body closer to hers. She could feel his erection nudging against her thigh and she shivered with delight. Oh, the things she was going to do to this body she’d just invaded… the things she wanted this vampire to do. She was gonna have more fun than the previous tenant could ever imagine.
“Have you ever thought about me? Having me, I mean?”
Spike’s tongue darted from his mouth, running a stripe across his top lip. “What are you implying, Red?”
“Well,” she arched her back, pushing her breasts against his chest. “Do you know what to do with a good girl?”
Spike groaned deep in his throat, wrapping his other hand around her waist as he pushed his thigh between her legs. She responded, rubbing herself against him and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. “What’s that, pet?”
“You make her prove it.”
“Fuck,” Spike hissed as she continued to ride his thigh. She moaned in contented pleasure, pushing herself to a quick, explosive orgasm before attempting to twist herself out of Spike’s embrace. Spike shifted though, surprising her by grabbing her shoulders and pinning her to the post. “Who are you?”
For anyone but her, this would be a curses-foiled-again-moment. Anyone but her. But since she was her and she knew the score, she winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Bloody fucking hell,” Spike ran a hand thru his gelled locks, keeping his other hand on her shoulder. Damn it. She didn’t have the Slayer’s strength in this body so it was hard to fight back. “Who are you?” he asked again, irritation rising in his tone.
“Tell me.”
“You can call me Faith,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.
Recognition etched itself into Spike’s face. “So you’re the brown hair, yea tall, psychopath?”
“You forgot to add hot, but I guess you’re right.”
“Where’s the real Willow?” Spike asked, shifting his pants as business returned to normal down there.
“Didn’t know you cared so much,” the ersatz Willow replied. “Thought we had a good thing going here, Spikey.”
“Willow’s not the type of girl to give a vamp blue balls and run,” Spike said. “She might be the type of girl that would force me to propose to the Slayer, but that’s….fuck…that’s not the bloody point. The point is…you gotta switch back.”
“Why should I?” she asked. “I’ve got a good thing going here. She’s who knows where and I’m out in the free world, not in jail. It’s five by five.”
“Is not,” Spike replied. “I may not give a damn about the goody two-shoes gang, but Willow’s been…she’s been an all right chit and she knows how to make a decent cookie. Fix it.”
She shifted. “Can’t fix it unless she’s found. I already told you that I don’t know where she is.”
“Fix it,” Spike growled.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll call Giles.”
“Good.”
*~*~*
It turned out Giles had already found the real Willow. It seemed Buffy had engaged in some out-loud thinky thoughts regarding Willow’s earlier behavior and after some additional Sherlock Holmes work, she found out that the Wicca group at UC-Sunnydale was not partying, but was in fact, preparing for another bake sale. They (they being mostly Tara Maclay, a sweet girl who said she was friends with Willow) had helped the Scoobies obtain a Katra from the nether realm.
It also turned out the Watcher’s Council team had failed to account for Faith’s strength, Willow’s intellectual acumen, and Lydia Chalmer’s sweetheart crush on Rupert. All of these things led to Buffy and Riley successfully finding the girl who truly belonged in the redheaded body.
They stood in the alley behind the Bronze. Spike held the phony Willow’s shoulders and pushed her forward. The real Willow held the Katra in her palm, watching the way Spike handled her body.
It was a little too familiar for her liking and she guessed there would be many chocolate chip cookies in her future. People could forget things if their faces were shoved full of food, yes?
Their hands connected and Faith stared into Willow’s eyes, feeling their bodies shift back to normal.
“I enjoyed the ride, Red,” Faith murmured before letting go of Willow’s hand. It didn’t take long for her to disappear down the alley and into the shadows.
“Can’t say the same!” Willow shouted back. She glanced down at the outfit she was wearing and her cheeks pinkened. “Oh goddess, I didn’t think I’d see these again.”
Spike stepped towards her, his lips parted as if he was ready to share a dirty thought that Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. It was bad enough that she could still feel a wet spot between her legs. There was definitely a story here and the thought of what could have happened made her shiver, made her feel sick.
Spike noted her expression and closed his mouth. He was next to disappear, leaving Willow surrounded by all of her closest friends.
“Well, that was fun.”
Buffy stared at her in shock.
“Not.”
Buffy nodded, threading her arm through Willow’s. “Could have been worse.”
“Yeah…it definitely could have been worse.”
Willow still remembered Angelus.
She still felt the emotional scars he’d left behind, the ones that still made her throat itch.
Now, she would remember Faith.
The way she’d felt trapped, tied up inside a body that wasn’t hers. She’d been poked, prodded, beaten, and bruised. If she hadn’t been rescued in the nick of time, she would have died.
Being inside of Faith’s body meant that no one would have cared.
No one would have heard her scream.
Yes, Buffy was right. Things could have been worse.
They could have been final.
FIN.
Author: snogged
Disclaimer: Joss Whedon and many other corporations own the characters of Buffy the Vampire Slayer. I don’t. Please don’t sue.
Pairing: Willow/Spike, mentions Willow/Oz
Rating/Warnings: FRM/R; for sexual situations, angst/dark, possible emotional and traumatic themes, and body swapping
Word Count: 3237
Summary: What if, instead of switching bodies with Buffy, Faith switches bodies with Willow?
Setting: BtVS, Season 4, AU - “This Year’s Girl/Who Are You?”
Beta Crew: The lovable and amazing
velvetwhip. All other mistakes are mine.Author’s Note: Written for the Which Willow Challenge 2014. Many thanks to
dragonydreams for running this challenge year after year. It’s definitely a favorite of mine.Author’s Note 2: I dedicate this story in celebration of the life of
pickamix. It may seem weird, but I could feel her cheering me on from the other side as I wrote this. I wish you could be here to read this, hun. I love and miss you.Willow still remembered Angelus.
It didn’t matter that it was years ago or that she and Angel were on good terms now. She remembered it because it was the first time since The Harvest that she had completely and unwittingly walked into a trap. But since Angel was her friend, when he had asked her to come to him, she had done so – in a dark hallway – without question. What a lesson that had been. She nearly died that night from oxygen loss, and every night after that she could feel his demon-strong fingers pressing against her windpipe whenever her breath hitched in fear.
With Faith back in the picture, Willow couldn’t escape the twitchy feeling that she could be trapped like that again. Not that Faith was ever her friend, because she wasn’t, but Faith was manipulative and tricky and mean. There were things Faith knew about Willow that would make it easy for the rogue Slayer to choose Willow as a target for her twisted revenge.
Especially since Willow had attacked her with a backpack earlier that day.
It wasn’t a sword or Buffy’s fists or anything, but her 1500-page psychology textbook had to have given Faith a nasty old bruise that...would heal in five seconds.
Shoot.
Stupid Slayer healing powers.
Willow picked up Buffy’s teddy bear, Elmer, and clutched the furry creature to her chest. The bear brought a little comfort, but it wasn’t the same as…. Oz. No, Tara. She had chosen Tara and Tara was…sleeping and she was…not sleeping.
She had stayed in Tara’s room until Giles called and then she had told her girlfriend that it was okay to take a catnap while the Scoobies ate jelly doughnuts and researched ways to destroy hybrid demons.
Willow set the bear down on the bed and grabbed the book that Giles had asked her to bring. She embraced the weight of the ancient tome and headed to the student parking lot where her light blue Camry was parked. She was grateful for the car - even if she had it only because her mother still felt guilty for almost burning her at the stake last year.
“Hi, Red.”
Willow flinched, turning toward the sound of Faith’s voice. She didn’t get the chance to chuck the book at her before Faith’s fist came flying at her face. Willow stumbled backwards, dropping the book and reaching out for purchase. She managed to grab hold of a bike rack that slowed her fall to the ground.
White-hot pain arced through her jawbone and up to her cheek. She blinked twice as she tried to keep the tears from falling. It wasn’t the first time Faith had ever punched her, but damn it hurt just as much as the last time. Faith towered over her, a blurred figure sporting a noticeably wolfish grin.
“I want to ask you something, Red, and you gotta be honest. Not because I could kill you, because that would be tempting, but because I’ve been in a damn coma for the last ten months or so…what do you think B wants for Christmas this year?”
“Uh…you. Back in a coma.”
Faith pursed her lips and dropped to her haunches. She grabbed Willow’s chin between her thumb and forefinger, forcing Willow to look her right in the eyes.
“I forgot, Red. You don’t celebrate Christmas. Am I too late for the eight days of Chanukah?”
Willow’s right eye twitched and she found herself gathering spit on her tongue. As she prepared to hock her loogie, Faith grabbed her by the throat.
“Swallow, Red, like the good bitch you were trained to be.” Faith commanded, and then smirked as Willow reluctantly followed her orders. “Speaking of bitches, did wolf boy ever take you on the fuck train? Or are his balls still bluer than my favorite Popsicle flavor?”
Willow grimaced. “Screw you.”
“Ooh! Willow’s using big words now. Glad to see you’ve grown up.”
Faith released her grip on Willow’s throat and slid her hand into her pocket. She produced a metallic gizmo that fit over her hand.
“I was going to save this for B, but you’ve given me a better idea, Red.”
Faith grinned and grabbed Willow by the hand.
A flash of light burned brightly between their clasped fingers and Willow gasped in shock and surprise.
It didn’t take her long to figure out that something was happening.
Something bad.
Very, very bad.
*~*~*~
A police siren roared out of the parking lot as Willow (not-Willow) watched. Faith (not-Faith) was in the back of that car and she couldn’t help but chuckle at the idea of what the poor little girl who now had her body but nowhere near her street smarts was about to face in the slammer. It was almost as sweet a victory as sending Buffy would have been, but she had to admit that she was eager to make the goody-two-shoes Slayer squirm in her fashionable-but-reasonably-priced boots.
Willow the bad girl.
The Scooby Gang would never see it coming.
Willow (not-Willow) chuckled, running her hands up and down her arms, feeling the cotton-poly blend crinkle under her fingers. Ugh…first things first, a necessary wardrobe change.
She navigated her way back to the dorms and was grateful to find some helpful information in Willow’s organizational binder. Namely, the name of the dorm and the room she lived in. The backpack was essentially a stalker’s wet dream, or in her case, a body swapper’s saving grace.
She slipped into the bedroom that Willow and Buffy called their own and started digging through Red’s closet.
Cotton dress.
Paisley sweater.
Fluffy dog print on a shapeless jumper thing.
Shit.
She was tempted to go check out Buffy’s closet, but then her eyes settled on something that had been tucked into the back. Black leather pants and a striking crimson-laced corset-laced bustier.
“Bad girl,” Willow (not-Willow) murmured, stroking the fabric affectionately. “I approve.”
She tore off the outfit she had been wearing and tugged herself into the pants. From there, she enveloped her breasts and stomach with the soft leather bustier and tugged the strings into place.
She angled herself in front of Buffy’s mirror and admired her reflection.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m a dumb computer nerd.”
She stuck her tongue out at her reflection.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m a good girl. I think fuzzy sweaters are a valid fashion statement.”
Then she chuckled, puffing out her chest to show off her surprisingly ample cleavage.
“Hi, I’m Willow. I’m secretly a wanton sex fiend. Rawr.”
*~*~*~
Faith (not-Faith) screamed, struggling against the restraints that held her to the hospital bed.
This was wrong.
Everything was wrong.
“Hold still,” the doctor ordered.
Tears filled her eyes as a hypodermic needle pierced her skin.
“She has my body.”
This was an experience more damaging than any choke-hold, more terrifying than any demon. She was at the mercy of doctors – trained doctors – and they were trying to kill her (not-her. But Faith. Faith who had stolen her Willow-y shell and was using it for her own nefarious purposes.)
“She has my…”
The world faded to black as her head hit the pillow.
*~*~*~
The phone in the dorm rang and the girl now known as Willow picked it up.
“Hey Giles, what’s up?”
“Oh, right, research night. Slipped my mind.”
“Yes. I’m coming.”
“Be right there. Can’t wait to see the gang.”
She set the phone back in the cradle and puckered her lips. After blowing a kiss at her reflection in the mirror, she headed to Giles’s apartment. When she arrived, she had to stifle a laugh. Xander, Giles, and Buffy looked at her with wide, horrified stares.
“Um…why are you all acting liked I died or something?” she asked, forcing an unfamiliar innocent expression to cross her new features.
Xander was the first to lunge for the cross on Giles’s bookshelf. He held it out in front of him, shaking it in her face. “Back, get back, demon!”
She stared at him, eyes wide with disbelief. What the heck was this all about?
“Are you kidding me, Xander?”
Xander looked at the cross and then looked back at her. He lowered the cross and let his eyes trace the curves of Willow’s body. Up and down and back up again. She coughed, drawing Xander’s attention back to her eyes and back to the angry frown that Anya wore.
“Xander!”
Now it was Xander’s turn to cough as he attempted to cover up his shame at being caught. “I was just checking for bite marks. She’s alive everybody.”
Buffy lifted herself off the couch and pulled her into a hug. She whispered: “Is there some crazy party that I wasn’t invited to or are you doing a secret Mistress of Pain thing with a new boy?”
“No, B. No new boy. I’m still with….”
She was going to say Oz, but Buffy’s comments made her close her mouth. Willow and Oz had broken up? Damn, bet that meant this hot little body had never been properly…plucked. Oh sure, Willow could probably pull off being the cock tease that made Oz sweat, but giving up the goods?
Ha.
Perhaps, she would have to change that tonight. The Mayor had told her to go out with a bang and for all the things Willow had done to her, the bitch deserved it.
Willow (not-Willow) wet her lips with her tongue and widened her eyes, forcing herself to look innocent.
“I meant that I’m not…. I mean…I was planning to go out. Bronze it up with a few of the girls from….”
“Wiccan group?” Buffy supplied.
“Yep.” she replied, grateful for the save.
“That’s cool. You deserve a night to get crazy, but lay off the coffee, okay? I know caffeine makes you twitchy.” Buffy offered her a small smile. “Besides, I think things with Faith have cooled down a bit and if not, you know I’ll be out there hunting her down while I keep an eye out for Adam.”
The new and very improved Willow smiled. “I can always count on Buffy to save the world.”
Buffy nodded and pulled away. She gave Willow a look that made her wonder if Buffy suspected that there was more to her best friend that met the eye, but since the bitch didn’t say anything, she was sure everything was five by five. B could never just shut up. She always had to run her mouth when she thought she’d figured something out.
“Well, I need to get going. I’ll catch up with you guys later, okay?” She didn’t wait for their goodbyes. She just skipped out of the room.
*~*~*
Faith (not-Faith) stirred, groggily wiping at her eyes. Her handcuff chain bumped against her skin and she groaned. She might now have a Slayer’s super-charged healing, but she was still a human girl on the inside and everything hurt.
She felt hands wrap around her arms, dragging her out of the cop car. They were strong, not Buffy-strong or Angelus-strong, but Riley-strong. Unlike Riley, these guys were not trying to pull her out of harm’s way. Instead, it appeared that they were shoving her into the back of a large truck.
“No…” she moaned, even though she knew it was hopeless, knew they would only believe what they could see, “Not her, not a Slayer…”
The men who held her in captivity said nothing. She guessed she didn’t really expect anything else.
*~*~*
Willow (not -Willow) entered the Bronze and instantly began swaying her hips to the music. Some rock band was playing and the beat was addictive, made her veins thrum. She pushed her way through the bodies on the dance floor, feeling the men and women gyrate against her. The skin-on-skin contact felt like coming home and the beer prices posted behind the bar held the promise of something much more.
As she made her way to the hunky bartender, she collided into the leather-encased shoulder of a smoldering hot male. She had heard earlier that Willow was single so there was no harm in doing a little flirting….
“Red?”
“Yes?” she asked, curiosity flashing in her eyes.
“That’s a new look for ya,” he replied gruffly, leaning against one of the posts that held up the club’s staircase. His eyes swept over her appreciatively, lasciviously. “Not that I’m minding the view. Much better look than that sweater with the pink flower underneath.”
She pursed her lips, trying to solve the puzzle. How did this guy know Willow? More to the point, did he and Willow have some sort of thing? Is that why he was so familiar with her wardrobe choices?
“What are you doing here?”
The man rolled his eyes and held up a half-drained bottle of beer. “Don’t tell me the Slayer sent you. I promise I haven’t been drinking. ‘Sides, American beer is closer to water anyway so it’s not like I’m murdering these things easier.”
She nodded. “You’re a vampire.”
He snorted. “How many times have you felt my fangs against your neck, Red? Or do you need a reminder?” He moved off the post and headed towards her. She took a step back, allowing him to invade her space, allowing him to pin her against another post.
“That would be wrong. Buffy would be mad.”
“Psh, Slayer can’t do nothing to me. You know Spike’s as neutered as a damn puppy dog,” he replied quietly. He pressed his forearm against the space above her head, his chest heaving slightly against hers.
“Spike,” she wrapped her lips around the word and tilted her head back to hold eye contact with him.
“Yeah?” Spike answered, angling his body closer to hers. She could feel his erection nudging against her thigh and she shivered with delight. Oh, the things she was going to do to this body she’d just invaded… the things she wanted this vampire to do. She was gonna have more fun than the previous tenant could ever imagine.
“Have you ever thought about me? Having me, I mean?”
Spike’s tongue darted from his mouth, running a stripe across his top lip. “What are you implying, Red?”
“Well,” she arched her back, pushing her breasts against his chest. “Do you know what to do with a good girl?”
Spike groaned deep in his throat, wrapping his other hand around her waist as he pushed his thigh between her legs. She responded, rubbing herself against him and nuzzling her face into his shoulder. “What’s that, pet?”
“You make her prove it.”
“Fuck,” Spike hissed as she continued to ride his thigh. She moaned in contented pleasure, pushing herself to a quick, explosive orgasm before attempting to twist herself out of Spike’s embrace. Spike shifted though, surprising her by grabbing her shoulders and pinning her to the post. “Who are you?”
For anyone but her, this would be a curses-foiled-again-moment. Anyone but her. But since she was her and she knew the score, she winked. “Wouldn’t you like to know?”
“Bloody fucking hell,” Spike ran a hand thru his gelled locks, keeping his other hand on her shoulder. Damn it. She didn’t have the Slayer’s strength in this body so it was hard to fight back. “Who are you?” he asked again, irritation rising in his tone.
“Tell me.”
“You can call me Faith,” she admitted, shrugging her shoulders.
Recognition etched itself into Spike’s face. “So you’re the brown hair, yea tall, psychopath?”
“You forgot to add hot, but I guess you’re right.”
“Where’s the real Willow?” Spike asked, shifting his pants as business returned to normal down there.
“Didn’t know you cared so much,” the ersatz Willow replied. “Thought we had a good thing going here, Spikey.”
“Willow’s not the type of girl to give a vamp blue balls and run,” Spike said. “She might be the type of girl that would force me to propose to the Slayer, but that’s….fuck…that’s not the bloody point. The point is…you gotta switch back.”
“Why should I?” she asked. “I’ve got a good thing going here. She’s who knows where and I’m out in the free world, not in jail. It’s five by five.”
“Is not,” Spike replied. “I may not give a damn about the goody two-shoes gang, but Willow’s been…she’s been an all right chit and she knows how to make a decent cookie. Fix it.”
She shifted. “Can’t fix it unless she’s found. I already told you that I don’t know where she is.”
“Fix it,” Spike growled.
“Fine.” She crossed her arms over her chest. “I’ll call Giles.”
“Good.”
*~*~*
It turned out Giles had already found the real Willow. It seemed Buffy had engaged in some out-loud thinky thoughts regarding Willow’s earlier behavior and after some additional Sherlock Holmes work, she found out that the Wicca group at UC-Sunnydale was not partying, but was in fact, preparing for another bake sale. They (they being mostly Tara Maclay, a sweet girl who said she was friends with Willow) had helped the Scoobies obtain a Katra from the nether realm.
It also turned out the Watcher’s Council team had failed to account for Faith’s strength, Willow’s intellectual acumen, and Lydia Chalmer’s sweetheart crush on Rupert. All of these things led to Buffy and Riley successfully finding the girl who truly belonged in the redheaded body.
They stood in the alley behind the Bronze. Spike held the phony Willow’s shoulders and pushed her forward. The real Willow held the Katra in her palm, watching the way Spike handled her body.
It was a little too familiar for her liking and she guessed there would be many chocolate chip cookies in her future. People could forget things if their faces were shoved full of food, yes?
Their hands connected and Faith stared into Willow’s eyes, feeling their bodies shift back to normal.
“I enjoyed the ride, Red,” Faith murmured before letting go of Willow’s hand. It didn’t take long for her to disappear down the alley and into the shadows.
“Can’t say the same!” Willow shouted back. She glanced down at the outfit she was wearing and her cheeks pinkened. “Oh goddess, I didn’t think I’d see these again.”
Spike stepped towards her, his lips parted as if he was ready to share a dirty thought that Willow wasn’t sure she wanted to hear. It was bad enough that she could still feel a wet spot between her legs. There was definitely a story here and the thought of what could have happened made her shiver, made her feel sick.
Spike noted her expression and closed his mouth. He was next to disappear, leaving Willow surrounded by all of her closest friends.
“Well, that was fun.”
Buffy stared at her in shock.
“Not.”
Buffy nodded, threading her arm through Willow’s. “Could have been worse.”
“Yeah…it definitely could have been worse.”
Willow still remembered Angelus.
She still felt the emotional scars he’d left behind, the ones that still made her throat itch.
Now, she would remember Faith.
The way she’d felt trapped, tied up inside a body that wasn’t hers. She’d been poked, prodded, beaten, and bruised. If she hadn’t been rescued in the nick of time, she would have died.
Being inside of Faith’s body meant that no one would have cared.
No one would have heard her scream.
Yes, Buffy was right. Things could have been worse.
They could have been final.
FIN.
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no subject
on 2014-12-22 01:01 pm (UTC)