action + joint post ✪ out of some sentimental gain -- i wanted you to feel my pain

[herotypical]

[ buffy and spike have been out a-missioning -- only it hasn't gone quite as...merrily as they might have hoped. you see, they’re back a little early. spike decided to make an escape attempt and, in doing so, he’s brought malnosso justice down on both their heads. it’s all terribly unfair.

their punishment? one doozy of a bodyswap. spike is buffy and buffy is spike. and neither of them are too pleased about it.

sartre once claimed that 'hell is other people'; however, a situation like this makes a convincing argument that hell is, in fact, being other people. after they argue their way out of a proverbial wet paper bag and manage to find better clothing than the new feather garb they're initially given, they'll be available (throughout the next few days) to be mocked or sympathized with or awkwardly avoided all around town, depending on the individual.

find top comments below for either buffy's thread or spike's thread or -- if you’re looking for a thread with both of them -- buffy and spike. buffy’s tags will come from deadhero and spike’s tags will come from heroatypical. please don’t hesitate to tag all three options if that’ll float your boat. ]

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ACTION HOUSE SEVEN

[all7seas]

Jack kicked open the door of Seven -- not viciously. It was simply because his arms were full of Things.

Shells. Cat food. A strangely-shaped acorn. A bag of cheesy buns. Some apple cider in a jug. Lots of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter -- Jack wanted to experiment with that and see if he, indeed, COULD believe. How credible did these butter fakers think people were?

He WASN'T expecting Buffy home, though thoughts of her were a constant distraction. The short sail on the Joanna had been lonesome, save for the company of Kipinn and several sympathetic porpoises. His dreams had been happy, though, and filled with her. The sad dream? She'd obliterated it, he was now convinced. Obliterated it for his birthday.

The pirate smiled as he shouldered his way into the house.

[heroatypical]

The home was not empty. Two recently returned residents were in the middle of arguing. A short petite slayer was marching out of Buffy's room, adorned in a New Feather dress, and looking terribly cross.

"Forget it. That's not going to happen. I can dress myself perfectly fine, thank you. Not like I can't work out how to take those things off myself. Putting them on? I can manage that too."

Something was not quite right with "her" accent.

[deadhero]

Something was even less quite right about "Spike" and his accent: "Would you get back here?" The vampire appeared in the doorway to Buffy's bedroom and stood on the threshhold with arms most severely crossed across the chest.

"Get back here with that body. You just have to deal with the fact that it's mine."

[all7seas]

Stricken, the pirate stopped. Stared. Slowly, very slowly, tubs of I Can't Believe It's Not Butter! began to drop to the floor. First one tub. Then the second.

Then the next two, in quick succession. Thunk thunk thunk roll.

How gullible he had been. How could it be happening this way. How.

The oddly shaped acorn was next. It bounced rather alarmingly.

But Jack held the giant bag of cat food like a shield as he watched a betrayal he would never have believed could happen.

[heroatypical]

"Yours or not, it doesn't mean I have to like it, do I?"

He hadn't noticed the pirate. It was for the best really. It'd be too tempting to make it work.

"Don't act like the victim here, either. I've got you inside me too."

1/2

[deadhero]

"Can you please not say it like that? At least, not so l--"

2/2

[deadhero]

"..Jack."

There was altogether too much a mixture of fright and yearning and love and shame in that voice.

[all7seas]

"'S got," he murmured, licking his lips. Shell-shocked, really. He was fumbling behind his back for the doorknob. It was time to go.

"'S got a rich buttery flavor, apparently."

Initial flight reaction aside, some voice within him -- a friendly Fetch, maybe, or simply his common sense -- was urging Jack to get more to the bottom of this. Something was dreadfully wrong.

Flight, though, well...it so often won out for the pirate.

[heroatypical]

Spike was so tempted to toy with Jack right now. It would give him some sort of satisfaction, wouldn't it?

But he remembered Faith doing it to him in Buffy's body. And that small bond of being another man in love with Buffy was able to win through.

"Spike." He turned and crossed his arms, then realized how much touching that involved, went for hands on his hips, but decided that wasn't much better. "I'm Spike, trapped in the bloody slayer. You're not being cheated on, you stupid sod. Much as I'd prefer it over this."

[deadhero]

"Shut up, Spike," she said -- even as she felt rather proud of him for coming clean so decently. It was hard not to feel somewhat indebted to his honesty when her romantic bliss hung in the balance. "But it's the truth. We've been swapped. Give it, like, three seconds. You'll realize it's true."

She now passed Spike-in-her-body in the hall and although she didn't quite approach Jack, she at least moved in that general direction. And then stooped to pick up a tub of...fake butter.

Buffy frowned and then mouthed a kind of 'why?' question at the pirate.

[all7seas]

"Less....cholera."

Cholesterol. The word was cholesterol. Jack was trying to process. He gripped his forehead between his fingertips.

Bloody HELL this was going to be a long week.

[heroatypical]

"You even THINK of trying to kiss him with my lips and I'll put you both in a world of hurt."

[deadhero]

"...Like I'd put him through that trauma," she shot back -- but held the butter tub out to the pirate in a sign of weird supplication.

"Besides -- bruise me up, Spike? And you're the one who has to deal with the recup-a-thon once we're switched back." A beat. "That almost would make it worth it."

[all7seas]

"NO ONE'S BRUISING HER! YOU! NO ONE." He hadn't meant it to come out in that much of an angry tone. Jack swiped the not-butter tub back from her.

"You're both home early," he continued in clipped, cool tones as he reached down to pick up the rest. Trying to regain control.

[heroatypical]

He was not much affected by either the threat or the outburst. Only annoyed. Very annoyed.

"Blame Buffy for that. She bungled up the entire plan."

[deadhero]

"Excuse me?" There was so much sass and attitude in those scant syllables. There might have been a little head bob alongside the whole thing. You'd swear she was three seconds away from a finger-wagging. Spike had never before looked so...flamboyant. "You never even told me about any plans. I was left in the dark, plan-wise."

She crouched for another tub. Helpful, her. "He tried to escape, Jack."

[all7seas]

"Colossal idiot." Jack could barely focus for the anger. He fumblingly took the next tub from her without looking at her. He couldn't. Just couldn't.

Rising, he headed into the kitchen with his booty.

[heroatypical]

Spike took a step towards Jack, finger out angrily, before realizing that Jack was now taller than him. So he stopped.

"Well at least I tried, didn't I? Like I give a rat's ass I could get punished for it. I wasn't going to sit on my hands waiting for the magic day someone saw to it I'd be free to leave."

[deadhero]

The switch flipped: he wasn't capable of looking at her. And although she understood, she also felt it hurt. Sting. But she swallowed that half of her pride and...

Oh. That was exceedingly surreal. Buffy rocked back on her feet while she watched an irate version of herself confront a fuming Jack. Is that what they looked like? When they fought? Did she really look so...

Laughably small?

"Oh my God," she groaned into a hand. "Can vampires get headaches? If vampires got headaches, I would be getting one right now."

[all7seas]

Sparrow didn't answer her. He didn't see how anything he could say could make this better. He couldn't.

Carefully he put away the cholera-fighting not-butter. He tucked the acorn back in his pocket. The cat food went in a cabinet. Methodical.

[heroatypical]

Still fuming, he couldn't be sure if he had succeeded in making his point or made things worse or what. But he was sick of this ridiculous dress and the ridiculous slippers on his feet.

He turned to leave. "I'm putting something decent on now."

[deadhero]

...It was a terrible choice to have to make. Buffy could either stalk down Spike and supervise the humiliating (but necessary) task of dressing her body in something a little less New Feathery or she could let him swan off and take the time to try and smooth something -- anything -- over with Jack.

In the end, she merely waved an exasperated hand at Spike and muttered a carefully worded warning about how he'd better make it snappy. Her real mission was in the kitchen.

She hovered in the doorway, feeling altogether too tall.

"You're upset. I understand that. But..."

Her voice. Buffy really missed her own voice.

[all7seas]

Hector was yowling in his PLEASE FEED ME voice whilst twining and snaking in a trippy way around Jack's legs. Cupcake was sitting by rather demurely licking one paw, save for the calculating I shall eat FIRST AND MOST, my son expression on her face.

"Ah. You do? Understand?


Interesting."

Jack busied himself preparing the cats' dinner.

[heroatypical]

Being undeterred, Spike stormed from the kitchen to Buffy's room. He'd snatch up some clothes, then take them to his own room. Like hell he was going to change in there while staring at Jack's stuff mingled with hers.

This would take awhile.

[deadhero]

"Yes. Understand. Or maybe worse 'cause last I checked? I'm the one whose body's being taken for a spin right now. Mine."

She viciously wrapped Spike's deeper voice around that one word. Buffy was feeling mighty possessive of herself, tonight. Even still, her volume dropped: "It's not like I'm enjoying this."