Spike and Buffy stared at the collapsed Watcher, lying crumpled on the cement floor surrounded by the remains of the shattered sword.
“Is he still alive?” Buffy asked suddenly, thinking that was a stupid thing to be worrying about after the man had tried to dust her boyfriend. She wasn't sure she would be all that bothered if Spike said 'no.'
“Yeah. His heart beat's a little slow but it's there.” Spike blinked at her, feeling strangely otherworldly and distant.
“Oh.” She said then. She turned and wrapped her arms around him. He responded hesitantly, her smell was still strange to him and her arms were too long, but his arms wrapped her up anyway.
They stayed like that for a few moments, before Buffy broke away, still feeling shaky, “We need to get back and find Faith. I want my body back.”
“I want your body back, too, pet.” Spike gave her a trademark leer.
Buffy smiled, it felt strange on the unfamiliar face.
“Knew I could get a grin.” Spike smirked, placing a hand on the small of her back as they exited the warehouse.
* * *
They walked in a comfortable silence; Buffy was still trying to operate Faith's body properly. Her centre of balance was off because Faith was taller and had more flesh to maneuver. When she crossed her arms, she had to adjust to a larger bosom.
She stumbled because Faith had larger feet.
When her hair brushed against her face she jerked away, not used to the length and the dark color.
She really wanted her body back.
“What if we can't change back?” She asked Spike quietly.
“Do you think the Powers that Fuck About would punish their big hero like that? Three things are for certain for you, love: Your looks will be yours forever and you're stuck with them. You'll go straight to Heaven when you go. And I'll love you beyond the World's end.” Spike took her hand, “We'll get your body back. And on the miniscule chance that we don't, I guess I'll learn to love brown eyes again.”
* * *
“What do you mean she got away?” Buffy-in-Faith's-body demanded.
“When Xander came in, he broke our concentration on the holding spell and she slipped out.” Willow flinched because Buffy was harsh and the situation was getting really confusing. She had just cast a spell on Faith in Buffy's body and now Buffy in faith's body was demanding why it had failed.
Spike raised his nose to the breeze. The hunt was on.
* * *
If Spike was good at anything as a vampire, it was tracking. Even Darla would admit that in his younger days. His nose was ridiculously sensitive. He had taken up smoking simply to dull his senses to the point where he could bear it all.
He could control himself more now, of course, but in large crowds he mostly tried not to breathe. The smell of humanity was often staggering.
Vampires didn't really smell of the same things humans did. They didn't sweat, they didn't produce oils and their mouths didn't support the growth of bacteria so their 'breath' didn't smell. Vampires did have their own individual odors, but they weren't the same kind as the living by any means.
So in contrast, when a vampire's sensitive nose came into contact with a human being, all of who had a myriad of different scents, not all of them pleasant, their senses went crazy.
Tracking an individual human was child's play.
And Spike found the familiar smell of Buffy's body immediately.
They arrived at the church moments before the police.
* * *
“Just focus on the bad guys and leave Faith to me.” Buffy instructed firmly.
Spike nodded. And they went in.
* * *
In the midst of the battle, Spike spotted Buffy's body pounding on Faith's. A vampire crossed his path and distracted him then and dissolved into dust as Spike planted a stake in his chest.
When the dust cleared, Buffy's body was standing in the aisle, watching Faith's flee the scene.
Taking care of the last few vamps, Spike made his way over to the lone figure.
He knew she was herself again, Buffy would never run from a fight. He slipped an arm around her.
“She kept saying these things. Like I didn't deserve what I had and stuff. But she was punching up her own face. What does that mean?” She asked him, leaning in to his willing support.
“You need to wonder about someone so willing to give up their own identity, love. She was pretty willing to never have her own body again, let alone her own life.” Spike rubbed circles into the small of her back.
“You think she hates herself?” Buffy asked suddenly as the thought occurred to her.
“I think that one's had a rough time of it. It's pretty obvious to me and I only met her for five minutes. I think things can happen, people can do things to you that change the way you think about who you are. I'm not excusing what she did, I'm just saying that maybe she just grasped at the best sounding solution.”
Buffy continued to stare at the door where Faith had disappeared. She considered trying to track her down, going to L.A, where she was most likely headed and finding a way to get her behind bars.
But she realized then that it was not her job. Faith was a human being and therefore not within her jurisdiction. And further more, Faith would have enough enemies without adding one more.
Que Sera Sera, Buffy thought wryly, wrapping an arm around Spike's waist.
And they went home.
* * *
A few weeks later, as Buffy was actually settling down in her new classes, Spike mentioned a trip to L.A he was going on that weekend.
He elaborated that the reason for the trip was a punk club in South Central and Buffy opted out.
“Sorry, it's just totally not my scene. You can go off with the guys and have fun, though.” Buffy patted his cheek and turned back to the chick flick.
Spike nodded like that was what he knew she would say and headed upstairs to get ready.
Buffy felt Tara watching her, “What?”
“You're really not going?” Tara asked, raising an eyebrow, “You know those clubs are pretty packed. Lots of bodies close together. All kinds of people go to them for all kinds of reasons.” Tara smiled knowingly.
“It really isn't my scene.” Buffy shrugged, “I don't like screaming, loud music and stuff.”
Tara nodded in a placating way, “If you say so.” And turned back to the movie.
Buffy glanced at her, confused.
* * *
Spike avoided his reflection almost constantly since he had gotten it back. It just made things easier.
Tara had taken the scale into her own room because one night she caught him near tears and fuming over the reading of 158 pounds and put her foot down.
So he got dressed in the bedroom in his clubbing gear, spiked his hair, missing the bleach for the first time in a while, and did his eyeliner.
He tried to insert some of his old piercings but after they broke themselves rather than breaking the skin, he gave up and did without.
He resisted the urge to check how everything looked because he knew he would be unhappy and self-conscious all night if he did and went downstairs.
In truth, he was almost glad Buffy had refused his invitation, he was nervous enough without having her in the audience. What if he sucked and she heard that? Tara and total strangers was one thing but his girl was another. It was bad enough three of his surfing buddies were going to be there.
* * *
Clomping down the stairs he tossed a goodbye over his shoulder and opened the door.
“FREEZE!” Buffy shout had the effect she was going for; Spike froze one foot off the ground.
Buffy had been momentarily stunned at the image her boyfriend was sporting. The leather vest showed off his arms and there was no spare room in those jeans. He looked like Original Sin.
He looked like a walking orgasm.
He looked like a magnet for every tramp punk 'ho in L.A.
“I'm getting dressed, don't leave without me.” Buffy dashed upstairs, ignoring his stunned expression.
Tara just smiled and stole Buffy's popcorn bowl.
* * *
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