"I knocked," I said hastily, staring down at Willow. Willow looked sad and
  silly sprawled across the floor in my body, her eyes full of unshed tears
  and her hands modestly sheltering her crotch.

  "I didn't hear you," Willow whimpered, losing the high, shrill pitch to her
  tone. She still looked and sounded on the verge of hysteria but I was glad
  the strident, grating note was gone.

  "You must have been busy," I made up an excuse. Obviously, she had
  been...busy. Removing my pants. Strips of leather lay about her bare legs
  like black streamers. It did not take a rocket scientist to figure out that
  she had gotten turned on and did not known how to turn herself back off.

  "AngelmypantsshrunkwhileIwascryingandIcouldn'tgetthemoffandthenITgothardandIdidn'tknowwhattodo.I'mSOOOOOsorry,"
  she wailed. Tears spilled down her cheeks in copious quantities.

  I wanted to laugh so bad it hurt but even I am not that big an asshole.
  Poor Willow looked so miserable. I wanted to comfort and shelter her.

  I hurried over to the bed and grabbed a pillow. Then I knelt beside her and
  settled it modestly across her lap, freeing her hands. She accepted it from
  me with a watery, grateful smile.

  Willow was not in possession of anything I have not seen before a million
  times. Believe me, I have lived with the equipment for well-over two
  centuries. I know *exactly* how contrary the male organ is, especially
  since I cannot do anything more with it than whack off in the shower.

  "ThisisSOOOOOhumiliating!" Willow sobbed.

  "There, there," I placated, patting her back.

  "Howdoyoumakeit hic hic hic gobackdown?"

  I thought about telling her but decided that she was not quite ready for
  that bit of information yet. I scurried and came up with a semi-decent
  answer. "Willow, is there anything that really turns you off? Something
  really gross?"

  She nodded. "Frogs hic hic hic."

  "OK," I nodded. This was good; frogs are kind of gross. "Now listen to
  me," I commanded. She looked up and met my eyes. "Think about
  frogs...think about having sex in a tub full of wet slimy frogs."

  She blanched. "Ewww..."

  "Is it working?" I asked.

  "A little." She sniffed and self-consciously fluffed the pillow on her lap.
  As she rubbed away her tears with the back of her hand, I sagged with
  relief.

  "OK, good. Now, I'm gonna get you some clothes. Stay right here."

  She nodded and pointed. "I put some on the bed."

  The bed, right. I looked and found clean, dry clothes stalked neatly at the
  foot of the bed. I picked them up and carried them back over to Willow.
  "Do you need help dressing?" I asked, feeling like I was addressing a
  toddler.

  Or a child vampire.

  "NO!" Willow shouted. Then, more quietly, "I mean, no thank you." She
  clutched the clothes. "I can manage." I waited and she stared at me
  pointedly. "You can wait. Outside."

  I started. Right, outside. I left, closing the bedroom door behind me.
  Once in the living room, I collapsed on the couch.

  I have to get my body back.

  #

  It was easier getting clothes on Angel's body than it had been getting them
  off. I focused on dressing and tried hard not to think about what had just
  happened between us.

  I did anyway.

  Oh Goddess! This was so humiliating! He had caught me with my pants
  down--off!--in a horribly compromising position and he had been so *sweet*.
  I was petrified that he wais going to laugh at me but he hadn't. Instead,
  he was kind and gentle and understanding.

  And he helped me get rid of IT.

  Better not to think about IT, lest IT get excited again. Hastily, I did
  what Angel had taught me and envisioned frogs again. TUBS FULL OF WET,
  GROSS, SLIMY, AWFUL FROGS. Thank the Goddess, it worked.

  I finished dressing and hurried out to the main room. Angel was sitting on
  the couch, wearing only a red blanket, which I had not noticed earlier. My
  cheeks flushed bright red. I guess Angel ignored my protest and changed
  anyway.

  Which meant that he had seen me naked.

  My mind rushed. What had he thought? Had he been disappointed? Impressed
  even a little? Had I met any of his expectations or was my body a terrible
  let down to him? I bet that he would have preferred Buffy's body to mine if
  he had a choice.

  My humiliation and embarrassment increased. Dropping my eyes, I stared at
  my feet and wished that I could melt down into the earth. A quick trip to
  hell would have been preferable to Angel telling me how unattractive he
  found his new body.

  Angel stared at me and arched a fine eyebrow. He must have noticed my blush
  but he chose to ignore it. "I'm gonna throw on something more comfortable,"
  he said, jumping to his feet. He disappeared into the bedroom.

  I heaved a sigh and flopped down onto the couch. At least Angel seemed to
  be over most of his anger. He was not glaring at me anymore. He still
  seemed broody, but then, when is Angel not broody?

  He was back faster than I expected, wearing men's clothing that were six or
  seven sizes too large for my petite form. He looked comfortable though, so
  I suppose that was what mattered.

  "Let me grab a notepad and we can get started," Angel said, hurrying into
  the kitchen. I nodded eagerly. The sooner we got started, the sooner I
  could get my body back, and the sooner this ordeal would be over.

  "Start with the spell components," he ordered, coming back with a pen and a
  pad of yellow legal paper.

  I complied. "Hemlock, powdered quartz, hematite, sulfur, phosphorus..." I
  paused while he wrote, scrunching my forehead as I concentrated on recalling
  every little ingredient of the spell.

  "Keep going," he grunted.

  "Shredded cattails."

  "Cat tails?" Angel looked ill.

  I glared at him. "The plant, not the pussycat."

  "Oh." He went back to writing. I kept going, reciting spell components.
  Finally, we moved on to the actual steps for performing the spell, which
  Angel also wrote down. He took copious notes.

  He finished up frowning down at the notepad. "This seems really familiar,"
  he said, "but I can't quite place..."

  "Oh," I said awkwardly. "Well, the spell is actually modified slightly. I
  changed a few details," I said, cringing.

  "What details?" he demanded, his jaw working.

  "Well...err...gulp...Originallyitwasagypsycurse.Irewordedittoturnitintoablessing."
  I spat the truth out at him in a hurry.

  Angel exhaled and glared, his expression growing horrified with
  enlightenment. Mentally, he jumped to conclusions. The right ones.
  "Jenny's tribe?" he howled, his pitch rising steadily.

  I nodded frantically.

  Angel leapt to his feet. His much smaller hands grabbed my shoulders and
  shook. "WILLOW, DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA WHAT YOU'VE DONE?" He did not have
  enough strength to actually shake me but I hunched my shoulders and
  dissolved into tears again. I shook my head no.

  He leaned forward, his face in mine and forced me to meet his eyes. "That
  curse is irreversible," he hissed.

  I gulped frantically for air I could not breathe.

  Then I fainted.
 

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