The Other Half Lives
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 1 – A Regular Guy
(Spring)
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 1 – A Regular Guy
(Spring)
Buffy left her shift at The DoubleMeat Palace with the intention of heading straight home. But she had just walked the two blocks into a residential area when she realized there was someone behind her. She sighed and turned around.
"Spi-"
But it wasn’t Spike. It was a young man named Greg, a student at UC-Sunnydale and a frequent customer at The DoubleMeat Palace.
"Sorry to startle you, Buffy," said Greg, as he approached her. He smiled sheepishly and looked away from her. "I deliberately waited for you to get off work, but then I didn’t have the nerve to go up to you right away."
"The nerve?"
"I thought maybe you’d wanna go get a cup of coffee or something with me?"
Buffy smiled at him. She’d suspected he might be interested in her, but she hadn’t given him any encouragement beyond the mildest of everyday flirtation. And she knew, from the uninvited, unwanted - but undeniable - lurch of disappointment she’d just felt at the sight of Greg, that she wasn’t ready to give up Spike. And Lord knows what he would do if she tried to date others while she was still with him. It didn’t matter - she’d never known how to juggle more than one man a time.
"That’s nice of you, Greg," said Buffy, putting extra weariness in her voice, "but it’s nearly 1 AM. I’m really tired and all I want to do is go home. I worked a double shift."
"Oh. Right." Greg walked around to face her and stop her in her tracks. His face had hardened. "I’ve seen you leave with that blonde guy before, even after a double-shift. You’re never too tired for him."
"What??" Buffy was stunned and alarmed at his words, and at the change in his tone.
"You think I don’t know what he is? Girls like you tease guys like me, then they act like they’re too good, but they’re not. You can’t even imagine what it’s like for a regular guy to get a come-on from a girl like you, just so he can get shot down."
"You’d better get out of my way," said Buffy, deadly serious. She was seconds away from punching him to the ground.
But Greg didn’t budge. "Like you’re too good for me? Like you think I don’t know? I know what he is."
"Well, if you know what I am –" Buffy heard Spike’s gravelly voice and turned around to see him coming up behind her, looking right at Greg, "then you know you’d best leave."
Greg began to back away from Buffy, but he gave her one last look: "This isn’t over."
Spike rushed forward, roaring: "It had damn well better be over!" He gave chase for a block or so, as Greg ran away at top speed. But Buffy caught up to Spike and grabbed his arm:
"Stop! Just let him go!"
Spike turned toward her. "That guy needs every idea he’s ever had scared out of him."
"I think that’s already been accomplished. Besides, what would you do to him if you caught him, Mr. Chips?"
"I figured you’d do the pummeling."
"I’m too tired for pummeling. All pummeled out."
"Too bad. I was gonna invite you over to my place for a little . . . pummeling. Huh?" He put an arm around her waist and bent forward to give her ear a tiny nibble. "C’mon."
Buffy turned toward Spike, but didn’t answer right away. He had both his arms around her waist now, and was nibbling again at her ear, whispering into it, "C’mon. Come home with me."
Buffy’s body was telling her two different things, and her mind, as usual, wasn’t even entering into the equation:
"No." She moved out of his arms and faced him. "Not the crypt. I’m tired and I’m smelly and I want to go home where there’s running water for a hot shower as soon as I get home, and my nice, soft, NOT dank and underground bed to sleep in, and a coffeemaker to make fresh coffee in the morning, and a toaster to toast my bagel. All those things humans need."
"I got needs, too," Spike put his arms around her waist again, and pulled her forward, firmly against him. He leaned into her ear again: "C’mon, Slayer."
"NO!" She shoved him hard, away from her. "Can’t men EVER just take no for an answer? I just worked a double-shift at the DoubleMeat, and all I want to do is go home and sleep – but first I’ve got to listen to a guy talk like I owe him a date, then I’ve got to listen to you act like I owe you a . . . pummeling! What is wrong with you guys??"
"You’re comparing me to him??"
"You know - do you think it feels all that different to me?" Buffy shook her head. "It’s always the same old thing with men. It’s always about one thing. So I say no, but it’s like I’m not allowed to. I told you that I can’t handle going to the crypt right now. What is so hard to understand about that?"
"You want a hot shower and a coffeemaker, I got some money for a motel room." Spike tilted his head at her, looking at her quizzically; very seriously, his eyes alive and full of promise.
Buffy stared at him, then reached for the lapels of his coat to bring him toward her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. "Why didn’t you say so?" she said, "Willow knew I’d be working really late so she promised to stay home with Dawn tonight. I can be away." She kissed him again.
Greg had circled back around. From a distance, behind a tree, he watched as Buffy kissed Spike, backing him toward a tree as if she’d do it with him right there on the sidewalk. Yet not 5 minutes ago, she’d said she was too tired to go for coffee. Greg had eaten at that wretched place almost every night for three weeks after the first time he’d seen her. She had smiled at him, being so friendly, letting him talk to her about his classes - all the while setting him up for the smack down. But he wasn’t the harmless nobody she thought he was. He watched as Buffy and Spike ended their kiss and started down the street together, with their arms around each other’s waists, as obscenely close together as they could possibly be and still walk.
In the motel room, Buffy reached for the phone just as Spike reached for her. She smacked his hand, and sighed with exasperation. "I want to make a phone call – I’m going to leave a message on the machine so they don’t worry in the morning. And I want to take a shower first, remember??"
"Go on, then. Fine." Spike backed off with a frown. "I’ll just make myself comfortable." He removed his coat and pulled off his t-shirt, up over his head. He sat on the bed beside Buffy, who was now sitting with the phone receiver in her hand, watching him. He began to remove his shoes.
"I thought you were going to make a phone call," said Spike.
"You are trying to drive me crazy. Go sit on the other side of this bed."
Instead, Spike smiled, and leaned in on her to lower her flat against the bed. She resisted him: "No! I told you a hundred times already. I want to make a call and take a shower first!" She stood up, and let out another exaggerated sigh.
Spike grinned and shook his head, saying nothing. He went back to removing his boots and socks as Buffy dialed. The phone was still ringing when he stood up to unbuckle his belt and drop his pants. No underwear, thought Buffy. Of course not. He wasn’t looking at her; he was folding his clothes neatly onto a chair.
"Hello?"
"Will! I thought –" Buffy tore her eyes away from Spike and turned to face the wall. "I thought the machine would answer it."
"Oh. I couldn’t sleep. Still having a little trouble with that. So I’m up cleaning the kitchen, believe it or not. Where are you? I thought you’d be home by now."
"I – I’m out with some friends from work. I may spend most of the night out. I’m just calling so you don’t worry."
"Well, it’s good you’re socializing. Letting yourself have some real fun."
Spike came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He started to nuzzle her neck. Buffy did her best to ignore him and stay focused on the conversation. "OK, then – listen, I’ve got to go – we’ll talk tomorrow. You – you try to get some sleep."
"Sure. Thanks, Buffy. You try to have some fun."
"OK, Bye then."
"Bye, Buffy."
Buffy turned around to face Spike. He kissed her immediately. She pulled away. "No! I want to shower first. What does a girl have to do, wear a sign?"
"How about some company in the shower then?" He was still grabbing at her, getting his hands up under her clothes, his arms back around her waist, kissing her neck.
"No!" She pushed him again. "I want to shower alone - a serious, doing-it-to-get-clean, relaxing, shower!’ He had stepped back, well away from her, forcing Buffy to close her eyes and turn away so as not to look at him. "And if you don’t stop this, I’m leaving to take that shower at home."
"Fine. I won’t touch you until you’re out of the shower."
"Thank you!" Buffy sat on the bed to take off her shoes, and then she got up to walk toward the bathroom.
"What?" Spike frowned, sounding put out. "You’re gonna undress in there?"
Buffy slammed the door shut, locked it, and turned on the shower. She undressed and took a long shower, muttering to herself at first, about both Greg and Spike, wondering how they would feel, how any man would feel, if he had to spend just one day in her skin – running the gauntlet, every day. Every single day.
Buffy came back into the room with a short, white bath towel wrapped around her body. Spike was lying under the covers, sitting up, watching the television. He snapped off the TV with the remote.
"I thought you’d never get out of there. Why don’t you take that towel off?"
Buffy did just that, and then she turned off the lights before climbing into bed for the promised pummeling . . .
She felt as if she had barely begun her deep, post-coital sleep when Spike shook her gently awake again. "Buffy, listen – it’s about 5AM. I made some coffee in the coffeemaker and I’m gonna go out and get us some muffins or bagels or something, OK?"
Buffy sat up. "OK. Thanks."
"Then I’m gonna try to get outta here with enough time to get home before the sun comes up. You can stay and sleep if you want to. It’s paid up until 11 AM."
"Hmm. I’ll probably just leave when you do. Get more sleep at home."
"All right. Coffee’s over there on the dresser. I’ll be back soon."
Spike hadn’t been gone a minute before there was a quiet knock at the door. Buffy grabbed her bath towel and pulled it around her, wondering what he had forgotten.
She opened the door. There stood Greg. He was holding his right hand out toward her, palm up. He blew a handful of very fine bluish powder off of his palm and toward her face.
"What the -?"
"Let she who deals in scorn, know the curse, of the horn," said Greg. He gave her a fierce look of triumph and ran off.
Buffy nearly ran after him, but her bare feet and very short, barely secured towel gave her pause. She shut the door and started toward the bathroom to wash off her face. But she made it only halfway across the room before she crumpled to the ground and passed out.
Less than two minutes later, Buffy was awake again. She stumbled to her feet. She looked at her arms. She looked down at her legs and torso. She ran to the bathroom mirror and stifled a scream, nearly overcome with panic. She still had her own eyes, and her own nose - but her eyebrows were much thicker, her hair was much shorter, and her jaw-line was much heavier. And stubblier. She had turned into a man.
***
End of Chapter 1
Buffy left her shift at The DoubleMeat Palace with the intention of heading straight home. But she had just walked the two blocks into a residential area when she realized there was someone behind her. She sighed and turned around.
"Spi-"
But it wasn’t Spike. It was a young man named Greg, a student at UC-Sunnydale and a frequent customer at The DoubleMeat Palace.
"Sorry to startle you, Buffy," said Greg, as he approached her. He smiled sheepishly and looked away from her. "I deliberately waited for you to get off work, but then I didn’t have the nerve to go up to you right away."
"The nerve?"
"I thought maybe you’d wanna go get a cup of coffee or something with me?"
Buffy smiled at him. She’d suspected he might be interested in her, but she hadn’t given him any encouragement beyond the mildest of everyday flirtation. And she knew, from the uninvited, unwanted - but undeniable - lurch of disappointment she’d just felt at the sight of Greg, that she wasn’t ready to give up Spike. And Lord knows what he would do if she tried to date others while she was still with him. It didn’t matter - she’d never known how to juggle more than one man a time.
"That’s nice of you, Greg," said Buffy, putting extra weariness in her voice, "but it’s nearly 1 AM. I’m really tired and all I want to do is go home. I worked a double shift."
"Oh. Right." Greg walked around to face her and stop her in her tracks. His face had hardened. "I’ve seen you leave with that blonde guy before, even after a double-shift. You’re never too tired for him."
"What??" Buffy was stunned and alarmed at his words, and at the change in his tone.
"You think I don’t know what he is? Girls like you tease guys like me, then they act like they’re too good, but they’re not. You can’t even imagine what it’s like for a regular guy to get a come-on from a girl like you, just so he can get shot down."
"You’d better get out of my way," said Buffy, deadly serious. She was seconds away from punching him to the ground.
But Greg didn’t budge. "Like you’re too good for me? Like you think I don’t know? I know what he is."
"Well, if you know what I am –" Buffy heard Spike’s gravelly voice and turned around to see him coming up behind her, looking right at Greg, "then you know you’d best leave."
Greg began to back away from Buffy, but he gave her one last look: "This isn’t over."
Spike rushed forward, roaring: "It had damn well better be over!" He gave chase for a block or so, as Greg ran away at top speed. But Buffy caught up to Spike and grabbed his arm:
"Stop! Just let him go!"
Spike turned toward her. "That guy needs every idea he’s ever had scared out of him."
"I think that’s already been accomplished. Besides, what would you do to him if you caught him, Mr. Chips?"
"I figured you’d do the pummeling."
"I’m too tired for pummeling. All pummeled out."
"Too bad. I was gonna invite you over to my place for a little . . . pummeling. Huh?" He put an arm around her waist and bent forward to give her ear a tiny nibble. "C’mon."
Buffy turned toward Spike, but didn’t answer right away. He had both his arms around her waist now, and was nibbling again at her ear, whispering into it, "C’mon. Come home with me."
Buffy’s body was telling her two different things, and her mind, as usual, wasn’t even entering into the equation:
"No." She moved out of his arms and faced him. "Not the crypt. I’m tired and I’m smelly and I want to go home where there’s running water for a hot shower as soon as I get home, and my nice, soft, NOT dank and underground bed to sleep in, and a coffeemaker to make fresh coffee in the morning, and a toaster to toast my bagel. All those things humans need."
"I got needs, too," Spike put his arms around her waist again, and pulled her forward, firmly against him. He leaned into her ear again: "C’mon, Slayer."
"NO!" She shoved him hard, away from her. "Can’t men EVER just take no for an answer? I just worked a double-shift at the DoubleMeat, and all I want to do is go home and sleep – but first I’ve got to listen to a guy talk like I owe him a date, then I’ve got to listen to you act like I owe you a . . . pummeling! What is wrong with you guys??"
"You’re comparing me to him??"
"You know - do you think it feels all that different to me?" Buffy shook her head. "It’s always the same old thing with men. It’s always about one thing. So I say no, but it’s like I’m not allowed to. I told you that I can’t handle going to the crypt right now. What is so hard to understand about that?"
"You want a hot shower and a coffeemaker, I got some money for a motel room." Spike tilted his head at her, looking at her quizzically; very seriously, his eyes alive and full of promise.
Buffy stared at him, then reached for the lapels of his coat to bring him toward her. She threw her arms around his neck and kissed him hard. "Why didn’t you say so?" she said, "Willow knew I’d be working really late so she promised to stay home with Dawn tonight. I can be away." She kissed him again.
Greg had circled back around. From a distance, behind a tree, he watched as Buffy kissed Spike, backing him toward a tree as if she’d do it with him right there on the sidewalk. Yet not 5 minutes ago, she’d said she was too tired to go for coffee. Greg had eaten at that wretched place almost every night for three weeks after the first time he’d seen her. She had smiled at him, being so friendly, letting him talk to her about his classes - all the while setting him up for the smack down. But he wasn’t the harmless nobody she thought he was. He watched as Buffy and Spike ended their kiss and started down the street together, with their arms around each other’s waists, as obscenely close together as they could possibly be and still walk.
In the motel room, Buffy reached for the phone just as Spike reached for her. She smacked his hand, and sighed with exasperation. "I want to make a phone call – I’m going to leave a message on the machine so they don’t worry in the morning. And I want to take a shower first, remember??"
"Go on, then. Fine." Spike backed off with a frown. "I’ll just make myself comfortable." He removed his coat and pulled off his t-shirt, up over his head. He sat on the bed beside Buffy, who was now sitting with the phone receiver in her hand, watching him. He began to remove his shoes.
"I thought you were going to make a phone call," said Spike.
"You are trying to drive me crazy. Go sit on the other side of this bed."
Instead, Spike smiled, and leaned in on her to lower her flat against the bed. She resisted him: "No! I told you a hundred times already. I want to make a call and take a shower first!" She stood up, and let out another exaggerated sigh.
Spike grinned and shook his head, saying nothing. He went back to removing his boots and socks as Buffy dialed. The phone was still ringing when he stood up to unbuckle his belt and drop his pants. No underwear, thought Buffy. Of course not. He wasn’t looking at her; he was folding his clothes neatly onto a chair.
"Hello?"
"Will! I thought –" Buffy tore her eyes away from Spike and turned to face the wall. "I thought the machine would answer it."
"Oh. I couldn’t sleep. Still having a little trouble with that. So I’m up cleaning the kitchen, believe it or not. Where are you? I thought you’d be home by now."
"I – I’m out with some friends from work. I may spend most of the night out. I’m just calling so you don’t worry."
"Well, it’s good you’re socializing. Letting yourself have some real fun."
Spike came up behind her and slipped his arms around her waist. He started to nuzzle her neck. Buffy did her best to ignore him and stay focused on the conversation. "OK, then – listen, I’ve got to go – we’ll talk tomorrow. You – you try to get some sleep."
"Sure. Thanks, Buffy. You try to have some fun."
"OK, Bye then."
"Bye, Buffy."
Buffy turned around to face Spike. He kissed her immediately. She pulled away. "No! I want to shower first. What does a girl have to do, wear a sign?"
"How about some company in the shower then?" He was still grabbing at her, getting his hands up under her clothes, his arms back around her waist, kissing her neck.
"No!" She pushed him again. "I want to shower alone - a serious, doing-it-to-get-clean, relaxing, shower!’ He had stepped back, well away from her, forcing Buffy to close her eyes and turn away so as not to look at him. "And if you don’t stop this, I’m leaving to take that shower at home."
"Fine. I won’t touch you until you’re out of the shower."
"Thank you!" Buffy sat on the bed to take off her shoes, and then she got up to walk toward the bathroom.
"What?" Spike frowned, sounding put out. "You’re gonna undress in there?"
Buffy slammed the door shut, locked it, and turned on the shower. She undressed and took a long shower, muttering to herself at first, about both Greg and Spike, wondering how they would feel, how any man would feel, if he had to spend just one day in her skin – running the gauntlet, every day. Every single day.
Buffy came back into the room with a short, white bath towel wrapped around her body. Spike was lying under the covers, sitting up, watching the television. He snapped off the TV with the remote.
"I thought you’d never get out of there. Why don’t you take that towel off?"
Buffy did just that, and then she turned off the lights before climbing into bed for the promised pummeling . . .
She felt as if she had barely begun her deep, post-coital sleep when Spike shook her gently awake again. "Buffy, listen – it’s about 5AM. I made some coffee in the coffeemaker and I’m gonna go out and get us some muffins or bagels or something, OK?"
Buffy sat up. "OK. Thanks."
"Then I’m gonna try to get outta here with enough time to get home before the sun comes up. You can stay and sleep if you want to. It’s paid up until 11 AM."
"Hmm. I’ll probably just leave when you do. Get more sleep at home."
"All right. Coffee’s over there on the dresser. I’ll be back soon."
Spike hadn’t been gone a minute before there was a quiet knock at the door. Buffy grabbed her bath towel and pulled it around her, wondering what he had forgotten.
She opened the door. There stood Greg. He was holding his right hand out toward her, palm up. He blew a handful of very fine bluish powder off of his palm and toward her face.
"What the -?"
"Let she who deals in scorn, know the curse, of the horn," said Greg. He gave her a fierce look of triumph and ran off.
Buffy nearly ran after him, but her bare feet and very short, barely secured towel gave her pause. She shut the door and started toward the bathroom to wash off her face. But she made it only halfway across the room before she crumpled to the ground and passed out.
Less than two minutes later, Buffy was awake again. She stumbled to her feet. She looked at her arms. She looked down at her legs and torso. She ran to the bathroom mirror and stifled a scream, nearly overcome with panic. She still had her own eyes, and her own nose - but her eyebrows were much thicker, her hair was much shorter, and her jaw-line was much heavier. And stubblier. She had turned into a man.
***
End of Chapter 1