The Other Half Lives
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 5 – Normal Conditions
(Spring)
by Patti, Rae, Rob, and Spring - Summer of 2003
Chapter 5 – Normal Conditions
(Spring)
Greg blinked. Buff was no longer barefoot and wearing the shredded DoubleMeat palace uniform. She had changed into sneakers, a pair of jeans and a Dingoes T-shirt that Willow had stored away – they had once belonged to Oz (she was also, unfortunately, going commando, since no one had underwear that would fit her properly).
Without the telltale uniform, Greg did not recognize Buffy - given her new manly proportions and dark stubbly chin.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"Faith!" roared Buffy in her deep tones, looking around desperately.
"Where’s Faith?"
"Uh – I saw her go toward the work-out room . . ." said Dawn, as she hurried to the back of the store, calling for Faith.
"Listen, buddy," began Greg, glaring at Buffy, "I’m just looking for –"
Giles seized the moment to step up to Greg. "What is it you’re looking for sir?"
"More lanthium powder. I bought some here before."
"SPIKE!!" Buffy ran toward the stairwell and down the stairs to find Spike.
Giles continued: "Certainly." He punched Greg forcefully and squarely in the nose, knocking him neatly to the floor.
Spike, in game-face, came rushing up the stairs with Buffy. "Well," said Spike, "Looks like the genteel shopkeeper got a little rough on one of his customers. I like it."
Two remaining Clearance Sale customers stared from Spike to Giles. "We’re closed," said Giles. The wide-eyed customers rushed toward the door.
"Have a nice day!" called Anya gaily as she locked The Magic Box door behind them, and put up the CLOSED sign.
Dawn returned to report that Faith had apparently already left for work through the back door. The conscious, but slumped and badly shaken Greg offered no resistance as Anya helped Giles tie him to a chair.
"Let’s slap him," suggested Anya.
"All in due time," said Giles.
Buffy, Dawn, Tara, and Spike stood watching. Buffy noticed that Anya’s form fitting skirt cupped her behind in a very fetching manner, and that her scoop necked blouse allowed the top of her breasts to show as she bent forward to secure a rope on Greg’s leg.
She had never noticed how round and firm – "Oh, no," said Buffy.
Buffy pulled Spike aside. "Spike – I’m . . . I’m changing more and more into a man!"
Spike, back in human-face, raised a brow "From what I’ve seen – or felt – or – whatever - there’s nothin’ left to change, Buff."
"But – I just noticed Anya’s butt and breasts! And it gave me . . . funny feelings. Funny . . . funny stirry feelings! ‘
"Oh. You mean the way her skirt does that thing? Yeah. And that blouse too, of course . . . don’t feel bad, mate. There’s isn’t a man alive or dead wouldn’t react."
Buffy drove her square, hairy-knuckled fist into Spike’s arm, "Shut up! And don’t call me ‘mate’!"
Greg was sitting up now, and Tara called to Buffy and Spike, "Get over here, guys! The interrogation is about to start."
"Don’t call me ‘guy’!" protested Buffy to Tara, as she pushed past Giles and Anya to squat down in front of Greg’s chair. She was inches from his face. "Hi Greg," Buff intoned, "It’s me. Buffy."
"Yeah. I figured that when I saw your boyfriend."
"He is not my – " Buffy paused. "Look. Greg. You did this to me and you are going to undo it!" Buffy was finding that squatting in tight jeans with no underwear was not such a smart idea. She stood up and tugged at her inseam.
"I can’t turn you back into a girl, if that’s what you mean," said Greg.
"Oh, I think you bloody well can turn her back," said Spike, "unless you’d like to be turned into a girl also – the messy way."
Giles removed his glasses and polished them clean. "Now Spike, really. Such a procedure would be the last resort." He looked at Anya. "Do you think those scissors you keep by the wrapping paper are sharp enough?"
Anya brightened. "Quite possibly!! And in the drawer, I have some scissors that give you that nice, zig-zaggy edge! Very attractive."
Greg blanched. "I – I would turn her back if I could. Honest!! But I can’t. Only Buffy can turn herself back into a girl."
"Explain yourself," said Giles, fixing him with a threatening stare.
Greg gulped. "It’s not a permanent spell. It’s just until Buffy finds out what it’s like being a guy. Just a regular, every day, normal guy."
"But I’ve already found out! I’ve . . . I’ve gotten all . . . all . . . swollen and I’ve peed, and I’ve been talking with this deep voice, and I’m wearing men’s clothes and . . . what’s left?"
"You could try shaving," suggested Dawn, as she raked a finger over Buff’s rough cheek.
"Drinking beer?" suggested Tara.
"Or possibly masturbating," added Anya, nodding her head enthusiastically.
Giles winced. "I doubt that’s what our hostage here is referring to," he said.
"No – not shaving or beer drinking or . . . anything like that!" confirmed Greg. Noticing Giles’ more subdued tone, Greg felt a glimmer of hope that he might yet keep all his parts and pieces. "The spell is just until she finds out what it’s like to try to be a nice guy, but to want women all the time because you can’t help it, and have them act as untouchable and stuck up to you as she does."
"What??" roared Buff. She looked around for support, but found everyone, (including Spike!) looking away from her.
"You are kinda stuck-up, Buffy," said Dawn.
Buff pounded her boxy, hammy fist down on the table. Her baritone hit a tenor’s pitch: "I am not stuck up!! And I do not deserve THIS –" Buffy gestured toward her torso – "because I turned down a guy for coffee!!!"
"Maybe not, luv," said Spike, "but it looks like it’s what you got."
"What?? OH!!! I am so mad I could just spit!!" Buffy sputtered. Then she paused and contemplated. "And you know, I think I mean that literally."
"Try it," said Anya, "might be another mark toward being more of a regular guy and getting your . . . girl thing . . . things . . . back."
"She should try scratching, also," added Dawn.
"And loud belching, maybe?" Tara volunteered.
"And how about how they always act like they know stuff, even when they don’t?" continued Dawn, "and they’re bossy a lot."
"Yes, and definitely," Anya said, turning to Buffy, "avoid picking up a sock at all costs."
"Maybe Buffy should also try being quiet for more than two seconds," added Spike.
"Yes." Giles shook his head and frowned at Anya. "Let’s try to get to the point here." He turned to Greg and bent down to look him right in the eye. "Now I want to know just exactly what Buffy needs to do."
"Well . . ." Greg’s anxiety returned and he twitched nervously in his restraints. She – uh HE – should just go out there and live as a guy. Try to get the attention of a girl or two that he likes, just by being nice and regular and low key. Ask them out, that sort of thing. Find out what it’s like to get shot down by a girl like her."
"Oh my God, NO!!" said Buffy. "I can’t!"
"But Buffy still likes guys," said Dawn.
"Actually . . . that’s been . . . changing too," Buffy confessed, looking down, with sorrow and embarrassment, at her large, Flintstone-style feet.
Just then there was a noisy knocking at the door. They heard Xander’s loud voice: "Anybody in there? It’s me and Willow!"
In short order, Xander and Willow were filled in about all the goings on. Willow sighed, "If he’s done a conditional spell like that, then I think he’s right – the conditions are going to have to be fulfilled."
Buffy sat down at the table and lowered her shiny mop-top down onto her hairy arms. She began crying – again with the big, honking, man sounds.
Giles turned away from the terrible bellowing and reached into Greg’s back pocket to pull out his wallet. "Anya, copy down his information in case we should need to get a hold of him again." He handed the wallet to Anya.
He untied Greg as Anya copied the information. Giles took the wallet back from Anya, handed it to Greg, and escorted him to the door, "If you ever come near Buffy again, you won’t live past the hour," he said.
Greg ran.
Xander sat down near Buffy, and patted her on the back. "It’ll be OK, Buff. You can do it!"
Buffy lifted her head and ran a hand over her five-o’clock shadow. Her Adam’s apple trembled: "But what if I ask out girls like me, and they keep saying yes??"
Xander looked over the attractive, but very normal, safe, all-American looking Buff. "Don’t worry," he said, "it’ll never happen."
***
End of Chapter 5
Without the telltale uniform, Greg did not recognize Buffy - given her new manly proportions and dark stubbly chin.
"Do I know you?" he asked.
"Faith!" roared Buffy in her deep tones, looking around desperately.
"Where’s Faith?"
"Uh – I saw her go toward the work-out room . . ." said Dawn, as she hurried to the back of the store, calling for Faith.
"Listen, buddy," began Greg, glaring at Buffy, "I’m just looking for –"
Giles seized the moment to step up to Greg. "What is it you’re looking for sir?"
"More lanthium powder. I bought some here before."
"SPIKE!!" Buffy ran toward the stairwell and down the stairs to find Spike.
Giles continued: "Certainly." He punched Greg forcefully and squarely in the nose, knocking him neatly to the floor.
Spike, in game-face, came rushing up the stairs with Buffy. "Well," said Spike, "Looks like the genteel shopkeeper got a little rough on one of his customers. I like it."
Two remaining Clearance Sale customers stared from Spike to Giles. "We’re closed," said Giles. The wide-eyed customers rushed toward the door.
"Have a nice day!" called Anya gaily as she locked The Magic Box door behind them, and put up the CLOSED sign.
Dawn returned to report that Faith had apparently already left for work through the back door. The conscious, but slumped and badly shaken Greg offered no resistance as Anya helped Giles tie him to a chair.
"Let’s slap him," suggested Anya.
"All in due time," said Giles.
Buffy, Dawn, Tara, and Spike stood watching. Buffy noticed that Anya’s form fitting skirt cupped her behind in a very fetching manner, and that her scoop necked blouse allowed the top of her breasts to show as she bent forward to secure a rope on Greg’s leg.
She had never noticed how round and firm – "Oh, no," said Buffy.
Buffy pulled Spike aside. "Spike – I’m . . . I’m changing more and more into a man!"
Spike, back in human-face, raised a brow "From what I’ve seen – or felt – or – whatever - there’s nothin’ left to change, Buff."
"But – I just noticed Anya’s butt and breasts! And it gave me . . . funny feelings. Funny . . . funny stirry feelings! ‘
"Oh. You mean the way her skirt does that thing? Yeah. And that blouse too, of course . . . don’t feel bad, mate. There’s isn’t a man alive or dead wouldn’t react."
Buffy drove her square, hairy-knuckled fist into Spike’s arm, "Shut up! And don’t call me ‘mate’!"
Greg was sitting up now, and Tara called to Buffy and Spike, "Get over here, guys! The interrogation is about to start."
"Don’t call me ‘guy’!" protested Buffy to Tara, as she pushed past Giles and Anya to squat down in front of Greg’s chair. She was inches from his face. "Hi Greg," Buff intoned, "It’s me. Buffy."
"Yeah. I figured that when I saw your boyfriend."
"He is not my – " Buffy paused. "Look. Greg. You did this to me and you are going to undo it!" Buffy was finding that squatting in tight jeans with no underwear was not such a smart idea. She stood up and tugged at her inseam.
"I can’t turn you back into a girl, if that’s what you mean," said Greg.
"Oh, I think you bloody well can turn her back," said Spike, "unless you’d like to be turned into a girl also – the messy way."
Giles removed his glasses and polished them clean. "Now Spike, really. Such a procedure would be the last resort." He looked at Anya. "Do you think those scissors you keep by the wrapping paper are sharp enough?"
Anya brightened. "Quite possibly!! And in the drawer, I have some scissors that give you that nice, zig-zaggy edge! Very attractive."
Greg blanched. "I – I would turn her back if I could. Honest!! But I can’t. Only Buffy can turn herself back into a girl."
"Explain yourself," said Giles, fixing him with a threatening stare.
Greg gulped. "It’s not a permanent spell. It’s just until Buffy finds out what it’s like being a guy. Just a regular, every day, normal guy."
"But I’ve already found out! I’ve . . . I’ve gotten all . . . all . . . swollen and I’ve peed, and I’ve been talking with this deep voice, and I’m wearing men’s clothes and . . . what’s left?"
"You could try shaving," suggested Dawn, as she raked a finger over Buff’s rough cheek.
"Drinking beer?" suggested Tara.
"Or possibly masturbating," added Anya, nodding her head enthusiastically.
Giles winced. "I doubt that’s what our hostage here is referring to," he said.
"No – not shaving or beer drinking or . . . anything like that!" confirmed Greg. Noticing Giles’ more subdued tone, Greg felt a glimmer of hope that he might yet keep all his parts and pieces. "The spell is just until she finds out what it’s like to try to be a nice guy, but to want women all the time because you can’t help it, and have them act as untouchable and stuck up to you as she does."
"What??" roared Buff. She looked around for support, but found everyone, (including Spike!) looking away from her.
"You are kinda stuck-up, Buffy," said Dawn.
Buff pounded her boxy, hammy fist down on the table. Her baritone hit a tenor’s pitch: "I am not stuck up!! And I do not deserve THIS –" Buffy gestured toward her torso – "because I turned down a guy for coffee!!!"
"Maybe not, luv," said Spike, "but it looks like it’s what you got."
"What?? OH!!! I am so mad I could just spit!!" Buffy sputtered. Then she paused and contemplated. "And you know, I think I mean that literally."
"Try it," said Anya, "might be another mark toward being more of a regular guy and getting your . . . girl thing . . . things . . . back."
"She should try scratching, also," added Dawn.
"And loud belching, maybe?" Tara volunteered.
"And how about how they always act like they know stuff, even when they don’t?" continued Dawn, "and they’re bossy a lot."
"Yes, and definitely," Anya said, turning to Buffy, "avoid picking up a sock at all costs."
"Maybe Buffy should also try being quiet for more than two seconds," added Spike.
"Yes." Giles shook his head and frowned at Anya. "Let’s try to get to the point here." He turned to Greg and bent down to look him right in the eye. "Now I want to know just exactly what Buffy needs to do."
"Well . . ." Greg’s anxiety returned and he twitched nervously in his restraints. She – uh HE – should just go out there and live as a guy. Try to get the attention of a girl or two that he likes, just by being nice and regular and low key. Ask them out, that sort of thing. Find out what it’s like to get shot down by a girl like her."
"Oh my God, NO!!" said Buffy. "I can’t!"
"But Buffy still likes guys," said Dawn.
"Actually . . . that’s been . . . changing too," Buffy confessed, looking down, with sorrow and embarrassment, at her large, Flintstone-style feet.
Just then there was a noisy knocking at the door. They heard Xander’s loud voice: "Anybody in there? It’s me and Willow!"
In short order, Xander and Willow were filled in about all the goings on. Willow sighed, "If he’s done a conditional spell like that, then I think he’s right – the conditions are going to have to be fulfilled."
Buffy sat down at the table and lowered her shiny mop-top down onto her hairy arms. She began crying – again with the big, honking, man sounds.
Giles turned away from the terrible bellowing and reached into Greg’s back pocket to pull out his wallet. "Anya, copy down his information in case we should need to get a hold of him again." He handed the wallet to Anya.
He untied Greg as Anya copied the information. Giles took the wallet back from Anya, handed it to Greg, and escorted him to the door, "If you ever come near Buffy again, you won’t live past the hour," he said.
Greg ran.
Xander sat down near Buffy, and patted her on the back. "It’ll be OK, Buff. You can do it!"
Buffy lifted her head and ran a hand over her five-o’clock shadow. Her Adam’s apple trembled: "But what if I ask out girls like me, and they keep saying yes??"
Xander looked over the attractive, but very normal, safe, all-American looking Buff. "Don’t worry," he said, "it’ll never happen."
***
End of Chapter 5