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Summary: Ethan Rayne has a lot to answer for. Xander wants to be first in line to make him pay.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Charmed > Xander-Centered > Pairing: Chris HalliwelltootsFR1599,035264868,50516 Aug 0816 Aug 08Yes
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Chapter Three: Party at P³

Chapter Three: Party at P³

Two and a half months as a woman, and Xander was still trying to figure out where the joy in it was. On the last day of Xander’s first period, Giles had stuck them on a plane from England to L.A. with four layovers in between. Xander decided Giles was a sadist. Three Slayers, one over-caffeinated Wiccan, one bitchy Seer, and an extra hyper Dawn all stuck in a tin can flying across the Atlantic Ocean. Either it was a bad joke or a bad horror flick in the making, Xander still, weeks later, hadn’t decided.

The mess in L.A. had been large, even a year and a half later. The crater where Wolfram and Hart had stood was impressive and ugly. Going out after dark in L.A. was more dangerous than licking plutonium. Xander, everyone was thankful, managed to embrace the Slayer part of him even if he couldn’t accept the woman parts of him. Three Slayers and the Wicca of Sunnydale made all the beasties run for cover. Add in that two of the Slayers were the oldest two in existence and the third fought like she’d always been at their side and the demons were terrified. Word got out, too, that Sunnydalers were cleaning up L.A. and most evil beings seemed to decide it was no longer open season on the City of Angels.

Giles had been right, though. There had been survivors from Angel’s crew. Honestly, only Gunn seemed to have suffered anything permanent. Spike and Angel goggled a bit at Xander’s new feminized form while a newly Immortal Wesley rattled on about the Rites and how lucky Xander was until Xander smacked him into a wall. Illyria’s eyebrows rose but she didn’t make a fuss. Wesley could take a beating, now.

Shouting, “I’d rather have my penis!” was probably not the way to apologize but, really, nobody really blamed Xander. New powers plus new body did not equal stable state of mind, everyone knew.

Gunn shook his cane at Wesley. “And let that be a lesson to you: a man’s penis is his pride and joy. No damn ritual is worth losing it.”

Dawn rolled her eyes. “Can’t you feel the love of womanhood? Jeez, it’s not that bad.”

“Name one good thing about it,” Xander demanded, hands on curvy hips.

“Multiple orgasms,” Faith said instantly.

Gunn grinned at her. “A woman who knows the long and short of it. How nice.”

“At ease, Charlie boy, you might break something,” Faith snorted even as she smiled slyly at him.

The combined forces of Angel’s crew, which included Angel’s surprise teenage son, and the Council’s team wiped out the majority of the troublemaking demons. The Council team moved on, heading north and leaving the city in its Champions’ hands. Dawn was giddy for days, sneaking off to the back of the R.V. to hold whispered and giggly conversations with Xander hoped was either Connor or Gunn. He couldn’t take it if Dawn’s first big love was Angel or Spike. Connor, by association, was pushing Xander’s boundaries but the kid got a pass for having such a messed up start and turning himself around.

The next big hunting spree started in San Francisco. Willow’d magicked a map to track major movements of evil and San Francisco had popped up red hot. The first night there, though, Faith demanded a night off for dancing and doing the dirty.

“We promised Xan we’d help him find the joy,” she said, right before Cordelia started to glow. Everybody got quiet. They’d gotten mildly used to Cordelia’s little communiqués with the Powers That Be.

The glow faded and she said, “It’s nothing important. We should party tonight.”

Which was how Xander came to be standing in the dance club P³, wearing the tightest leather skirt and the dinkiest excuse for a top and the tallest pair of platform steel toed boots the girls could manage to cram him into. He made a gorgeous woman, he knew that. (And was privately very freaked out by that.) He was an odd mix, legs, lots of legs topped by curves and ending with an oval face with expressive brown eyes and pretty lips and gently curling hair that swung just past his chin.

The boots weren’t an issue only because Cordelia had spent that month in England making him practice wearing heels, short skirts, and shirts that could induce a wardrobe malfunction faster than Xander could say “no way.” She wasn’t about to let him embarrass himself as a woman. He was her guinea pig and he would not embarrass her. He’d turned to Willow for support but she’d pointed down to her own three inch wedge heels and raised an eyebrow.

Faith looped her arm around his neck, having to stretch up to say, “We’re getting you laid tonight.”

And now Xander was officially freaked out. “You might be forgetting, but I think this body is a virgin.”

Faith rolled her eyes. “You gotta pop it some time, Xan. The sooner you do, the less nervous you’ll be.”

“What if I don’t want to have sex with a guy?” He countered.

She smiled up at him, though. A real smile, one of the ones she gave only to people she cared about. “I’ve never said anything. Wasn’t my place. But I’ve seen you check Giles’ ass out. And those trips to the bathroom when we used to go Bronzing didn’t just have to do with our collective hotness. Oz playing guitar or Angel off broodin’ in a corner did it for you to.” She tightened her arm around his neck when he went to move away. “It’s cool, Xan. You dig girls, we know. But you dig guys, too. You should at least try’em out.”

Cordelia came over and pointed to a guy arguing with the bartender and two women sitting beside him. “That one. That’s the one.” She waved her hand at Xander. “He’s your prince. So sayeth I, your Queen C. Go rock his world.”

Xander stilled. “That vision was nothing, huh?”

Cordelia rolled her eyes. “Not everything is supernatural, Alexandria. Now go hit on him. Ask him to buy you a drink. No, no alcohol. Ask him to dance. No, you’re spastic. Ask him to talk, then shove your boobs in his face. He should follow you anywhere, then. You’ve got great boobs.” She looked down. “Mine are better, but still. Great boobs.”

Willow bounced over. “What are we doing?”

“Getting Xan laid,” Faith said, arm still tucked around his neck. “By a guy,” she added just to see the look on Red’s face.

Willow just raised an eyebrow, though. “Which guy?”

Cordelia pointed again. “That one. With the flippy hair and the eyes and, seriously, those lips.”

“Nice,” Dawn said, walking up with Buffy in time to catch Willow’s question and Cordelia’s answer. “Who’s he for?”

“Xander,” Willow answered, nodding her head.

“Really?” Buffy said, tilting her head to study the guy. “I always thought Xander’s type of guys were, well, quieter. Angel and Oz and, oh hey, Graham. And that one guy from chem.”

Xander clenched his eyes shut. “This is a nightmare. My friends haven’t gone insane. They don’t know my last, greatest secret. And, bonus, I’m not a woman. All of this is just a nightmare.” He opened his eyes to see five faces looking at him expectantly. “Or it’s real and I’m screwed.”

“Well, not yet,” Dawn said. “But we’re working on it.”

While the girls argued the best manner of approach, Xander looked over at the guy in time to see one of the women beside him touch his arm and hiccup really hard. She looked around, startled, and her eyes widened when they landed on Xander. She leaned into the guy and started whispering frantically. The guy looked over and, okay, Cordelia had nice taste. Really nice taste.

The guy smiled slowly and Xander’s eyes widened.

Cordelia nudged Xander and said, “Or we could just wait for him to notice the hotness that is girly Xander,” as the guy said something to the women then walked towards him.

Xander was glad the music was loud because that was definitely a whimper he let out. Long and lanky and, goddess be praised, just muscley enough to look good, Mr. Lips was just Xander’s type.

“I’m Chris,” the guy said smiling, and Xander heard Dawn mutter, “Damn, me likey.” Xander likey, too. “You wanna dance?”

“Oh no,” Xander protested, shaking his head. “I don’t dance. I flail. To the rhythm but still, flailing is flailing. And dangerous, too. I don’t want to get sued. Not that I’ve ever been sued, but I’ve never really danced either. I mean, I’ve danced-”

“Excuse Xander,” Cordelia cut in, rolling her eyes. “It’s been awhile since she’s dated and her ex was the stay at home type. And she doesn’t dance, but she does talk. Why don’t you guys go talk? Privately.”

Chris grinned and nodded towards some of the seating in the corner. “You wanna talk, then?”

Xander nodded, at a loss for what to say. Hi, I’m a man in a woman’s body. What do you do for a living? didn’t seem to be the kind of thing he should lead with. It might be a little off putting. Then Chris put his hand at the small of Xander’s bare back and Xander had to worry about not drooling. There were calluses in just the right spots and Xander decided that maybe he could handle getting laid by those hands. At least by the guy those hands came attached to.

Chris led them over to one of the overstuffed couches and sat. Xander followed him down, careful to shut his knees so no one got a view they weren’t supposed to. Cordelia was a harsh task master when it came to stuff like that. Xander glanced at Chris through a curtain of dark hair and Chris was watching him with that little smile.

“Do you wanna have sex?” Xander blurted then winced. Really, though, the only people he’d ever had sex with had come to him. And neither of them had had orthodox ways of asking for it, either, now that he thought about it.

Chris looked startled but stood and held out a hand, saying, “I’m staying in the back. We should definitely move this to a more private setting.”

Xander took his hand and let him lead him towards the back of the club, widening his eyes at Faith as he passed. She shot him a thumbs up then turned and downed a whiskey shooter.

Chris shut the door behind them and Xander babbled, “This is just going to be a one night thing, okay? I mean, I don’t do this. Often, I don’t do this often. Okay, at all. But my ex- And my friends- And you’re just-”

Chris laid a finger over Xander’s mouth. “We can just talk, if that’s what you want. I won’t tell your friends any different, I promise.”

And that was all it took. Xander launched himself at Chris, lips locking and finally starting to see the joy of being a woman. Because boobies were again novel, nipples were awesome, and the right set of fingers between a woman’s thighs, well, that was heaven. And the multiple orgasms? Were God’s gift to women. Everything else might be sucktastic but the sex was every synonym for awesome Webster’s could come up with. And it turned out that Xander’s girl body either wasn’t a virgin or the pain was so small, he didn’t even notice. Xander wasn’t afraid to admit, though, at least to himself, that his favorite part was the cuddling. Chris was a cuddler. A muscley, green-eyed cutie of a cuddler. He would make some real girl very lucky someday.

Xander sighed and kissed Chris’s bare chest before carefully easing off of him and quietly pulled his girly cloths onto his girly body and walked out barefoot to keep from waking him. It’d been a good night, a release that he’d needed, and Chris was a good guy. But he was a guy that liked girls, Xander could tell. Lots of girls. And, in nine months and two weeks, Xander wasn’t going to be a girl anymore.

Quote: Nymphomaniac: A woman who thinks about sex as much as the average man.

-Mignon McLaughlin
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