Xander stood in front of what had been his house. Truth be told, he was rather undecided about the whole thing. True, he had been turned into a girl, 'Not that there's anything wrong with girls, or being a girl, just would much rather have stayed the sex I was born, thank you _very_ much.' But he got out of the place he'd been living in. It hadn't been a home since...well, for a long time now, anyways. The blush had long since worn off of his parents romance...and the 'family life.' His mom...well, his mom had never physically abused him..and
his dad had been weirdly passive ever since that incident during the Hyena possession - possibly his most cherished memory of that time. She walked up to the front of the house, and looked in. Sure enough, there was his pops, asleep in his recliner, ('...that recliner is _mine_, you good fer nuthin idjut! You so much as touch it again, I'll kick your hiney to LA!') half full bottle of cheap vodka in one hand, other on the remote. And there was Mother. Such found memories.
('...you'll be just like your father when you grow up, so help me!' 'Shut up, woman!' [backhand] 'He'll never be a quarter the man I am! Fuckin faery.' [bitchslap]) Asleep on the couch, drooling obscenely, half empty case of Bum's Special Reserve Red Wine on the side table next to her. 'At least I'll never grow up to be my father, now.' She thought bitterly, looking down at her 'assets.' She shrugged, and tried the door. Locked. He didn't have a key. His 'parents' didn't
want to risk him losing it because of his 'irresponsible behavior.' Or at least, that's what they told the cops. 'Hell. Wonder what they'll tell the cops now? Or will they bother?' Xander turned, and went around to the side entrance to the basement, grabbed the key from its hiding place under the eaves (a tch harder now, his arms were shorter, but damn did they look nice), and opened the basement door.
"Ah, home sweet home." She said, quietly, taking an exaggerated sniff of the mildew laden air. She'd moved some of her stuff down here, quietly, over the past few months. Maybe it was nothing, but she'd figured that she'd be moving down to the basement when she graduated -
that is, if mummy and daddy didn't just kick him out. Kind of a moot point now. Moving around inside the cramped basement was a bit challenging - his 'rents had all kinds of weird ass shit down here - like that set of bronzed boxing gloves with her dad's name on them. She snorted and kicked those to a corner. 'Probly stole them, the fat drunken bastard.' Stepping into the tiny bathing area, he examined his new face. On the whole, he decided, not a bad face. Not beautiful, but certainly attractive. 'Hell,' he thought, turning sideways for a profile shot, 'I'd date myself.' The oddness of that thought finally hit home, breaking through the barrier of indifference he'd managed to keep up for the past few hours.
Frantically, he stripped off his clothes, searching for any remaining vestiges of masculinity. There were none. And Little Xander was gone as well. The only thing there was someplace he would have liked to take Little Xander exploring. 'Never have that chance now.' He thought bitterly, one hand brushing over that bush of hair. 'Dammit. Now why the hell are my nipples tingling?' Looking down, he saw her nipples had increased in size, and were sticking out. 'Huh. Now, why
would they do that?'
***...Some time later...***
'Oh...my...god...' Was his last thought as she drifted off to sleep on the floor, one hand resting on her breast, the other, covered in her juices, resting on her soaking wet groin.
"Boy! You down there, boy?" He yelled. Grumbling to himself, he opened the door, and stumped down the staircase. "Damn loser. Spend fuckin hour and a half in the fuckin shower, fuckin friends calling every half hour, what the hell does he think we are? Answering machines? Fucking pathetic loser. Probly calling to tell him to get lost and never bother him agai- Hello." He stops, in shock at the sight before him. Slowly, he starts to grin. "The boy finally did something right."
A cold, wet thing smacked him in the face. "Five more minutes..." he slurred. Off in the distance he heard someone snort. He felt pretty cold, too.
"Don't imagine you'd be sayin that to m'boy if he was the one down here." That was his dad's voice. "'Course, lookin like you are now, pretty much says everythin."
She jerked awake, the cold washcloth sliding down her face and landing in her lap. She grabbed it and the towel that was laying underneath her and tried to wrap it around herself, backing away from her father, eyes wide.
"Relax. Don't know what the boy told you, but I'm not gonna do anything." He leers good- naturedly at her, taking a swig from his beer bottle. "'Cept maybe look. Get cleaned up, get dressed, and get out." He looks around. "Nothin' against you, but if the boys mother finds you down here, there'll be hell to pay. And the boy won't be the one paying." He takes another swig, stands up, and heads for the stairwell.
Xander shudders, goosebumps trickling across her body, almost paralyzed from shock where she sits. He reaches the stairwell, and turns around. "Two more things, girl. One, don't let the boy crawl into a bottle like I did." He empties his beer and tosses the bottle into a nearby trash can, also full of empties. "Two, you are extremely fuckable. I got no idea how the hell the boy managed to get you." He stumps up the stairs.
Panicking, and skin crawling in revulsion, he tosses some clothes on before running out the door. A few seconds later, he cautiously peeks in, walks back inside quietly, and starts gathering her essentials together (clothes, toothbrush, her herbal shampoos, the fifty dollars stashed inside a empty roll of TP in a bucket of cleaning supplies, his rarest comic books...), before rushing out in a panic again.
"Giles!" She yelled, her back to Giles door, one hand pounding rythmically against it. Her eyes darted back and forth like a hunted animal searching for cover, her chest heaving from her run over to the apartment. "Open the doo-!" The door opens suddenly, and she almost falls backwards through it, but manages to catch herself somewhat ungracefully just before she would have collapsed in an undignified heap by grabbing on to Giles shoulders.
Giles tries, mostly unsuccessfully, to hide the loaded crossbow behind his back. "What-?" He started to ask, before he had to help hold Xander up when she fell in through the door. He quickly looked around to see what was surely chasing Xander to cause him...her to
react like this. The only thing he saw was a shy looking college boy at the end of the hallway. He looks down at Xander. "Wha-" He starts, before his tongue gets tangled up in itself. Quickly, he pulls Xander inside, and shuts the door gently but firmly in the face of the shy college student approaching, pen and pad of paper in hand. Releasing her, and taking a step backward, he closes his eyes and begins to massage his forehead with one hand. "Xander, for the love of God, tell me you didn't walk from your house to here like that."
"Wha-? No, I didn't walk all the way, I ran part of it. Why? What's wrong with how I'm dressed? And why was everyone staring at me? It was freaking me out."
Giles sighs. The undershirt would have been fine on Xander's former body, but on a female body that was every bit as broad shouldered and muscular, with the addition of a rather sizable chest...it was obvious she wasn't wearing a bra. "Xander...that shirt. It's a bit tight."
"Yeah, I know. Willow shrunk it in the wash accidentally.(1)" He looks down at herself. "Oh." And then in an entirely different tone of voice, "Damn. No wonder people were staring." He thrust her chest forward, almost as if he was presenting them for inspection.
"Xander..." Giles said in a strangled tone, eyes closed again.
"What?" Xander responded from where he was admiring her body.
"Please, concentrate on the task at hand."
"Sorry. Didn't mean to make things hard for you." Xander winces as he realizes what he said.
Giles made that strangled noise again. "Yes. Right. Now then. We need to develop a plan to allow you to continue your life..."
(1) And if you believe that, I've got a bridge that I can sell you. Make a good price on it, just for you, eh?