Buffy's having a really strange day.
Chapter three, in which there's some plot advancement and so forth, so the rating is only PG this time. 859 words. Characters, in order of appearance: Buffy and Willow. Chapter One is here.
Ch. 3: In which Buffy has breakfast
When she finally emerged from the bathroom, she peered cautiously around the door, half-scared that Willow would be standing there with a big grin chanting "I know what you're do-ing!" But luckily, there was no sign of her. Buffy scampered quickly into her bedroom, slammed the door and dropped the towel she'd wrapped around herself.
She felt her chin; definitely stubbly, but she thought she could get away with it a while longer. She'd better get dressed and see how the research was progressing.
Her underwear drawer was open and she was already putting her arms through the straps of her bra before she realised the pointlessness of that garment. She dropped it back and gazed dubiously at her knickers. She liked them small and sexy, filmy little wisps of material, and she realised with a sinking heart that not one of her pairs would fit her now. Could she borrow some? Buy some? Well, for the moment she'd have to go commando... which, she thought, was a stupid expression. She'd shared a bed with Riley for a year and he'd never dream of not putting his underwear on every morning. She'd even asked him once if there was some special rule about not wearing underpants in the Marines, and he'd assured her there wasn't. Anyway, if she didn't wear any, it meant running the risk of the same situation that had happened in Willow's room. Oh God, this was more complicated than she'd thought.
And worse was to come. She opened her closet, pulled on a pair of jeans... and peeled them straight back off as she could barely get her legs through them. Skirts were out of the question. In the end she pulled on a raggedy old pair of sweatpants she used to train in. The legs seemed to stop halfway up her calves, but at least they covered her. A top was less of a problem; she had several comfy men's shirts. They were less comfy now she actually was a man; just normal fit. Still, at least she was decent.
But none of her shoes fitted anymore. Buffy almost screamed in frustration as this new obstacle presented itself. Barefoot, she stomped downstairs and into the kitchen. Willow was already there, a steaming mug of coffee next to her elbow as she studied the screen of her laptop. She smiled cautiously at Buffy, hesistant of her friend's mood.
"Everything all right?"
"What? Oh, no, it's nothing, don't worry. I'm just fed up with all this, and I want it over with."
"W-we will, soon. I've already looked up several gender-changing spells, and we just have to work out which is the right one and then - presto!"
"I'm a girl again?"
"Back to Buffy with beautiful boobies." Willow giggled, then blushed. "Uh, I didn't mean it like that, I just went with the alliteration..."
"Uh-huh." Buffy looked at her repressively, but felt a grin lift the corner of her mouth. "Get them back for me and you can perv over them all you like as far as I'm concerned. " Then, as a hasty afterthought, "Tastefully and discreetly and from a safe distance, of course."
"Don't I always? Uh, don't answer that. Aaaand changing the subject rapidly, there's fresh coffee in the pot. I didn't know if you wanted anything to eat?"
"Mmm. I'll fix myself some cereal." She suited actions to words, finished the bowl quickly, and was then curious to discover she still felt hungry. So she filled a second bowl and ate that up just as fast.
"Healthy man-sized appetite, I see."
"Oh, please don't. I'm still getting used to this body."
"I thought you were in the bathroom a long time."
Buffy could feel her face glowing bright red, and stammered helplessly for a reply; but Willow just grinned at her and quirked an eyebrow. "Hey, if it were me, don't you think I'd have been doing exactly the same? I'm actually dying to ask you all about what it's like, but I thought we'd better save that until after I've turned you back."
"Thank you. I appreciate that. How's it getting on, anyway? Anything I can do to help?"
"Not yet. Once I've finished collecting the information on the possible enchantments I'll have to run a few mystical tests on you, see which would be the right counter-spell. But it'll be a few hours yet."
"Oh. What am I supposed to do now, then?"
"Dunno. What do you normally do on a Saturday? Watch cartoons. Fight evil. Go to the mall."
"Like this? People would see me!"
"So? They'll just think you're a guy. A cute guy with long hair and, uh, really bad dress sense. Why not go buy some proper man clothes?"
"I can't! I haven't even got any shoes that fit me!"
"Oh yeah, that's a problem. Oh! Except, why don't you just take some of Spike's? You're pretty much his size now, maybe even a bit taller than him."
Buffy's instinctive rejection of that idea died in her throat as the words "taller than him" sank in. She grinned broadly, and practically skipped out of the kitchen towards the door to the basement.
On to Chapter Four