La Femme Spander: Part Ten
Title: La Femme Spander
Authors: lusciousspike & lusciousxander
Spoilers: BtVS S6, Entropy
Summery: Anya wants revenge and she'll be getting it by cursing Spike and Xander. The ‘boys’ learn first hand how the other half live.
Disclaimer: they belong to Joss and Co.

Part Ten:

Xander eyed Spike's extreme make up with horror as they walked the streets. What scared him was how hot Spike looked with the smoky eye shadow and the blood colored lip gloss. He'd spent less than fifteen minutes turning his face into this perfection before he grabbed Xander's arm and dragged him into the silent night. However, it wasn’t so silent since Xander wouldn’t stop complaining about how crazy the idea of them going to one of the most exclusive of the few clubs that Sunnydale had.

Alone.

In chick form.

“I’m going home,” Xander said, and, yet, he kept walking alongside Spike.

“Okay.”

“I mean it this time.”

Spike stubbed his cigarette on the corner wall they passed. “Sure you do.”

“Ugh, I’m stopping. Look, my feet aren’t moving!” And he did stop. Right until Spike disappeared around the corner and Xander realized that he was alone in a dark street. On the Hellmouth.

“Wait!”

Five minutes later, Xander whined. “My feet hurt.”

“You’re the one who decided to wear those.”

“Make me taller,” Xander muttered. His memory flashed back to the reason of the painful footwear - a mere two hours ago. The worst forty-five minutes of his life.  

Giles had been smart enough to remain at the Magic Box on pretense that finding a cure for Xander and Spike was of the utmost importance. Buffy, on the other hand, apparently used her Slayer Speed to get from the shop to her house when Dawn had called her temporary work place and spoke those nightmarish words, “Fashion Show.”

Xander had known then that the warning ringing in his head should be heeded. He needed to escape. He'd seen enough television to know what was going to happen – and they said T.V. was a poor reflection of life, so he really didn’t want to find out how bad it could get. Sadly, Tara was in the kitchen with Dawn fixing up refreshments when Xander heard Dawn speak to Buffy on the phone. However, the front door was wide clear. Xander cast an eye at the living room and saw Willow engrossed in conversation with Spike of all people. There was no time to lose. Spike was a casualty in war. He could not get to him, not that he even wanted to. Someone had to survive and Xander chose himself.

Slinking towards the door in –if he had to say- really well-honed army techniques, he had his hand on the doorknob and his eyes made sure that the coast was clear before he opened the door silently. Biting his lower lip, he moved outside, back first, before slamming into an obstacle. An obstacle with tiny strong hands.

“Hey, Xander.”

“Buffy! Back… so quickly?” he squeaked as he turned around.

“Took a shortcut.” Buffy grinned. Knowingly, she asked, “Going somewhere?”

Xander gulped. “Um... who? Me? Nah. Stuffy,” he said, pointing his thumb at the house. “Needed some air.”

Buffy gave him a knowing grin and crossed her arms. And that was when the terror began.

 

The nightmarish night would forever be itched in his memory. They had him and Spike walk back and forth in the various clothes they bought. Spike, of course, hadn't been bothered. He had modeled those clothes like a pro, getting applauded left and right, and the mooning stares –mostly from Willow. He seemed to have great fun at the attention, forgetting completely that he should be as miserable as Xander in their joint predicament. 

Xander, however, hadn’t faired as well. He had scurried his way across the mock run way on high heels higher than Posh Spice's, and bruised his knee in the first fall, jabbed his elbow in the second, and his butt was still sore from the last. Needless to say, he was the butt of jokes and laughs throughout the humiliating fashion show.

"Ouch!"

Spike stopped and peered at him over his shoulder.

"I think I bruised my other knee," Xander whimpered, looking at his torn jeans. "Stupid Posh Spice high heels."

~*~*~*~

There was a long line in front of the club entrance. It didn’t seem like it was moving. Xander flashed a wide grin at Spike. “Aww, guess our guy-turned-girl night out is a bust.” He faked a pout, then grinned again.

“Why’s that?” Spike asked, nonchalant.

“Look,” Xander said, pointing at the bulky bouncer. “No way can we get in. That-- is not letting anyone through.”

Spike smirked. “Watch the master. Follow me.”

Xander shook his head scornfully and followed. No way could Spike work his way out in this one. Xander was going to be treated with a nice sight of Spike humiliation. Finally, life was going to be on Chick Xander’s side.

Unfortunately for Xander, life had its own plans in mind – and ‘his side’ was not in them. For no more than a minute later, he found himself blinking as he stared at the inside of the dark club. He turned to Spike whining, “How the hell did you do that?”

Spike looked smug. “Called using your charm, mate.” He tilted his head, curiously. “You know what that is, right?”

Xander looked back at the door, still not believing how the giant man had easily let both of them in. “Whoa, that never happened to me before,” Xander said, taken aback. “And I have a kick ass Slayer for a best friend.”

“Well, now, ducks, you have kick ass body for a friend.”

Xander knew he should have felt degraded. But, since he wasn’t really a woman, he beamed. “Thanks.” Then he noticed what the people who weren’t sitting on the few tables and at the bar were doing.

“What are they doing?” he asked.

“Dancing.”

“That’s dancing?” Xander said, mouth gaping. It looked more like an unidentifiable mesh of bodies grinding against each other.  

Spike shook his head with a snort. “Been living under a square rock there, mate?”

Xander was too shocked by the sight of two women rubbing their bodies together to be offended.

“Stick with me, kid.” If Xander went on a limb, he would think that Spike was having fun on his expense. “And I’ll even show ya how to get some free booze.”

“You’ve done this before?” He pointed up and down at Spike’s body. “When you didn’t look like this?”

Spike raised an eyebrow. “For an effeminate man, you’re pretty blind, aren’t you?” He walked towards the dance floor and stood at the edge for a few seconds, looking impatiently at Xander. "Get your butt out here!" was barely heard over the blaring thumping music.

Xander stumbled forwards. Standing before Spike, he looked a little nervous. "So… what first?"

"Pretend I'm a chick."

"You are!" Xander said confidently with a triumphant grin.

Spike did not roll his eyes but he did purse his lips. "In your head, Harris. You still think of me as the hunk of vamp meat I was."

Xander, on the other hand, did roll his eyes.

Spike poked him lightly on the forehead. "Look into my eyes, poof. See the chit."

Xander narrowed his eyes, looking into Spike's. He sighed a few moments later. "They're the same as they were. All blue and stuff."

Spike let out a small warning growl. "Limp for brain, pretend I'm not Spike. I'm some female you met in a bar and want to shag."

"We call them girls or women these last decades."

"Hardy-har-har. Why bother." Spike started off but a hand stopped him.

"No, wait, Spike."

"What?" Spike hissed.

Xander opened his mouth then closed it. "I don’t know."

"Uggh. You know, Anyanka should've shrunk your penis and balls, seeing as how little you use them."

Xander glared deadly at Spike. "I don't have a penis anymore. Don’t cha' think that's worse?"

"You want me to teach you how to dance or not?"

Xander's mouth flapped open. "Aaah, so that's what you wanted." He seemed to think for a moment, his eyes shifting to look at those still grinding, sweaty women. He shrugged all casual-like. "Sure."

Spike heaved a sigh, knowingly. Xander let out a faint leer as he headed to the section of the dance floor closest to those women.

"Excuse me," a voice stopped Xander short. He looked back and saw the source of the voice –a tall, blond man- leaning towards Spike. "I couldn't help but notice you standing here alone and thought to ask you for a dance." He flashed a wide white grin.

Xander felt a giggle rise up in his throat and turned anticipating the great spectacle that was Spike thoroughly humiliating the man as he turned him down.

"Okay."

Xander's jaw dropped open. His mind was screaming, OKAY?! But he couldn't form the words out loud.

Spike, noticing Xander's distress, turned with a bashful look on his pretty face. "Don’t worry, Xandra, this will only take a song." He threw a smile over his shoulder and turned with a flourish and a twist to his hips.

As Spike walked away -hand in arm- and with the guy's voice floating to Xander, "Oh, you're British, that's so sexy…"

Xander gritted his teeth. The jerk was having fun on his expense. 

~*~*~*~

Twenty minutes later, Xander was sipping his light beer at the bar, watching Spike twist in the middle of four men to that seemingly eternal one song. He had strong suspicions that the DJ was in on it. Xander sighed into his drink and shook away the persistent voice that was hounding him to partake in one of those bubbly colorful fruity drinks that women drink now that he was one of them. Xander was strong in the face of this stereotype.   

Three seconds before Xander fell under the pressure of what he insisted was womanly hormones overtaking his brain and asked for a colorful bubbly, Spike flopped down with a tired laugh and a little stretch. Xander did not fail to notice how the bartender's eyes zeroed in on Spike's low cut burgundy top. He now was sure that he would not grace the perv bartender with ordering one of those surely expensive drinks. He finally snapped his own eyes from Spike's bust when a male voice asked for a dance.

"Spike…" Xander waved at him to bring him to the attention of yet another suitor.

"Xandra, it's rude to ignore someone when they're talking to you." Spike teased with a cute laugh.

Xander barely spoke past "No one is…" when the voice next to him nearly made him jump. And it wasn't because his butt was numb from all the sitting.

"Zandra, that's a pretty name."

"Who…?" Xander turned his eyes from the olive green ones to encouraging blue ones. "Yeah, that's me. Mom thought she was a hippy."

"So, you didn't answer my question." Olive grinned widely, showing a set of very clean and white teeth, much better than Tall Blond Accent Chaser Guy's.

Xander fluttered his lashes. He turned a suspicious eye towards Spike when he suspected he heard a choked laughter but Spike was merely sipping what seemed like whiskey – busy distracting the bartender from his job.

Xander threw his hair to the back. He remembered Cordelia doing that a lot. "I guess that's my song then." The guy flashed him another grin and helped him down from the stool. 

Xander cast a smug look Spike's way. "Save my seat, Wilma." He was mature enough not to stick out his tongue. Especially since he thought his guy looked twice as hot as all those four put together.

~*~*~*~

Xander giggled into his green apple bubbly drink. "Did you see me out there, Spike? I rocked the dance floor. And I didn't trip on my heels more than two times." That one time Olive caught him didn’t count.

Spike nodded. "Yeah, you were a real dirty dancer."

"And you better know it too." Xander sipped the cool drink confidently, really pleased with himself. He almost choked when he caught himself on the small mirror the woman next to him used when applying a coat of lip gloss. He looked like one of those girl next door chicks who felt overconfident when some guy said two words to them. How pathetic.

He glanced at Spike, who gracefully drank another glass of something strong, sending bored stares toward Pervert Bartender. So many guys had asked him to dance, and he still acted blasé.

Xander looked down at his drink, and then pushed it away. He turned his body to face the dance floor and mentally scowled at himself for acting like such a girl.

A buffed up guy was walking toward him. Xander's eyes widened at the sight of scary tattoos coving his muscled upper arms and the thick beard accentuating his butch features. Was he going to ask him to dance? No, he'd say no this time. Enough with acting all girly like. He was still a man on the inside. Yep, he'd reject him, for no other reason but to save his manly ego.

His eyes couldn't leave the skull shaped tattoo.

He lifted his chin up and readied himself to let down the man easy.

But the guy stood next to him, and yelled an order for a couple of beer glasses. Was he ordering one for Xander? Maybe he thought his looks wouldn't be enough to lure Xander, he'd have to buy his approval.

However, when the orders were brought to him, he grabbed the first glass and drank it hungrily, then took the other one and gulped at it with happiness.

Xander felt his cheeks flush with embarrassment before he realized that it was all in his head. No one noticed. 

The sounds of gulps stirred his bladder to life, and he turned towards Spike. He shut his mouth when Spike was engrossed with another flirting session with another cool dude that didn't look like a biker moonlighting as a wrestler.

Xander frowned at himself. He wasn't about to ask Spike to tag along to the restroom, was he? That was what girls did, and Xander wasn't one. On the inside.

The Ladies Room was so crowded with woman holding all manners of conversation like it was a reception area, Xander almost didn’t come in. That must have been the reason why girls didn't venture into this den without a companion. He looked at the lonely walls, wishing for a simple no delay urinal. Men had it way easier.

After what felt like an hour in the over perfumed bathroom, Xander headed back to his seat, feeling like life was sucked out of him. He caught Olive chatting with Spike. Was he looking for Xander? He sighed. He had enough of this game; he really shouldn't lead the guy on. Besides, the guy didn’t even have the good manners to give him his name.

Hurrying his steps, he stopped short when he heard the ridiculed laugh. "Aw, c'mon, I danced with your little friend. Now you need to keep your end of the deal."

Something inside Xander snapped. He didn't need a mirror to know his face looked like someone just slapped him, hard. And not because one of the ‘ladies’ in the bathroom insisted he looked pale and needed a fresh coating of war paint.

Spike looked Olive up and down, lips formed an attractive smile.

“Did we shake on something? All I remember is me pointing out that you might find your jollies with my friend there.”

Olive wasn’t deterred and tried his best flirting techniques – Xander had first hand account of how good they were, but Spike was the master of dismissals. He didn’t even pause with a particularly inventive one - not that Xander had a few minutes before.

Xander broke out of his jumbled thoughts when he felt something pinch his ass. He was three steps closer to his destination before it actually hit him what happened. Deciding to use this new incident as fuel to his fire, he forged forward – smartly bypassing a frat boy with two jugs of beer without incident.

Spike was a little startled when he noticed Xander standing near him, fuming with rage.

"So, that was a pity dance?" Xander asked, tightening his fists.

Unexpectedly, Spike's expression dissolved into a smirk. "You're welcome."

If looks could burn, Spike’s head would have combusted into flames from Xander’s furious glare. "I don't need your pity. I can get a guy to notice me just fine." He stalked towards the dance floor.

"Tad too early for that time of month, aint it?" Spike called at the rigid back, amusement in his voice.

Xander turned around and gave him the finger – giving more sense to Dawn’s particular choice of ring finger. Barely taking in the impressed look on Spike’s face, he quickly disappeared into the mass of people.