Shoe on the Other Foot (SotOF)

By Penmom

As you well know, the usual things apply. Premise - Xander and Spike switch bodies

Chapter Six - Flannel

It seems like it is taking forever, for Anya and Xander to arrive. She is starting to get a little panicked by the blood. What if Xander's body died? What would happen to Spike? What would happen to Xander? All of it makes her head hurt.

Finally, she sees headlights and soon Anya and Spike are headed toward her. If she weren't so worried about Xander and Spike, she would think it was funny to see a plaid flannel shirt on Spike's body.

"Oh My GOD, he's gone and gotten me KILLED!" Xander cries as they reach them. He stops himself from saying anything else because he just sounded like such a major league whimp. Plus both Buffy and Anya had looks on their faces, which reassure him that now was not the time to scream like a girl.

Buffy jumps up, HIS blood on her hands, "Xander, help me get him to the car!"

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Sitting slumped in the waiting room, Xander muses about how incredibly surreal it is to carry your own body into the emergency room. Gosh, he needs to lose his weight. He had no idea. He tries to read the People magazine in front of him to avoid thinking of getting stuck inside Spike forever.

On the up side, the come ether looks from the nurses are pretty cool --- suddenly, his eyes blur for a split second.

"Ouch!" he cries out. What the hell? Xander finds himself lying on an examining room cot with an IV in one arm while a doctor stitches around several butterfly clips.

A voice from behind the doctor speaks, "Xander? I mean XANDER, are YOU awake, XANDER??" Anya intones. That's his girl!

Despite the pain, he is happy, happy, happy - heartbeat, spare tire and all.

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Having witnessed the exchange in the examining room, Buffy slides out into the waiting room only to find Spike - his nose inside a People magazine with Lisa Marie Presley on the cover - sitting calmly.

Coming to stand in front of him, she speaks as she kicks out at his shoe. "Lovin' the flannel."

Looking up from his article on Dr. Phil, he notices his attire. With a wry smile he answers, his voice like velvet to her ears, "Do ya' now? If only I'd known sooner."

As he stands, he is surprised to find that she has wrapped her sturdy arms around his waist and put her ear to his silent chest.

The END