First thing Xander heard was a well modulated and soft spoken "Oh dear. That wasn't supposed to happen," before all hell broke loose.

"Bloody fucking hell!"

And English cursing guy sounded really different when he was English cursing gal but Xander was too busy finding himself two (big big) boobies richer and missing a dick to listen to the rest of whatever Spike had to say. "What the fuck?"

"I asked first!"

And that girly Willow shriek sounded really manly.

"Get him - her! She's getting away!"

That's all the Xand-ma - oh whatever - needed to spring into action - or spring into Spike, colliding in a collision of hard bits with soft bits and "Ow" one struggling female Ethan Rayne on the bottom.

"Could be worse."

Xander looked up from watching the sidewalk go by under his sneakers long enough to fix Spike with his best 'you must be joking' stare. "How?"

"Got great knockers, haven't we? Did you see the Watcher? Flat as a bloody board and got a bit of middle-aged spread around the bum too." Spike tucked his hands behind his back, coat snapping at his heels and nearly brushing the ground with every step.

Xander watched him hop lightly onto a bench, walk along that and hop down.

Okay, so Xander watched Spike's breasts hop, walk and hop. Semantics. Spike was right - they were a pretty great set.

But that wasn't the point.

"That's not the point." Xander wished Spike would lift his eyes from Xander's chest and kinda wished his chest didn't wobble so disturbingly with every step. "The point is that we are women. You, me, Giles, Riley and Ethan Rayne. And the girls - excuse me - ex girls are men. And Ethan doesn't know how to reverse it because it was supposed to be his so long, suckers! sayonara to Sunnydale. Still with me so far?"

"Every word, pet," Spike assured Xander's breasts.

"We are women, Spike!"

"So? What's wrong with that? You like women."

"I also like cream filled doughnuts but that doesn't mean I want to be one!"

"Oh calm down. Watcher and the witches'll get this sorted sooner or later and you'll have all your manly bits back where they belong." Spike patted down his pockets and pulled out cigarettes and lighter, lit up.

"I like my manly bits. In fact, you could probably say my manly bits are the foundations of my self-image."

Spike snorted. "Not been doing a very good job then have they?" Spike flicked ash away from himself and while Xander was busy not watching a perky pair of breasts jiggle to the motion, he continued. "'Sides, you can't tell me you're not at all curious what it's like."

"Huh? What what's like?"

"The other side. The bits and bobs a bloke hasn't got. What it feels like to slide a hand down between your thighs, all that slick and heat instead of hardness, slip up to find that one little spot that'll - "

"I am not listening to this!" Xander sped up - but didn't run. He'd found out the hard way that running was bad and ow with his new anatomy and he was never gonna look at bras the same way again. "And I am not curious!" He jammed his key into the lock - missed because he was aiming too low on the door and tried again, flinging the door open and leading the way into his apartment.

"No?" Spike asked, slipping through the door and shedding his duster as he went. Then he kept shedding, over shirt following the duster and tee shirt following the over shirt and those really were nice breasts and Spike wasn't stopping there, only paused with his hands on his zipper, head cocked to one side. "Best close the door, pet because I am."

And then Spike toed out of his boots and dropped his jeans and Xander slammed the door shut with a gah! and watched the most perfect breasts turn away and the most perfect ass sway away and knew if he still had a dick, he'd be a walking hard-on by now.

And instead - instead -

Xander sagged with a shudder, a warming, tingling, totally alien ache between his thighs and slid down the wall, clamping his hands over his ears at the first moan and fuck yeah! from the open door of Spike's bedroom.