Stranger In Her Eyes
by Shyfox
This Is Not My Beautiful Wife
[reviews]
Chapter three;
This Is Not My Beautiful Wife!
"You may ask yourself,
'How do I work this?'
You may ask yourself,
'Where is that large automobile?'
You may tell yourself,
'This is not my beautiful house.'
You may tell yourself,
'This is not my beautiful wife!'"
--Talking Heads
"Once In A Lifetime"
Spike knew that he had his prey dead to rights. The blond girl had stumbled, and there was no way she could escape being the vampire's sustenance for tonight. He took two more paces toward the fallen Slayer, when a stream of water landed on the small of his back. He shrieked in agony as the watery onslaught continued, and Buffy strained to see who was behind her sudden good fortune.
Xander stood behind Spike, firing a super-soaker full of holy water at the startled vampire. Anya, Oz and Giles stood at his side, as Xander quickly changed water cartridges. "Yeah, baby," Xander shouted in his best Austin Powers accent, "baggin' vamps is my scene!"
"Enough, Xander," Giles warned the enthusiastic younger man, who reluctantly took his finger off the trigger. Giles then aimed his crossbow at the fiend's festering heart. "You won't be dining on her tonight, my friend," he said in a calm voice that still carried an edge of steel. "Depart, now!"
Spike looked at the squad of vampire hunters, and grumbled. "This ain't fun anymore," he spat out before taking off at a fast clip. Xander and Oz were about to rush after him, but Giles motioned for them to stop. He warned them, "Spike is too dangerous for you to tackle alone. Let him go, he's lost his chance to feed tonight. Besides," he added, a slight smile playing at his lips, "if we slew him and Buffy wasn't there to witness it, she'd never forgive us."
Xander shrugged his shoulders, saying, "You're probably right. But still, it'd be a great late wedding gift."
"She still wants to bag him herself," Oz observed. "He's her trophy."
"Now then," Giles turned toward the blond who managed to stand up again. "Let's see how our young friend is doing." Before he could address the blond, she rushed toward him, and wrapped her arms around his waist. "Oh God, Giles," she wept with relief, "I'm so glad I found you."
"Ahem, yes," the reserved Englishman stammered. "You seem to have the advantage over us, Miss--" he stopped, hoping she would supply the name.
She disengaged the hug, and looked at Giles' face. "Giles, it's me. Buffy." Giles looked hard at the young woman, examining her intently. "Buffy Rosenberg-Summers," she added. "The Vampire Slayer."
"She must have taken a fall to the head," Anya commented with her usual lack of tact.
"Guys," Buffy continued, desperation coloring her voice, "I'm telling you the truth. I know I don't look like Buffy, but it's really me!"
Giles calmly spoke to the girl; "I am fully aware that strange things happen here in Sunnydale, but it will take more than your word to convince me of the veracity of your claim."
Buffy shook her head in frustration. How could she convince her mentor that what she was saying was true? Then, she
steadied herself, faced Giles, and spoke, keeping her voice as level as she could;
"On my eighteenth birthday," she began, "you injected me with a muscle relaxant, to suppress my slayer strength. It was all part of some Slayer rite of passage, that's what you said. I was to face a powerful vampire without my powers. The vampire got loose and tried to threaten Mom. You turned against Quentin and tried to help me, and after the test, the Watcher's Council fired you. After Quentin left, I sat in the Library and cried. You said nothing, just stood there with a box of Kleenex for me." She choked back the lump in her throat as she finished the accounting of one of her darkest days, and one of Giles' as well. When she finished speaking, she looked at Giles' face, which now bore a look of utter shock.
"Buffy?" he asked tentatively. She nodded, not trusting herself to speak. "Oh, my dear child," Giles collected her in his arms, and let her cry on his shoulder.
After she let out her tears, Buffy turned toward the other Scoobs. Xander and Oz nodded; they could sense that this was indeed Buffy. Anya, however, had other ideas. "How can she be Buffy?" she asked innocently enough. "She doesn't look like her. Besides, I thought Buffy and Willow were at the Piedmont, giving each other orgasms." As she spoke, Xander and Oz slowly sidestepped away from her.
Buffy approached Anya, speaking in a low growl; "Anya, I've had my body swiped, I've been kicked out of a hotel, and nearly became Spike's midnight snack. Plus the fact that I don't know if my wife and our unborn child are safe. So far I've had a really crappy evening. And if I hear the 'O' word escape your lips again tonight, I will have no choice but to tear out your ribcage and wear it as a hat! Same rule goes for any rude hand gestures! Questions? Comments?"
Anya blanched slightly, and grinned. "Hi, Buffy."
Xander and Oz whistled softly; there was no more doubting her identity now. "Okay, then," Xander said softly. "Anyone care to jump in with an explanation as to why our Buffy-shaped friend isn't so Buffy-shaped anymore?"
"The spell book," Buffy suddenly announced. She ran back to the bench where she had been sitting, and collected the book she had taken from Tara's dorm. "I was with Willow in the ballroom," Buffy explained, "and suddenly I'm in Tara's dorm, in her body."
"Tara?" Xander asked.
"That blond who was watching Buffy and Willow at the reception," Oz answered. "I got a weird vibe from her. I think she wanted Willow."
"Score one for the strong-but-silent type," Buffy answered. "You should see her dorm. Temple of the Divine Willow. Photos of her everywhere." She hastily turned to the bookmarked page, and showed the spell to Giles. "I found this book on the floor, inside a ring of candles, open to this page. Can you read it?"
"Let me see," Giles mused as he moved directly under a lamppost and scanned the passage. His brow knitted in thought as he read. "Oh dear," he murmured. "It's an 'I Will It So' spell. Very powerful, very dangerous."
"So this Tara person willed herself in Buffy's body," Anya guessed, "so she and Willow would be--" Buffy glared at her, and Anya gulped, "uh, together tonight?" Buffy nodded warily, and Anya breathed a sigh of relief.
"So we gotta get to Willow before she and Tara--" Oz started, leaving his sentiment hanging on purpose. "But how do we get to her?"
"Good question, Oz," Buffy shook her head in frustration. "The bouncer already gave me the Golden Toe, I'm sure he thinks I'm nuts, and he knows what I look like--what Tara looks like, ooh!"
"Hey, despair not, Buffster," Xander said, smiling. "I have a cunning plan..."
========
"Excuse me, sir!" an irate Xander Harris pounded on the front desk at the Piedmont. "I demand some service here. I have a reservation for two here, me and my girl," he held Anya close to him, to emphasize his point.
"May I ask for your name, sir?" The maitre d' spoke with practiced civility.
"Harris. Alexander and Anya Harris," he said loudly. "This is Anya." he added, introducing his girlfriend, who cuddled closer to Xander.
The maitre d' thumbed through his records, and frowned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Harris, but your name doesn't seem to be anywhere on my reservations. We do have some fine rooms available if you wish."
"The honeymoon suite will do fine, sir," Xander said. "Nothing but the best for my sweetie-pie, ain't that right, Anya?" Anya just nodded, smiling. Given Anya's inability to understand when it was prudent to keep her mouth shut, it was decided that Xander should do all the talking for the both of them.
"I'm sorry sir," the maitre d' had decided at this time that he thoroughly despised this person. "The honeymoon suite is in use at this time. We do have some fine deluxe suites if you--"
"Look, my friend," Xander raised his voice to the man, "I made reservations weeks in advance for the honeymoon suite, I even paid half in advance. Now whoever you got in the honeymoon suite, obviously they're not supposed to be there."
"Sir, I assure you," the maitre d' snapped, preparing to call security, "the honeymoon suite is occupied. We cannot simply throw the couple out of the suite, just because you can shout louder than they can. Now, if you don't wish to rent a suite, please allow me to wait on the customer behind you. Good day."
As the maitre d' spoke, Xander looked out the corner of his eye, and saw two figures slip past, making their way surreptitiously toward the fire escape. He slammed his fist on the desk, drawing the maitre d's attention away from the interlopers. "What kind of clip joint are you running here?" Xander shouted, entirely enjoying playing the part of a loudmouth jerk. He noticed a few staff members turning toward him, which suited him fine. Better they pay attention to his outburst than to his friends sneaking up to the penthouse suite. As they made their way to the stairway and closed the door behind them, he segued to the big finish of his performance. "I gave my credit card number to one of your employees, and if I find out I've been taken for a ride, you'll be hearing from my attorney!"
"Sir," the maitre d' surrendered all pretense of politeness, "if you don't lower your voice, I will have no choice but to call security!"
"Bring 'em on!" Xander bellowed. "I want everyone here to know what kind of scam you're running! I put up my money for a honeymoon at the Regency, and dammit--"
"THIS IS NOT THE REGENCY!" The maitre d' had to shout to be heard above Xander's rant. Xander fell silent at the angered maitre d's outburst. "This is the Piedmont," he continued in a slightly softer voice. "The Regency is on the other side of town. I'd be happy to give you the address," he continued, scribbling a message on a piece of note paper, and handing it brusquely to Xander. "There is the Regency, sir."
"You mean," Xander started, feigning embarrassment, "this ain't the Regency? Honey," he added, turning toward Anya, who had to suppress a chuckle at his performance, "this ain't the Regency. I'm so sorry, sir, I was given the wrong directions, I must have gotten turned around at Wilkins Circle. We'll just leave now. Thanks for your trouble," he finished as he and Anya headed for the main doors. "Sorry again, no hard feelings, g'bye!"
As they left the hotel quickly, Oz stood outside waiting for them. "So, how'd it go?" asked the musician.
Xander high-fived Oz and said, "I'd like to thank the academy, my acting coach, all the little people, and of course, the founder of Krispy Kremes!" The three friends headed out. Their job was done. The ball was now in Buffy's court.
========
Willow strolled in silence, the one she loved on her arm, to their shared suite. She leaned her head on Buffy's shoulder, content in their love. But there was something about Buffy, something that bothered her slightly. She seemed more reserved than she had been last night, or even just before dinner. Maybe it was just the meal, but she seemed almost timid around her. Willow had to initiate any gentle caresses or kisses. She figured that once they returned to their bed, her inhibitions would be shed along with her clothes. Of course, she wasn't aware at the time that the woman she was with was not truly her wife, but Tara in her wife's body.
As they entered the suite again, Tara turned toward Willow, and said, "Penny for your thoughts."
"Just thinking of you, as always," Willow answered. "You?"
"I was thinking of us. The two of us, together." She smiled at Willow and added, "You seem quiet tonight, honey."
"Yeah, well," Willow said, "you know what Shakespeare said about silence."
Tara's face looked blank. "Uh, no. What did he say?"
Willow turned suddenly, regarding her wife with growing concern. "You know, Buffy," she said levelly. "What did
Shakespeare say about silence?"
"Uh," Tara hemmed and hawed for a few seconds, and then said, "It's golden."
Willow regarded her with sudden alarm, her brows severely furrowed. "What did Shakespeare say about silence, Buffy?" she asked slowly.
"Who cares what that old hack said about silence?" Tara asked, as Willow turned away from her. Tara grabbed Willow by the arm and said to her, "All I care about is you, Willow."
"You're hurting me," Willow strained against Tara's grip, and managed to pry her arm loose. Tara looked as though Willow had struck her, her face an artist's study of shock. Willow backed away from Tara and asked once more, "What did Shakespeare say about silence?"
Tara tried to speak, but all she could do was move her mouth soundlessly. Her dream was crumbling before her eyes and she didn't know how to restore it. Before she could speak again, she heard an angry voice behind her; "You're all out of lifelines, Tara."
Tara turned around, only to face herself. Or rather, the person who inhabited her body. "Hello, Tara," Buffy said, crossing her arms, glaring hard at the woman who tried to take all that was hers. Her voice was calm, but laced with rage; "You stole my life. You stole my body. You stole my wife. I want them back. Now." Rupert Giles stood next to the young woman, regarding Tara with a quiet contempt.
Willow looked at Tara, then at Buffy, then again at Tara. Was her claim true? Did Tara switch bodies with Buffy? How? When? Or was this an elaborate joke? Giles was with her, though, so it couldn't be a trick, could it?
There was one way to be sure. She looked at the woman in the doorway, and asked, "What did Shakespeare say about silence?"
Buffy gazed into Willow's face, pleading with her eyes. "Silence is the perfectest herald of joy. I was but little happy if I could say how much." Giles raised his eyebrows to hear Buffy quoting Shakespeare, but it did seem to have the desired effect on Willow.
Willow gasped as she heard these words. She stumbled toward the woman, and fell into her waiting arms. There was no doubt in her mind. This was her wife. She cried in her arms, murmuring, "Oh, Buffy, what happened to you?"
"Shh, it's okay, Wills," Buffy stroked the red hair of her beloved, providing what comfort she could. "We'll get this situation squared away."
"Now then, young lady," Giles intoned as he glared at Tara, "you have a great deal of explaining to do."
As Giles stepped toward Tara, the frightened wiccan whispered to herself, "Oh Goddess, I wish I was somewhere else!" With that utterance, she simply vanished. Giles, Willow and Buffy stared for several seconds, as the air shimmered behind Tara's departure.
After the effect had faded, Willow turned toward the unfamiliar body that housed the soul of her loved one, and asked, "What did she do to you? And why steal your body?"
"Oh, Wills," Buffy answered, as she stroked her wife's cheek. Willow at first flinched at the touch, but reminded herself that this was indeed the woman she had married less than two days ago, and allowed herself to relax at the touch. "Isn't it obvious? She was obsessed with you. She so much wanted to be with you, that she became me."
"She used a powerful spell to make her every utterance reality," Giles explained, displaying the book. "Perhaps if you were to take a look at it, you could find the means to reverse the effects."
"And get Buffy back in her right body?" Willow asked. "Uh, not that she doesn't look okay in this one, but I'm kinda used to the original model."
"That's okay, Wills," Buffy smiled at her wife's familiar babbling. "I miss it too. But we'd better sneak out of here before security finds me here."
"Right," Giles said. "I'll contact Oz and Xander, have them locate Tara."
"Giles," Buffy complained, "she could be anywhere. She didn't even say where she wanted to go, just away from here."
"I don't think the spell's that strong," Giles assured Buffy. "If I'm not mistaken, the spell will only take her up to five miles from here. She's probably still within city limits. Now, if we can leave?" Giles and the two women slipped out through the stairwell and left for some neutral ground.
Tara opened her eyes to darkness. She felt her way around the unfamiliar surroundings, locating a lamp. Switching on the lamp, she could now make out her location.
She was in a bedroom, sprawled on top of a double bed. She glanced around, seeing the familiar trappings; a vanity, the counter half-covered in various cosmetics; a pair of ice skates hanging over a doorknob; a small collection of framed photographs, displayed on the chest of drawers. She looked at the photographs. Pictures of two young women, one blond with a serious but happy expression, the other with red hair and a mouth created for the express purpose of smiling.
Buffy and Willow Rosenberg-Summers. She had wished herself into their bedroom. She threw her body backward on the bed and cried. All around her were reminders of her Willow, and the woman who took her away from her.
"No, she didn't," a voice in the back of her head said. "Willow was never yours to lose. She chose to love Buffy before she ever met you." She had to get out of this room, this house, this city. She needed a new start, and in Buffy's stolen body, she felt that her new start would be easier to come by.
She ducked out of the room, and started to run down the stairs, until she noticed something in the next room. She poked her head in the door frame.
The only piece of furniture in the room was a crib. A light toned wooden crib, decorated with Mickey Mouse designs. Tara looked around the room, which was evidently being readied for a nursery. She remembered when she danced with Willow; as she held her close, she could feel the redhead's belly press against her own. It dawned on her with a sudden clarity. Willow was pregnant. She and Buffy were going to welcome a new life into the world. And she had tried to usurp Buffy's role as a parent.
She felt ashamed of what she had done. She could see in this room, and in the photos she saw of Buffy and Willow together, that they belonged together. And she felt doubly ashamed at entertaining thoughts of escaping in Buffy's body. All she would be doing was running. And the one she professed to love would be miserable.
She felt a single tear trail down her cheek, as she realized what she had to do. She lifted her head and said to whatever Goddess was listening, "I wish to be where Buffy and Willow are."
She vanished into the ether, a split second before Joyce Summers walked into the half-finished nursery, a measuring tape in her hand. She could have sworn she saw something just out of her field of view. "Buffy?" she asked tentatively. She looked around and saw nothing out of place. She shrugged her shoulders and decided it was just a trick of the light. Forgetting the incident, she started to measure the windows for curtains. She hoped to have some clear ideas for decorating the nursery once Buffy and Willow got back from their honeymoon.
Buffy picked up her burger from the cashier, and sat back down at the table of the Burger King where she, Willow and Giles had regrouped after leaving the Piedmont. Somehow a Whopper seemed like a severe let-down after the fine dining she and Willow had enjoyed earlier, but Tara had neglected to eat before casting her spell. In her borrowed body, Buffy found herself very hungry.
She sat next to Willow, who had been pouring over the spell repeatedly since they got to the BK. Just as Buffy scooted closer to her wife, Willow put down the book in weary disappointment, and said, "Oh, H-E-double hockey- sticks!"
"Easy, Wills," Buffy admonished. "I hope you don't plan to talk like that around our little girl after she's born."
Willow smirked at the observation, saying, "Sorry, Buff, but I'm just frustrated. If I'm reading this passage right, only the person who cast the spell can undo it. We need Tara if we're gonna get you back."
"And somehow I don't think she'll be all that eager to help us out," Buffy mused. "Especially now that you know the truth."
"Yeah," Willow breathed. "Buffy, I'm so sorry. I'm married to you for less than forty-eight hours, and I almost cheated on you. Goddess I can't believe this."
"Hey, don't even think that way, honey," Buffy cuddled Willow closer to her. "You had no idea at first, and you were able to figure it out fast enough. You're still the smartest, bravest, and most beautiful person I know. That's why I married you."
"Thanks, Buffy," Willow blushed prettily. After four months of loving Buffy, she was still getting used to having someone think of her as beautiful, or brave.
"Right now," Giles brought the two newlyweds back to Earth, "we have to deal with what Tara has done to you, Buffy. If we cannot find her and coerce her to reverse the effects of her spell, you may be stuck with her body. In that event, you may never again be the Slayer."
"And this is a bad thing, how?" Buffy joked. She then took a more serious tone at the sight of Giles' glare. "I know, sacred duty, yadda yadda. But if we don't find Tara, how do I explain this--" she indicated her body, "to Mom? 'Hi, Mom, what do you think of the new look?' Over the last few years, I told her about being the Slayer, and about making Willow pregnant, I'm not looking forward to playing 'Let's see which weird development gives Mom a coronary'."
"I think you should give Joyce more credit than that," Giles stated. "She's proven to be quite resilient in the face of adversity. I'm sure that she will accept you, whatever your outward appearance."
"Yeah, she's dating a Watcher, she can take anything," Willow joked. Buffy had to laugh at Willow's comment, and Giles, despite his attempts to look grave, still chuckled.
Buffy then looked at Willow, anxiety clouding her eyes. "What about you, Wills? Take a good look here, you could be stuck with me this way."
"Buffy," Willow shook her head, only desiring to ease Buffy's fears. "It's my turn to quote Shakespeare. One of the sonnets, if I'm not mistaken;
Let me not to the marriage of true minds
Admit impediments. Love is not love
Which alters when it alteration finds,
Or bends with the remover to remove."
"Yes, Sonnet 116, as I recall," Giles muttered. Willow and Buffy looked at him suddenly, and he added, "Just verifying."
Willow smiled at Giles, and continued; "You understand what I'm saying, don't you, Buffy? I'm not gonna fall out of love with you, not now, not ever. I'm certainly not going to stop loving you just because your appearance changes. This," she stroked Buffy's cheek, "is not the real you, it's just the vessel that the real you is in right now. The real you is here," she placed her hand over Buffy's heart. "It is here, in your heart, where you keep your strength, your soul, your passion. That's the real Buffy, the woman I love."
Buffy couldn't speak, as emotion left a lump in her throat. She expressed herself by taking Willow's hand in her own and kissing her knuckle.
Giles suddenly cleared his throat to get their attention. "Ladies, look over there," he said, pointing to the door.
Tara, still occupying the lithe, athletic form of Buffy Rosenberg-Summers, stood in the doorway. Her head was bent low, as though in contrition. She stepped timidly toward Buffy and her two companions. "W-Willow," she said, her voice barely above a whisper and unable to control her stuttering. "I d-didn't know about your pregnancy b-before now. When I wished myself away from you, I found myself in your b-bedroom. I saw the nursery that was b-being set up. That's when I realized my error. I tried to take something that d-didn't belong to me. I-I'm sorry."
Buffy said nothing, she only gave Tara a withering stare. Willow looked at her more charitably, as Giles' face was an unreadable mask. Tara gulped hard, fighting back the tremors that threatened to overtake her voice, as she spoke the words she had to say; "It is my wish that everything be restored as it was before I cast my spell!" Her body spasmed briefly, and Willow noticed that Buffy's body was undergoing the same tremors. Two seconds later, it was over.
Willow looked at the companion next to her, and asked, "Buffy?"
The blond sadly shook her head and got up. Willow looked at the woman standing beside the table, the one in Buffy's body. She smiled at her and rushed to collect her in her arms. Willow met her in a passionate embrace. As their lips touched, Willow knew that this was indeed her wife, her Slayer, her Buffy.
After they disengaged the kiss, Buffy asked, "What about her?" looking at the forlorn Tara.
"Let her go," Willow said simply. "She'll never do anything like this again. Will you, Tara?"
"You have my word," Tara nodded. "I know better now than to break up what was meant to be. Keep the book, Willow. Don't let anyone use that spell again, it's too p-powerful." As she started for the door, she looked at Buffy, and said, "You are so lucky."
"I know it," Buffy agreed, too happy to be reunited with Willow to stay angry at Tara. "You'll find someone. Just give it time."
"Sure," Tara said as she left. "I found someone already, I can find someone else." Tara walked out into the cool night air. Buffy said to Giles, "We should follow her back to the dorm. Make sure she's not attacked by vampires on her way."
"I'll escort her safely, Buffy," Giles replied. "The two of you are going back to the Piedmont. You still have a honeymoon."
Buffy and Willow laughed and cried together. They then returned to their shared life that was briefly interrupted.
Epilogue;
Buffy caught sight of Willow sitting at a table at the Quad, waiting for her. She grinned broadly, stepped up behind Willow, and wrapped her arms around her shoulders. "Hey, honey," she whispered in her ear, as she nibbled the earlobe.
"Hey yourself," Willow greeted her wife, leaning back into her embrace. She got up and hugged Buffy back. "How did classes go?"
"Slowly, Wills, slowly," Buffy admitted. "All I could think about was you, in that huge bed in our suite at the Piedmont."
"Oh," teased Willow. "What was I wearing, pray tell?"
Buffy grinned lasciviously. "Nothing but a smile."
"Well, then, time to turn dream into reality." And she kissed Buffy soundly on the lips.
As they strolled away from the campus, Buffy asked, "Hey, Wills, you hear from Tara?"
"Yeah," Willow answered, her voice carrying strains of melancholy. "I bumped into her between classes. She's talking about moving away from Sunnydale."
Buffy looked away from Willow, feeling guilty at the anger she had harbored toward the tragic young blond. "I hope she'll change her mind."
"Me too, Buff. The thing is, I see a lot of myself in her."
"How's that?"
"I was that same wallflower for most of my life. To afraid to talk to anyone, crushing on Xander but never getting up the nerve to tell him. I always make jokes about my 'frog fear', but the fact is, for me, it was 'everything fear'. Then, one day it all changed."
"Oh? How?"
Willow turned her face to Buffy, joy shining in her eyes. "A girl my age told off some of Cordy's followers, and then asked me for some help with her homework. And then, between turning my life around by day and fighting undead skanky evil at night, she became the most important person in my life."
"Really," Buffy smiled, as tears of happiness welled in her eyes. "I'll have to look this girl up."
Willow slapped Buffy playfully, and said, "C'mon, Buffy. Let's get back to our honeymoon. We've still got five days left."
"Wrong, Willow," Buffy took Willow in her arms, and kissed her passionately. "We've got the rest of our lives."
As the two young women kissed, they were unaware of an interloper standing behind a large oak tree. The dark-haired woman had been following the Slayer for the last few hours, and was taking in the sight of the Slayer and her beloved, openly and happily kissing each other.
"So," she mused as she lit a cigarette. She stole one last glance at the two lovers, took a deep drag from her cigarette and exhaled a gout of smoke before moving on. "B and Red don't drive stick anymore? Wicked cool! Who woulda thunk?" She smiled to herself, considering what she should do with this new information.