A Typical Tuesday Evening (AtS)
Back in October, tesla321 asked me for an Angel birthday fic. Because she *knows* how I feel about that sort of thing. So I tried, because she is awesome, but... yeah, I gave her something else. Anyway, here's the general idea. Call it an experiment.
A Typical Tuesday Evening
::Prologue::
“Nice one, Undead Walking,” groused a strangely familiar voice.
Angel blinked. He was lying on a cold, hard stone floor.
“Why do we even bother hiring security?” The voice continued, “It just makes it more entertaining for you, doesn’t it? Still…” the voice turned thoughtful. “Maybe the night’s not a total loss.”
Angel squinted, blinked again, waiting for his vision to come back into focus, and looked-right into his own reflection.
His reflection smirked.
:: Angel ::
The bindings must have been enchanted. Angel wrenched at them again, fruitlessly. He’d been bound to a chair with some filmy scarves, and there was something beating softly around his face.
“Now, the manicure is expensive,” Not-Angel said briskly, moving back into Angel’s field of vision. He was carrying a set of manacles. “So don’t mess with the nails. In fact, don’t do anything with the hands. And I don’t want any unnecessary ligature marks, so you shouldn’t bother struggling. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about when I say those bindings will hold you.” He knelt down to secure Angel’s legs.
Angel yanked again, fruitlessly, and willed himself to vamp out.
“Hey!” Not-Angel snapped. “No frowning. It makes lines. In fact, no facial expressions at all. That should be easy for you, just act like yourself.”
“What-” Angel coughed. His voice sounded strange, and also, he suddenly thought, with a vague sense of unease, like a different pitch. That’s when he looked down and saw the perky set of breasts straining against his elegant designer blouse. “That’s new,” he said faintly.
Not-Angel smirked again, a touch modestly this time. “Not bad, are they? And getting to experience them is all thanks to you for sweeping in just in time to disrupt my client’s spell. Great timing, Champ.”
The spell! It all came back to Angel. Lilah had been planning something, and there had been victims, and some demons, and there was a wizard, and some chanting, and he’d accidentally knocked over some herbs and a cup of ceremonial oil had ended up smeared on both himself and Lilah as she headed for the nearest exit, and then there’d been some dark utterings just before he cut the wizard’s head off, and then… then he’d woken up with breasts.
Lilah’s breasts. Attached to Lilah’s body. Whereas Lilah was now--
“Whoops. Your lipstick is a little smeared.” Not-Angel leaned in, wiped at the corner of Angel’s mouth, and winked. “Now you just sit there like a good little former vamp and take care of my body. I’ll be wanting it back exactly the way you found it, or I might just decide keeping yours would be more fun.”
With one last tug to test the bonds, she-he-Lilah-in-Angel’s body walked away. Angel couldn’t help noticing, critically, the lanky body’s stride as it headed out the door.
“I don’t swing my hips that much!” he yelled, petulant, but Lilah was already gone.
::
“So,” Lilah breezed back in, wearing Angel’s body as casually as one of her designer suits. “You want the good news or the bad news first?”
Angel scowled.
“Okay, the good news.” Lilah grabbed a chair, spun it around backwards, and slung herself into it, arms braced across the back. “You and I are going to be spending some quality time in each other’s shoes. The mess you made will take some work to undo, and nobody local can handle it, since you so helpfully killed the one guy who could. I’ve got some leads I need to look into, but, shockingly, I don’t trust you with my body, which means, Stud,” Lilah leaned in and flicked at an invisible speck of dust on the collar of Angel’s-Lilah’s-the blouse Angel was currently wearing, since he was wearing Lilah’s body. “We’re going on a little road trip.”
::Lilah::
Lilah pressed down on the gas just a little harder, enjoying the smooth vibration as Angel’s convertible sped even faster through the night. Top down, and her hair wasn’t in any danger of getting messed up. She shifted gears, added a little more juice, and glanced over at the passenger seat.
Angel looked positively mortified about all the wind wreaking havoc with his carefully styled do, Lilah’s long tresses whipping about wildly.
Lilah switched lanes and sped on along the dark highway, smothering a grin. When life gives you an unexpected bodyswitch into your sworn enemy’s immortal body, she figured, you make lemonade.
A Typical Tuesday Evening
::Prologue::
“Nice one, Undead Walking,” groused a strangely familiar voice.
Angel blinked. He was lying on a cold, hard stone floor.
“Why do we even bother hiring security?” The voice continued, “It just makes it more entertaining for you, doesn’t it? Still…” the voice turned thoughtful. “Maybe the night’s not a total loss.”
Angel squinted, blinked again, waiting for his vision to come back into focus, and looked-right into his own reflection.
His reflection smirked.
:: Angel ::
The bindings must have been enchanted. Angel wrenched at them again, fruitlessly. He’d been bound to a chair with some filmy scarves, and there was something beating softly around his face.
“Now, the manicure is expensive,” Not-Angel said briskly, moving back into Angel’s field of vision. He was carrying a set of manacles. “So don’t mess with the nails. In fact, don’t do anything with the hands. And I don’t want any unnecessary ligature marks, so you shouldn’t bother struggling. Believe me, I know what I’m talking about when I say those bindings will hold you.” He knelt down to secure Angel’s legs.
Angel yanked again, fruitlessly, and willed himself to vamp out.
“Hey!” Not-Angel snapped. “No frowning. It makes lines. In fact, no facial expressions at all. That should be easy for you, just act like yourself.”
“What-” Angel coughed. His voice sounded strange, and also, he suddenly thought, with a vague sense of unease, like a different pitch. That’s when he looked down and saw the perky set of breasts straining against his elegant designer blouse. “That’s new,” he said faintly.
Not-Angel smirked again, a touch modestly this time. “Not bad, are they? And getting to experience them is all thanks to you for sweeping in just in time to disrupt my client’s spell. Great timing, Champ.”
The spell! It all came back to Angel. Lilah had been planning something, and there had been victims, and some demons, and there was a wizard, and some chanting, and he’d accidentally knocked over some herbs and a cup of ceremonial oil had ended up smeared on both himself and Lilah as she headed for the nearest exit, and then there’d been some dark utterings just before he cut the wizard’s head off, and then… then he’d woken up with breasts.
Lilah’s breasts. Attached to Lilah’s body. Whereas Lilah was now--
“Whoops. Your lipstick is a little smeared.” Not-Angel leaned in, wiped at the corner of Angel’s mouth, and winked. “Now you just sit there like a good little former vamp and take care of my body. I’ll be wanting it back exactly the way you found it, or I might just decide keeping yours would be more fun.”
With one last tug to test the bonds, she-he-Lilah-in-Angel’s body walked away. Angel couldn’t help noticing, critically, the lanky body’s stride as it headed out the door.
“I don’t swing my hips that much!” he yelled, petulant, but Lilah was already gone.
::
“So,” Lilah breezed back in, wearing Angel’s body as casually as one of her designer suits. “You want the good news or the bad news first?”
Angel scowled.
“Okay, the good news.” Lilah grabbed a chair, spun it around backwards, and slung herself into it, arms braced across the back. “You and I are going to be spending some quality time in each other’s shoes. The mess you made will take some work to undo, and nobody local can handle it, since you so helpfully killed the one guy who could. I’ve got some leads I need to look into, but, shockingly, I don’t trust you with my body, which means, Stud,” Lilah leaned in and flicked at an invisible speck of dust on the collar of Angel’s-Lilah’s-the blouse Angel was currently wearing, since he was wearing Lilah’s body. “We’re going on a little road trip.”
::Lilah::
Lilah pressed down on the gas just a little harder, enjoying the smooth vibration as Angel’s convertible sped even faster through the night. Top down, and her hair wasn’t in any danger of getting messed up. She shifted gears, added a little more juice, and glanced over at the passenger seat.
Angel looked positively mortified about all the wind wreaking havoc with his carefully styled do, Lilah’s long tresses whipping about wildly.
Lilah switched lanes and sped on along the dark highway, smothering a grin. When life gives you an unexpected bodyswitch into your sworn enemy’s immortal body, she figured, you make lemonade.