Fic: Gender Theory 3/?
Gender Theory 3
pervious
LaShon parked the truck in front of an unfamiliar house. Xander assumed it was LaShon’s-why he brought them, Xander had no idea. Maybe to pick up some condoms, he thought miserably.
LaShon reached into the back seat and grabbed Xander’s clothes bag then climbed out of the truck. He came around and opened the passenger’s side door. He looked at Xander expectantly, waiting for him to slide out and join him on the curb.
Xander stared back, thinking there was no chance in hell he was visiting the rich boy’s fancy-smancy house. He refused to spend another minute with LaShon, let alone his family, especially after boning the guy less than fifteen minutes ago.
Besides, what would he talk about?
Hi, Mrs. Whitney, I had sex with your son at the hospital. Now that’s what I call Sexual Healing! Did I forget to mention I’m really a man in a woman’s body?
That’s exactly how it’d go, too. Besides having first hand knowledge LaShon wasn’t a virgin Xander didn’t know shit else about him. Well, he did know one other thing about LaShon: he had a girlfriend who put out. God, talk about embarrassing!
“You want me to carry you?” LaShon asked without an ounce of mockery in his voice.
“No,” Xander said. “Look… LaShon, I’m kind of tired and I’d like to go home, please.”
LaShon gave him a look then placed the back of his hand against Xander’s forehead. “Are you okay?”
Xander thoughts went all kablooey when LaShon touched him. LaShon’s skin felt exciting and familiar on his. Xander didn’t have to imagine how strong those hands were because LaShon used some of that strength on him. Xander also knew how dexterous those fingers were. They did all kinds of pleasurable-wrong, very wrong things to his girl-body.
“I’m fine,” Xander answered, trying to make himself calm down. He was relieved when LaShon took his hand away, because that helped.
“You don’t remember where you live,” LaShon said. “I say that’s a problem.”
Xander looked past LaShon’s shoulder and at the humongous two-story house behind him. It looked like the house from Leave it to Beaver, except bigger, more pretentious. A path leading up to the porch was puzzled together with white stones that might have been marble. The lawn was so green and perfectly groomed it looked like it belonged on a studio lot, too. Xander really wondered where the white picket fence was. Adjoining the house was a two-door garage and a driveway paved with the same kind of stone that made up the path.
Xander swung his head forward and looked out the windshield. When he saw the street they were on his brain was less able to accept what LaShon told him. It wasn’t Cordelia’s neighborhood, where the cheapest home would run you a couple million easy, but it was affluent enough that the Anthony and Jessica from his reality would be paying off the mortgage for forty years. Or until they died-which ever came first.
“Antonia?” LaShon said when Xander’d been staring and silent for a minute. Xander faced him, but still couldn’t speak.
“I’m… Okay. I just spaced out for a second,” Xander responded after gathering his admittedly meager faculties.
LaShon nodded then put his arm around Xander’s waist and carefully assisted him out of the truck. Thankfully, LaShon chose to take Xander at his word and didn’t ask more questions.
They walked up the white path to the fairer porch. LaShon knocked on the door, not using the brass knocker below the peephole but his knuckles.
Xander held his breath. He expected his mother to come to the door, and he wasn’t up to dealing with her. He didn’t have to worry because the woman who opened the door was not Jessica. An older woman with white hair pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head greeted them. She wore a gray maid’s uniform.
“Gotta be kidding me,” Xander muttered under his breath.
She waved them inside silently. She didn’t smile or offer salutations. Xander tried not to react when he saw the interior of the house, but it was hard. It was like walking into a Nineteenth century domicile. The floors seemed to be entirely hardwood, buffed and shined slick as glass. Everything looked ancient, brown, and expensive. It was the kind of place where kids aren’t supposed to run or play. Where touching stuff got the back of your hand smacked soundly.
Chillingly, it reminded Xander of his maternal grandmother’s house.
LaShon led him to a flight of stairs. The maid, or maybe the housekeeper, didn’t object to LaShon taking Xander upstairs to what he assumed was Antonia’s bedroom.
At the top of the stairs was a brief landing which lead into a long hallway with nine doors: four on the left, four on the right and one in the center at the end of the hallway.
Jesus, think they got enough room, is what Xander wanted to know.
LaShon continued to lead Xander down the hall, a single light fixture hanging from the ceiling illuminating their way. They stopped in front of the third door on the right and LaShon opened it. Xander let out a sigh of relief when he saw Antonia’s room wasn’t like the museum downstairs. He was doubly happy to see it wasn’t pink and loaded with dolls, either.
The room had gray carpeting and the curtains over the window matched. Even the wallpaper was gray, which was a nice neutral non-color in Xander’s opinion. On either side of to the four-poster bed sat nightstands with a small lamp on each of them. A writing desk and chair was across from the bed. On top of the desk sat a computer, a real nice one, too. Xander remembered Willow salivating over one just like it at the Radio Shack in the mall. There was a bendy-neck lamp on the desk as well. There was a light fixture embedded in the ceiling, it was off like the three lamps and only natural light brightened the room.
There were two doors in the room-one to the right of the window next to the desk, and another to the left of the window beside the bed.
Antonia’s bedroom was larger than his bedroom back home and it was neater. And the closest Xander had to a computer was his watch calculator.
Xander sat on the bed and watched LaShon walk to the other side of the room to the door by the nightstand. It had to lead to a closet, he guessed. LaShon opened it and bent forward to push the bag to the back of the closet; Xander averted his eyes when he realized he was admiring LaShon’s ass.
LaShon returned and sat next to him on the bed. He curled his arm around Xander’s middle, his fingers sneaking up past the hem of the tie-dye. “I can hang out if you want,” he said, as he began rubbing the tips of his fingers against Xander’s skin.
It was Xander’s belief he had enough of LaShon’s “hanging out” to last a lifetime. So he stretched his arms out in front of him, and after an exaggerated yawn he said, “Nah, I should get some rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. I’m gonna konk out any second,” Xander assured the other boy.
“Alright, then. That Rosenberg chick said she’d Email your homework to your Yahoo account.”
“Rosenberg chick? You mean Willow Rosenberg.” Xander hoped that’s whom LaShon meant.
“I thought you’d want to do some schoolwork while you’re recuperating.”
Xander didn’t want to catch up on his schoolwork, obviously, but LaShon’s words made him ecstatic. If Willow was handing out assignments that meant she was teaching Ms. Calendar’s Computer Science class. Computer Science was the only class at Sunnydale High that sent homework over the Internet.
Willow was alive. Xander had been frightened, on a subconscious level at least, that she died in this reality. It was kind of self-absorbed of him but Xander believed one of them had to be dead not be the other’s best friend, regardless of the reality they were in. Like only death could keep them apart. But it wasn’t the grave that made them strangers, or passing acquaintances, but a chromosomal happenstance.
LaShon kissed him on the temple. “Call me tonight, okay?” he said then got up to leave.
“Right.” Xander would not call him tonight, or any other night. He was going to be a quadrillion miles from here before night’s end.
LaShon left. And took with him the knot in Xander’s stomach. It was disgust. Of course it was disgust causing the tension. Having sex with LaShon was completely foul-there was no way Xander was lusting for more… just no way.
It was getting dark and that meant the Bronze was about to open. If he was going he needed to leave now before it got too dark. Xander’s conversation with Mrs. Summers had him convinced Buffy was slaying, which meant there had to be Vampires out there to be slain.
Before Xander got off the bed, he heard a faint chirping from the nightstand closest to him. After a moments hesitation Xander opened the top drawer and found a cell phone. He scooped up the device, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“So, you out?” the girl on the other end asked.
“Er… yeah,” Xander answered.
“I totally would have visited yesterday, but you know, Bathelzar had an opening and you just don’t cancel on Bathelzar! You okay then?”
“Yeah-”
“Great! We’re going to the Bronze, of course-wanna come?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“I guess you shouldn’t drive, huh? I’ll pick you up. Oh yeah, the Hosluttramp’s going to be there with you-know-who.”
“Really?” Xander asked, though he was more interested in who the hell he was talking to.
“At least we can talk about her clothes and her unfortunate complexion. And if she’s actually looking decent, we’ll make up shit to insult.”
“Right.”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
“See ya.”
The girl hung up.
“I wonder if I just agreed to be picked up by a demon,” Xander wondered aloud as he flipped the cell phone closed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” But at least he had safe way to get to the Bronze.
Xander checked behind the other door and found a complete bathroom. It was nothing extravagant, it was actually very standard: a ceramic sink, a cabinet with a couple of drawers comprised the vanity. The mirror on wall above the vanity also doubled as a medicine cabinet. A long blue throw rug covered the white tile floor, which lay next to a bone-white claw foot bathtub. The commode was unadorned the way a toilet should be.
Xander wanted to shower before he broke out of the mausoleum, but that was obviously out of the question. He noticed a small plastic stand attached to the end of the tub opposite its faucets. On it sat bottles of shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath, and a naked bar of Dove soap.
Xander hasn’t taken a bath since he was twelve-years-old. Twelve was when he learned to love showers because jacking off was easier standing.
He began running water in the tub, placing his fingers under the spout to test the temperature and adjusting it accordingly. He jammed in the rubber stopper then poured a capful of bubble bath into the water. He found clean towels under the sink, made himself blind to the Massengill also in there and picked out a body towel and a face towel. Xander hung the larger towel on the towel rod on the wall then folded the smaller over the edge of the tub.
While the bath filled, Xander stripped off his clothes. He shut off the spout then stepped inside tub and settled into the steaming bubbly water with a contented sigh. Then let out a short cry when his nipples dipped below the waterline.
Jesus Christ! And I thought dunking my nuts in hot water stung! Xander thought as he tried to get used to his tits boiling in the heat.
Xander thought about continuing his daily ritual of masturbating while bathing but couldn’t bring himself to go through with it in Antonia’s body. He already felt a little guilty about having sex with her boyfriend while she-technically-wasn’t present to enjoy it.
Xander stopped moving the wash towel over his arm and remembered how much he enjoyed it. He shook off the memory and diligently went back to cleaning himself. “No need to think about any more dirty-wrong-things,” he mumbled.
Anyway, touching his woo-ha, or rather Antonia’s woo-ha, felt just enough like a violation Xander resolved there’d be no touching down there except to wash. When Xander finished washing his hair he got out of the tub and pulled the stopper in the tub. He dried off then left the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his waist before he remembered he had more to hide than before.
Xander checked the closet and made a face at the selection of clothes he found-a bunch of dresses and blouses, girls stuff. Where were the jeans and T-shirts, Xander knew she had them. After a little more searching, Xander located a dresser under the bed, actually it was part of the bed frame. Xander found the threads he was looking for inside: a pair of jeans that had rips in several places-they were so Eighties-and a plain black T-shirt. There were socks in the dresser, too, and Xander put on a pair then went back into the bathroom and wore the shoes he left in there.
He was set-except for money. He could hardly avail himself of the Bronze’s admittedly few amenities without cash to purchase them with. He couldn’t ask Antonia’s folks for money, it’d feel weird, even though they seemed to be rolling in wealth and could certainly spare a few bucks. Then Xander remembered he saw a purse in the closet. After a brief search inside the purse, Xander found a woman’s wallet. The kind of over-sized thing girls kept their address book and credit cards as well as cash in. Xander didn’t find cash, but he did find two credit cards with Antonia’s name on them.
Xander never had a credit card and wasn’t sure how to go about using one. He decided to take them, he remembered enough about Cordelia using her plastic to know he wouldn’t have to give a PIN to buy stuff at the Bronze, just a signature that no one really looks at. He didn’t feel guilty about using the cards, it wasn’t as though he was going to put a down payment on a Convertible, and a few bottled waters was hardly going to leave Antonia with a huge debt to pay after he was gone.
After more deliberation, Xander also stuffed the cell phone in his back pocket. Then, finally, he was ready to go.
From the top of the stairs, Xander saw the white haired woman move past the bottom landing like a phantom. She didn’t appear to be doing anything in particular, but she held a feather duster in her hand and her head swept from side to side like some Aunt Bee Terminator hunting specks of dust. He waited until she walked out of sight before creeping down the stairs to the front door. Xander had no idea if the woman intended to stop him from leaving, but he wasn’t taking chances. He had to make contact with Buffy and Willow.
The sun was minutes away from setting below the horizon. Xander stood on the porch and watched the street. He didn’t want to wait on the curb for his ride, whoever they were, because he didn’t want the housekeeper to see him from any of the house’s many windows.
He wasn’t too worried about his folks catching him. If the mysterious girl stayed true to her word, she’d arrive in a few minutes. The chances of either Anthony or Jessica showing up before her were so slim… well Xander doubted even his luck was that crappy. Then he thought about it for a second, and after a quick calculation of the terrifying incidences that happened to him when he thought like that, Xander started preying for the girl to show up already.
A minute later, a sporty red convertible pulled up to the curb in front of the house. The top was up, the windows were down, and Xander heard The Backstreet Boys crooning from the car’s speakers. He wasn’t a friend with anyone from his world who had a car like that. He rushed down the stone path before the driver honked their horn and attracted unwanted attention. Xander hardly believed his eyes when he saw Harmony Kendall sitting behind the wheel.
“Are you wearing that?” she asked.
“Harmony?”
“Duh. Get in-Cordy’s going to have a herd if she shows up without her court waiting for her.” Harmony rolled her eyes then faced forward and drummed her hands against the steering wheel to I Want It That Way like it had a funky beat.
Oh, my God, I’m a Cordette! The realization staggered Xander and he nearly ran back into the house screaming in abject horror. But he needed to get to the Bronze and find his friends, so he screwed up his courage, crossed himself and got in the car.
Xander listened to Harmony gossip all the way to the Bronze. None of the jabber was useful. He didn’t know most of the people Harmony talked about. At first, Xander wondered how he was going to hold up his end of any conversation, but Harmony was more than happy to do all the talking. When they got to the Bronze, the parking lot was half full and small groups of teenagers were trooping towards the front entrance.
“Cordy’s not here yet,” Harmony said when she scanned the cars in the parking lot and didn’t see Cordelia’s. “Thank god. Don’t need to hear her bitching tonight. Devon’s out of town, I’m horny and cranky as hell!” By the time Harmony found an empty parking space under a street lamp, Xander convinced himself he never heard Harmony say that.
Harmony paid both their cover charges. Xander promised to pay for food and drinks. He followed her across the not yet crowded dance floor to an empty booth. Xander scanned for Buffy and Willow but didn’t see them. He decided to wait an hour, if they didn’t show he’d go to the high school. Xander wanted to talk to Buffy and Willow before approaching Giles with his story, he figured if he convinced the girls, Giles would fall in place no problem. If he had to, though, he’d confront this world’s Scoobs in their inner sanctum.
“So what happened to you?” Harmony asked.
They were seated on opposite sides of the booth, the jukebox playing something Indie and somber one booth over. Xander, who’d been periodically scanning the Bronze, faced Harmony and almost insulted her on reflex. He remembered they were there together and forced a smile onto his face.
“No big deal,” he said. “I wasn’t feeling too good and my folks took me to the hospital. They totally over-reacted.”
“Sounds like your dad, alright.”
“Yeah. I’m thirsty. What do you want?” Xander asked as he scooted out of the booth.
“Diet Coke. Ice.”
“Okay, be right back.”
Xander walked slowly to the bar, keeping an eye out for blondes and red heads. He ordered a Diet Coke for Harmony and a bottle of water for himself. He really could use a Yoo-hoo, but the nurse’s instructions were strong in his memory.
Again, he meandered as he returned to the booth then stopped dead when he saw Cordelia sitting in the spot he previously vacated. Harmony just nodded at something Cordelia said when Cordelia turned and noticed Xander standing several feet from the booth holding the drinks in his hands.
continued
pervious
LaShon parked the truck in front of an unfamiliar house. Xander assumed it was LaShon’s-why he brought them, Xander had no idea. Maybe to pick up some condoms, he thought miserably.
LaShon reached into the back seat and grabbed Xander’s clothes bag then climbed out of the truck. He came around and opened the passenger’s side door. He looked at Xander expectantly, waiting for him to slide out and join him on the curb.
Xander stared back, thinking there was no chance in hell he was visiting the rich boy’s fancy-smancy house. He refused to spend another minute with LaShon, let alone his family, especially after boning the guy less than fifteen minutes ago.
Besides, what would he talk about?
Hi, Mrs. Whitney, I had sex with your son at the hospital. Now that’s what I call Sexual Healing! Did I forget to mention I’m really a man in a woman’s body?
That’s exactly how it’d go, too. Besides having first hand knowledge LaShon wasn’t a virgin Xander didn’t know shit else about him. Well, he did know one other thing about LaShon: he had a girlfriend who put out. God, talk about embarrassing!
“You want me to carry you?” LaShon asked without an ounce of mockery in his voice.
“No,” Xander said. “Look… LaShon, I’m kind of tired and I’d like to go home, please.”
LaShon gave him a look then placed the back of his hand against Xander’s forehead. “Are you okay?”
Xander thoughts went all kablooey when LaShon touched him. LaShon’s skin felt exciting and familiar on his. Xander didn’t have to imagine how strong those hands were because LaShon used some of that strength on him. Xander also knew how dexterous those fingers were. They did all kinds of pleasurable-wrong, very wrong things to his girl-body.
“I’m fine,” Xander answered, trying to make himself calm down. He was relieved when LaShon took his hand away, because that helped.
“You don’t remember where you live,” LaShon said. “I say that’s a problem.”
Xander looked past LaShon’s shoulder and at the humongous two-story house behind him. It looked like the house from Leave it to Beaver, except bigger, more pretentious. A path leading up to the porch was puzzled together with white stones that might have been marble. The lawn was so green and perfectly groomed it looked like it belonged on a studio lot, too. Xander really wondered where the white picket fence was. Adjoining the house was a two-door garage and a driveway paved with the same kind of stone that made up the path.
Xander swung his head forward and looked out the windshield. When he saw the street they were on his brain was less able to accept what LaShon told him. It wasn’t Cordelia’s neighborhood, where the cheapest home would run you a couple million easy, but it was affluent enough that the Anthony and Jessica from his reality would be paying off the mortgage for forty years. Or until they died-which ever came first.
“Antonia?” LaShon said when Xander’d been staring and silent for a minute. Xander faced him, but still couldn’t speak.
“I’m… Okay. I just spaced out for a second,” Xander responded after gathering his admittedly meager faculties.
LaShon nodded then put his arm around Xander’s waist and carefully assisted him out of the truck. Thankfully, LaShon chose to take Xander at his word and didn’t ask more questions.
They walked up the white path to the fairer porch. LaShon knocked on the door, not using the brass knocker below the peephole but his knuckles.
Xander held his breath. He expected his mother to come to the door, and he wasn’t up to dealing with her. He didn’t have to worry because the woman who opened the door was not Jessica. An older woman with white hair pulled into a tight bun at the top of her head greeted them. She wore a gray maid’s uniform.
“Gotta be kidding me,” Xander muttered under his breath.
She waved them inside silently. She didn’t smile or offer salutations. Xander tried not to react when he saw the interior of the house, but it was hard. It was like walking into a Nineteenth century domicile. The floors seemed to be entirely hardwood, buffed and shined slick as glass. Everything looked ancient, brown, and expensive. It was the kind of place where kids aren’t supposed to run or play. Where touching stuff got the back of your hand smacked soundly.
Chillingly, it reminded Xander of his maternal grandmother’s house.
LaShon led him to a flight of stairs. The maid, or maybe the housekeeper, didn’t object to LaShon taking Xander upstairs to what he assumed was Antonia’s bedroom.
At the top of the stairs was a brief landing which lead into a long hallway with nine doors: four on the left, four on the right and one in the center at the end of the hallway.
Jesus, think they got enough room, is what Xander wanted to know.
LaShon continued to lead Xander down the hall, a single light fixture hanging from the ceiling illuminating their way. They stopped in front of the third door on the right and LaShon opened it. Xander let out a sigh of relief when he saw Antonia’s room wasn’t like the museum downstairs. He was doubly happy to see it wasn’t pink and loaded with dolls, either.
The room had gray carpeting and the curtains over the window matched. Even the wallpaper was gray, which was a nice neutral non-color in Xander’s opinion. On either side of to the four-poster bed sat nightstands with a small lamp on each of them. A writing desk and chair was across from the bed. On top of the desk sat a computer, a real nice one, too. Xander remembered Willow salivating over one just like it at the Radio Shack in the mall. There was a bendy-neck lamp on the desk as well. There was a light fixture embedded in the ceiling, it was off like the three lamps and only natural light brightened the room.
There were two doors in the room-one to the right of the window next to the desk, and another to the left of the window beside the bed.
Antonia’s bedroom was larger than his bedroom back home and it was neater. And the closest Xander had to a computer was his watch calculator.
Xander sat on the bed and watched LaShon walk to the other side of the room to the door by the nightstand. It had to lead to a closet, he guessed. LaShon opened it and bent forward to push the bag to the back of the closet; Xander averted his eyes when he realized he was admiring LaShon’s ass.
LaShon returned and sat next to him on the bed. He curled his arm around Xander’s middle, his fingers sneaking up past the hem of the tie-dye. “I can hang out if you want,” he said, as he began rubbing the tips of his fingers against Xander’s skin.
It was Xander’s belief he had enough of LaShon’s “hanging out” to last a lifetime. So he stretched his arms out in front of him, and after an exaggerated yawn he said, “Nah, I should get some rest.”
“Are you sure?”
“Very sure. I’m gonna konk out any second,” Xander assured the other boy.
“Alright, then. That Rosenberg chick said she’d Email your homework to your Yahoo account.”
“Rosenberg chick? You mean Willow Rosenberg.” Xander hoped that’s whom LaShon meant.
“I thought you’d want to do some schoolwork while you’re recuperating.”
Xander didn’t want to catch up on his schoolwork, obviously, but LaShon’s words made him ecstatic. If Willow was handing out assignments that meant she was teaching Ms. Calendar’s Computer Science class. Computer Science was the only class at Sunnydale High that sent homework over the Internet.
Willow was alive. Xander had been frightened, on a subconscious level at least, that she died in this reality. It was kind of self-absorbed of him but Xander believed one of them had to be dead not be the other’s best friend, regardless of the reality they were in. Like only death could keep them apart. But it wasn’t the grave that made them strangers, or passing acquaintances, but a chromosomal happenstance.
LaShon kissed him on the temple. “Call me tonight, okay?” he said then got up to leave.
“Right.” Xander would not call him tonight, or any other night. He was going to be a quadrillion miles from here before night’s end.
LaShon left. And took with him the knot in Xander’s stomach. It was disgust. Of course it was disgust causing the tension. Having sex with LaShon was completely foul-there was no way Xander was lusting for more… just no way.
It was getting dark and that meant the Bronze was about to open. If he was going he needed to leave now before it got too dark. Xander’s conversation with Mrs. Summers had him convinced Buffy was slaying, which meant there had to be Vampires out there to be slain.
Before Xander got off the bed, he heard a faint chirping from the nightstand closest to him. After a moments hesitation Xander opened the top drawer and found a cell phone. He scooped up the device, flipped it open and put it to his ear.
“Hello?”
“So, you out?” the girl on the other end asked.
“Er… yeah,” Xander answered.
“I totally would have visited yesterday, but you know, Bathelzar had an opening and you just don’t cancel on Bathelzar! You okay then?”
“Yeah-”
“Great! We’re going to the Bronze, of course-wanna come?”
“I was thinking about it.”
“I guess you shouldn’t drive, huh? I’ll pick you up. Oh yeah, the Hosluttramp’s going to be there with you-know-who.”
“Really?” Xander asked, though he was more interested in who the hell he was talking to.
“At least we can talk about her clothes and her unfortunate complexion. And if she’s actually looking decent, we’ll make up shit to insult.”
“Right.”
“Twenty minutes.”
“Okay.”
“See ya.”
The girl hung up.
“I wonder if I just agreed to be picked up by a demon,” Xander wondered aloud as he flipped the cell phone closed. “It wouldn’t be the first time.” But at least he had safe way to get to the Bronze.
Xander checked behind the other door and found a complete bathroom. It was nothing extravagant, it was actually very standard: a ceramic sink, a cabinet with a couple of drawers comprised the vanity. The mirror on wall above the vanity also doubled as a medicine cabinet. A long blue throw rug covered the white tile floor, which lay next to a bone-white claw foot bathtub. The commode was unadorned the way a toilet should be.
Xander wanted to shower before he broke out of the mausoleum, but that was obviously out of the question. He noticed a small plastic stand attached to the end of the tub opposite its faucets. On it sat bottles of shampoo, conditioner, bubble bath, and a naked bar of Dove soap.
Xander hasn’t taken a bath since he was twelve-years-old. Twelve was when he learned to love showers because jacking off was easier standing.
He began running water in the tub, placing his fingers under the spout to test the temperature and adjusting it accordingly. He jammed in the rubber stopper then poured a capful of bubble bath into the water. He found clean towels under the sink, made himself blind to the Massengill also in there and picked out a body towel and a face towel. Xander hung the larger towel on the towel rod on the wall then folded the smaller over the edge of the tub.
While the bath filled, Xander stripped off his clothes. He shut off the spout then stepped inside tub and settled into the steaming bubbly water with a contented sigh. Then let out a short cry when his nipples dipped below the waterline.
Jesus Christ! And I thought dunking my nuts in hot water stung! Xander thought as he tried to get used to his tits boiling in the heat.
Xander thought about continuing his daily ritual of masturbating while bathing but couldn’t bring himself to go through with it in Antonia’s body. He already felt a little guilty about having sex with her boyfriend while she-technically-wasn’t present to enjoy it.
Xander stopped moving the wash towel over his arm and remembered how much he enjoyed it. He shook off the memory and diligently went back to cleaning himself. “No need to think about any more dirty-wrong-things,” he mumbled.
Anyway, touching his woo-ha, or rather Antonia’s woo-ha, felt just enough like a violation Xander resolved there’d be no touching down there except to wash. When Xander finished washing his hair he got out of the tub and pulled the stopper in the tub. He dried off then left the bathroom with the towel wrapped around his waist before he remembered he had more to hide than before.
Xander checked the closet and made a face at the selection of clothes he found-a bunch of dresses and blouses, girls stuff. Where were the jeans and T-shirts, Xander knew she had them. After a little more searching, Xander located a dresser under the bed, actually it was part of the bed frame. Xander found the threads he was looking for inside: a pair of jeans that had rips in several places-they were so Eighties-and a plain black T-shirt. There were socks in the dresser, too, and Xander put on a pair then went back into the bathroom and wore the shoes he left in there.
He was set-except for money. He could hardly avail himself of the Bronze’s admittedly few amenities without cash to purchase them with. He couldn’t ask Antonia’s folks for money, it’d feel weird, even though they seemed to be rolling in wealth and could certainly spare a few bucks. Then Xander remembered he saw a purse in the closet. After a brief search inside the purse, Xander found a woman’s wallet. The kind of over-sized thing girls kept their address book and credit cards as well as cash in. Xander didn’t find cash, but he did find two credit cards with Antonia’s name on them.
Xander never had a credit card and wasn’t sure how to go about using one. He decided to take them, he remembered enough about Cordelia using her plastic to know he wouldn’t have to give a PIN to buy stuff at the Bronze, just a signature that no one really looks at. He didn’t feel guilty about using the cards, it wasn’t as though he was going to put a down payment on a Convertible, and a few bottled waters was hardly going to leave Antonia with a huge debt to pay after he was gone.
After more deliberation, Xander also stuffed the cell phone in his back pocket. Then, finally, he was ready to go.
From the top of the stairs, Xander saw the white haired woman move past the bottom landing like a phantom. She didn’t appear to be doing anything in particular, but she held a feather duster in her hand and her head swept from side to side like some Aunt Bee Terminator hunting specks of dust. He waited until she walked out of sight before creeping down the stairs to the front door. Xander had no idea if the woman intended to stop him from leaving, but he wasn’t taking chances. He had to make contact with Buffy and Willow.
The sun was minutes away from setting below the horizon. Xander stood on the porch and watched the street. He didn’t want to wait on the curb for his ride, whoever they were, because he didn’t want the housekeeper to see him from any of the house’s many windows.
He wasn’t too worried about his folks catching him. If the mysterious girl stayed true to her word, she’d arrive in a few minutes. The chances of either Anthony or Jessica showing up before her were so slim… well Xander doubted even his luck was that crappy. Then he thought about it for a second, and after a quick calculation of the terrifying incidences that happened to him when he thought like that, Xander started preying for the girl to show up already.
A minute later, a sporty red convertible pulled up to the curb in front of the house. The top was up, the windows were down, and Xander heard The Backstreet Boys crooning from the car’s speakers. He wasn’t a friend with anyone from his world who had a car like that. He rushed down the stone path before the driver honked their horn and attracted unwanted attention. Xander hardly believed his eyes when he saw Harmony Kendall sitting behind the wheel.
“Are you wearing that?” she asked.
“Harmony?”
“Duh. Get in-Cordy’s going to have a herd if she shows up without her court waiting for her.” Harmony rolled her eyes then faced forward and drummed her hands against the steering wheel to I Want It That Way like it had a funky beat.
Oh, my God, I’m a Cordette! The realization staggered Xander and he nearly ran back into the house screaming in abject horror. But he needed to get to the Bronze and find his friends, so he screwed up his courage, crossed himself and got in the car.
Xander listened to Harmony gossip all the way to the Bronze. None of the jabber was useful. He didn’t know most of the people Harmony talked about. At first, Xander wondered how he was going to hold up his end of any conversation, but Harmony was more than happy to do all the talking. When they got to the Bronze, the parking lot was half full and small groups of teenagers were trooping towards the front entrance.
“Cordy’s not here yet,” Harmony said when she scanned the cars in the parking lot and didn’t see Cordelia’s. “Thank god. Don’t need to hear her bitching tonight. Devon’s out of town, I’m horny and cranky as hell!” By the time Harmony found an empty parking space under a street lamp, Xander convinced himself he never heard Harmony say that.
Harmony paid both their cover charges. Xander promised to pay for food and drinks. He followed her across the not yet crowded dance floor to an empty booth. Xander scanned for Buffy and Willow but didn’t see them. He decided to wait an hour, if they didn’t show he’d go to the high school. Xander wanted to talk to Buffy and Willow before approaching Giles with his story, he figured if he convinced the girls, Giles would fall in place no problem. If he had to, though, he’d confront this world’s Scoobs in their inner sanctum.
“So what happened to you?” Harmony asked.
They were seated on opposite sides of the booth, the jukebox playing something Indie and somber one booth over. Xander, who’d been periodically scanning the Bronze, faced Harmony and almost insulted her on reflex. He remembered they were there together and forced a smile onto his face.
“No big deal,” he said. “I wasn’t feeling too good and my folks took me to the hospital. They totally over-reacted.”
“Sounds like your dad, alright.”
“Yeah. I’m thirsty. What do you want?” Xander asked as he scooted out of the booth.
“Diet Coke. Ice.”
“Okay, be right back.”
Xander walked slowly to the bar, keeping an eye out for blondes and red heads. He ordered a Diet Coke for Harmony and a bottle of water for himself. He really could use a Yoo-hoo, but the nurse’s instructions were strong in his memory.
Again, he meandered as he returned to the booth then stopped dead when he saw Cordelia sitting in the spot he previously vacated. Harmony just nodded at something Cordelia said when Cordelia turned and noticed Xander standing several feet from the booth holding the drinks in his hands.
continued