Summary: The Scoobies have a small accident that leads
to some major changes in their lives
Rating: NC17
Timing: Takes place S5, shortly after Family but before Fool for Love
Disclaimer All kinds of gender stereotypes were harmed
in the writing of this story. Any injured copyrights were unintentional
Notes Mydeira is my Beta Nazi, but she knows I'm her bitch.
This story was inspired by a very old Star Trek fanfic titled The Procrustean Petard,
by Sondra Marshak and Myrna Culbreath. Of course, they didn't actually have sex in theirs . . .
The title is a quote from Storm Front, by Jim Butcher.
You haven't lived until you've heard James say those three words
together in that soft, caramel rich voice of his . . . guh.
Chapter 14 Female Hysteria
Xander slept to the decadently late hour (for a construction worker) of ten in the morning before dragging himself out of bed and into the shower. He didn’t linger, but did enjoy a quick breast fondle. These things were kind of nice to have all the time instead of just getting to play with them occasionally. He wondered in passing if Anya felt the same way about her new toys.
He toweled off and ran a brush through his hair, grateful that whatever made the magic make them the way they were decided to give him short hair. His coarse waves held a nice shape without the use of all of the mystifying products and tools Anya seemed to need every morning.
Dress for the day was blue jeans and a t-shirt, not all that different from what he normally wore. Except for how he filled it out, of course.
He had breakfast and washed up the few dishes. Then he looked around for something else to do. Well, it was garbage day for the complex. One of his domestic duties was trash guy, no reason that had to change just because he was a she. Unless it was in the Rules for Being a Girl Handbook somewhere and he didn’t know it.
He had to get a copy of that book.
As he started gathering up the trash, he realized sheepishly that each can provided a map of their sexual activities over the last several days. Two condoms in the waste can in the kitchen, three in the living room. Seven in the bedroom. “Go, us!” None in the bathroom.
Wait, that couldn’t be right, could it?
He thought back. No, that first time they had made it back to the bedroom. And last night in the shower, they hadn’t actually . . .
And then it hit him.
Yesterday morning, after he’d helped her shave. They had . . . and she hadn’t . . . and he didn’t . . .
He sank down onto the toilet seat in horror.
“Oh my god.”
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