Feedback: I’ll be your bitch for feedback, but please, no flames.
Distribution: Just ask me. After I get over the initial shock, I’m sure I’ll say yes.
Disclaimer: I do not claim any rights to these characters. I’m just using them for my own twisted gratification. Thus no profit. No copyright infringement intended.
Warning: This is slash; there will be smut and a lot of naughty language. If you do not like this kind of fic, don’t read it. Consider yourself warned.
A/N: In Tabula Rasa, Anya mispronounces her name as ‘Ainya’. In order to illustrate the mispronunciation, it will be spelled as ‘Ainya’ until the spell is over. Also, this story will incorporate dialog from the show.
Thanks: To Mel for the beta and the encouragement. If it hadn’t been for her, I’d still be reading het.
Dedication: To all the girls (and guy) from Moonlight Rising: Mel, Margie, Shanna, Willa, and Eric. I probably wouldn’t have gotten my act together if they hadn’t goosed my muse.

Road to Poofdom


Part One

Spike burst through the door, flinging the smoking blanket to the floor. He knew his get-up would cause a reaction, and he wasn't disappointed. It took a moment, though. Everyone was too busy dropping their jaws to the bloody floor.


"Holy moly," Anya commented, her eyebrows shooting toward her hairline.

"You need to give me asylum."

Xander's mouth was opening and closing, gaping like a fish. "I'll say." His eyes went from the top of the blonde head down to the toes of his high-heeled shoes. Yup. High-heeled shoes. He was wearing a long, wavy, pale blonde wig that fell past his shoulders. His eyes were accentuated with eyeliner and mascara, making them impossibly large and blue. His sharp cheekbones were accented with blush; his lips were shiny and red, as were his nails. Spike wore a black wrap-dress with a low neckline. The skirt fell to just below his knee. His legs were covered in silky stockings and ended with black, high-heeled pumps. A red, silk scarf wrapped casually around his throat completed the ensemble.

Spike was dressed as a woman. And, damn, he didn't look half-bad. Xander swallowed hard.

"No need to get cute." Spike smirked, gracefully pulling a lock of blonde hair away from his face. "One might think that you'd never seen a bloke in a dress before." He stopped and looked at the open mouths. "It's a disguise, you sheer and utter gits! And shut your bloody gobs! It's not polite to stare, ya know. Happens there's a bloke I'd rather not see just now."

Spike walked farther into the store, everyone's eyes following the sway of his hips across the room. He hopped onto the counter and crossed his legs, adjusting the skirt over his knee. "You met him, I believe," he addressed Buffy. "Toothy bloke with the baby-seal breath?"

Buffy rolled her eyes, crossed her arms, and huffed in his general direction.

Spike continued while adjusting his scarf, "Nasty fellow, him. And ugly too. He's got a mouthful of choppers just waiting to be yanked out and worn as necklaces."

"Maybe," Buffy commented, a wry smile upon her face, "but it sooo wouldn't go with that outfit. And why dress in drag, Spike? Just been dying to get in touch with your inner tramp?"

"What?" Spike exclaimed. "I do not look trampy…I'd bet! It's what was on-hand." Buffy arched an eyebrow at this, but Spike continued, exasperated, "It's a soddin' disguise, you twits! The idea is to look as different as possible. What the hell should I have done? Channel my inner watcher and don effing tweed? Not bloody likely!" Spike looked at her, annoyed, and crossed his legs the other way, forgetting in his consternation to adjust the skirt, and flashed everyone with the top of his thigh-high, black lace-topped stocking. Everyone's eyes flicked to his thigh, and Spike jumped off the counter and glared at the assembly.

Xander smiled wickedly, winked at Anya, and sidled up next to Spike, putting his arm around his waist. "Awww. Look. You got her all upset. I just can't help myself. I see a lady in need, and I just must defend her honor." He took off his jacket and made a show of putting it around Spike's shoulders before returning his arm to Spike's waist and hugging him, none too gently, to his side. "After all, he is a poor, defenseless…working girl."

Spike glared at Xander.

Xander continued, "He doesn't look that trampy, Buffy. I'm sure he'll have no trouble finding a date…for ten dollars, or so."

Spike slapped Xander's hands away, ignoring the accompanying twinge from the chip.

"Don't touch the merchandise, you poof."

"I got news for you, Spikerella; I'm not the one looking 'poofy' here. You've definitely got the market cornered on that one. And, speaking of corners, shouldn't you be out on one now, trying to drum up business?"

Spike narrowed his eyes and opened his mouth to deliver what would no doubt be a scathing retort, but was interrupted by Giles.

The watcher arched his eyebrow at Xander and Spike, sighed, and removed his glasses. He began to polish them with a handkerchief from his pocket. "Well, now that we've recovered from Spike and Xander's…sartorial humor, I'll jump to the chase." He glanced at Buffy. "Um, I'm headed back to England and I plan to stay. Indefinitely." He sat next to Anya and across from Tara at the table and took in everyone's surprised look.

"Now?" Xander exclaimed, shocked. He waved his arms about, narrowly missing whacking Spike in the face. "Not now, I mean, not after…everything."

Giles put his glasses back on the bridge of his nose and placed the handkerchief back in his pocket. "Yes, now."

"For real this time?" Anya asked. "'Cause honest to Pete, a young shopkeeper's heart can only take so much. I mean, not that I want you to go…"

"I can't do this," Buffy began, working up a good rant. She walked past Dawn quickly, moving towards the door, talking as she went, "I just, I don't think..." Dawn leaned against the bookshelves. She was obviously upset.

"Buffy, listen," Willow blurted, desperate to defuse the situation. She stepped from behind Tara’s chair and began to walk closer to Buffy.

Buffy stopped and turned back towards her friends.

Willow continued, "I know this must be awful for you, and I, I'm sorry. I'm so sorry for... "

Buffy interrupted, "Sorry. Everybody's sorry. I know that you guys are just trying to help, but it's just, it's too much. And, and I, I…can't take it any more." She began to cry. "If you guys, if you guys understood how it felt - how it feels. It's like I'm dying, it…" Buffy stopped as she fell to the floor, unconscious.

The others fell like dominoes; Giles and Anya slumped over together in their seats. Willow and Dawn collapsed where they stood; Tara went slack in her chair. And Spike slid to the floor in front of the counter, landing right in Xander's lap.


He began to stir when the light flicked on, mildly irritated at being disturbed. He was comfy. He became aware of a soft, firm thigh that his hand was stroking gently. He opened his eyes, and the first thing he saw was an amazing pair of blue-er than blue eyes with long, black lashes gazing into his. The eyes glanced down at his stroking hand. He followed the eyes down and realized that his hand was under the other person's skirt. He snatched his hand back as though it had been burnt, and the other person jumped away from him, startled.

"Uh, s-sorry, uh…" He scrambled up and offered his hand, while looking away. "Uh, ma'am." He looked back toward the other person as he felt their hand in his and gulped. "Sorry, uh…mister, um…lady…ugh, just sorry," his voice ended on a squeak.

Those blue eyes stared back at him as though in shock, and dropped his hand. "No worries."

The others began to stir. A redheaded girl was the next to awake. "Hey."

He said, "Hey," back. He was still reeling from having felt up a man. A really, really pretty man with soft skin and amazing blue eyes, and Oh my God, am I gay? Not that there's anything wrong with that, went through his mind.

The couple across the room woke up next. The young woman yawned, disturbing the older man whose head was resting on her shoulder. The man's eyes flicked down to the drool on the woman's shoulder and he surreptitiously wiped it away with his hand. They looked at one another, shocked.

The girl with kinda odd, two-toned blonde hair was the next to wake up; she looked around the room in confusion, still sitting in her chair.

The older man decided to speak to the young woman at his side. "Hello?" She smiled fetchingly.

The soft-spoken greeting caused the teenaged girl to awaken. "Who…who are you people?" she exclaimed fearfully, looking around at everyone. Her eyes stopped at the blue-eyed man in the dress and she gulped.

Another girl, probably the one who’d flicked the light on, came across the room and knelt at her side, trying to comfort the cringing girl. "Don't worry."

Big, teary eyes looked up at her. "Please don't hurt me!"

The girl patted the teenager's shoulder, and said, "Oh, it's okay. I don't know anyone here either."

"Yeah? Who are you?"

"I, uh..."

The young man had had enough. He was gay, probably, had just copped a feel of some blond guy in a dress, and he had no idea where the hell he was, or for that matter, who the hell these people were. He voiced his thoughts, well, some of them. "Okay, who are you freaks?"

Everyone stood up.

The redhead spoke first. "You don't know me?"

He shook his head. "Not a clue."

"But you were just all like 'oh, hey.'"

"Well, you said 'hey' first! You're a girl; I was being polite!"

"Yeah? Well, I am a girl!" She touched her breasts to verify. "But, I'm pretty sure he's not!" She pointed at the man in the dress and continued, "I'm not sure who I am exactly, but..."

"Okay, why was I on the floor with…with…" He pointed at the blond man. "…and why are you all staring at me? Is this some kind of psych test? Am I getting paid for this?"

The older man spoke, "It's not just you. Does anyone remember anything?"

Everyone shook their head. The blond glanced over at the young man under his lashes. "Nope."

The older man continued, "Well, maybe we all got terribly drunk and this is some sort of, uh, blackout."

The teenager replied uncertainly, "I don't think I drink."

The woman next to the older man spoke up, "I-I don't see any booze. I don't feel any head bumps." She looked around. "And despite what that man is wearing, I don't see Allen Funt."

"Who?" the older man queried. The blond man simply glared at her.

The young man had really had enough. "Okay. I'm not panicking. I'm not! I'm not!" Everyone turned to look at him. "Stop looking at me like I'm panicking!"

Girl number one took it upon herself to take control of the situation and walked towards him, trying to calm him down. "Hey, hey, take it easy, guy. Okay, no one's hurt, right? And, and none of us look all hatchety-murdery..." She glanced at the blond man and swallowed. "…so we're probably safe. Here. Wherever here is."

The redhead began looking around. "Look at this stuff on these shelves. Weird jars of weird stuff. A-and weird books with weird covers, like…" She paused, picking up a book from the counter. "…Magic for Beginners." She turned around. "Oh!"

The two-toned blonde girl got up, remarking, "This is a magic shop. A-a-a real magic shop."

"Well, maybe that's it. Maybe something magic happened," little Miss-in-charge stated, as the young man had started calling her in his head. She turned back to the blond guy. "That would explain a lot."

The blond man crossed his arms and began to tap the tip of his high-heeled shoe huffily. The young man touched his elbow and gave him a soft apologetic smile. He smiled back, ducking his chin bashfully.

The older man scoffed, "Magic! Magic's all balderdash and chicanery. I'm afraid we don't know a bloody thing."

Everyone turned to look at him.

"Except I seem to be British, don't I?" he continued. "Uh, and a man. With...glasses." He removed his glasses and smiled hopefully. "Well, that narrows it down considerably."

The teen began to whine, "I don't like this."

Little Miss-in-charge rushed over to the girl. "It's okay, don't worry. We'll take care of each other." She brushed a lock of hair away from the child's face. The girl smiled back tentatively.

The Brit gave his opinion to the crowd, stating, "We'll all get our memory back, and it'll all be right as rain."

The blond man finally spoke up, "Oh, listen to Mary Poppins. He's got his crust all stiff and upper with that nancy-boy accent. You Englishmen are always so... Bloody hell!"

The young man groaned inwardly. God, that accent! That deep, rich voice. Yup. He practically shivered at the sound. He was so gay. He watched as the blond man began to tick off on his red-tipped fingers.

"Sodding, blimey, shagging, knickers, bollocks, oh God! I'm English!"

The first Brit said, disdainfully looking the blond man up and down, "Welcome to the nancy tribe. Although it appears you're nancy enough for all of us."

The blond looked at him inquiringly. "You don't suppose you and I? We're not related, are we?"

The woman next to the Brit contributed, saying, "There is a, um, sort of resemblance."

The older Brit glared at her and she continued, "A ruggedly handsome resemblance." She smiled up at him, seemingly relieved when he smiled back.

The older man turned back to the blond Brit. "And you do inspire a, um, particular feeling of familiarity - and disappointment."

The blond man walked up to him, his heels clicking on the floor. They look at one another, scowling in disapproval.

"Older brother?" the bespectacled man offered.

The younger man scoffed, "Father. Oh, god, how I must hate you!" He turned and stalked back over to the dark-haired man, shoving his arms through his jacket as he went.

The older man was nonplussed. "What did I do?"

"There's always something; look at how I'm dressed! If this isn't a bleeding cry for masculine attention, I don't know what is. It-it's positively sodding Freudian, that's what it is! And what's with the trollop?" He pointed at the woman next to his supposed father.



"Yes, her, Daddy Dearest! I saw you! Sleeping together."

"Resting together," the man retorted. "Plus, I wouldn't exactly be pointing fingers, sonny. You were snuggled up to that hulk of a boy not ten minutes ago, and you haven't left his side since!"

The hulk of a boy in question giggled nervously. When the blond man looked at him, eyebrow arched gracefully, he shrugged and scooted even closer.

"Look! It's okay. We're engaged," the sort-of step-mum exclaimed. "It's a lovely ring." She beamed up at the man and he smiled down at her.

The blond man's chin trembled slightly and he commented contemptuously, "Oh, great, a tarty step-mom who's half old Daddy's age."

"Tarty?" the woman shouted. "You're one to talk! I'm not the one with the plunging neckline! Why don't you go listen to some Judy Garland and leave your father and me alone?"

"Old? You little twerp, I'm young enough to still get carded," the father proclaimed, discounting his son's knowing smirk.

Meanwhile, the redhead had an epiphany. "Carded! Driver's licenses!"

The glasses-wearing Brit began to pat himself down. "I'm sure I have my PFLAG membership card on me somewhere." He looked over at his son in disgust, only to receive the two-finger salute.

Everyone dove into their pockets and purses to dig out ID.

He opened his wallet. "It's me! 'Alexander Harris.' Cute picture. Hey, I exist." He held up his wallet and glanced toward the blond at his right, smiling nervously. My name's Alex, he thought to himself. I wonder what his name is? God, he's so pretty. Alex's eyes dropped down to the blond's full, red lips.

"Hi Alex," the blond man greeted him softly.

The redhead spoke next, "I'm Willow Rosenberg. Heh, Willow. Funny name."

"I think it's pretty," the two-toned blonde girl replied.

Willow smiled back and asked the blonde, "Whadda you got?"

"Tara, and look, I'm a student at U.C. Sunnydale."

"Me too!" Willow replied. "Hey, maybe we're study buddies!"

The teen frowned. "I don't have a wallet."

The girl next to her touched her arm. "Don't worry. Me neither. But here, look." She gestured to the necklace around the young girl's neck. "You're Dawn."

"Or, Umad," the girl retorted, smiling.

"I'm, uh, called Rupert Giles," the older man stated.

"Rupert," the woman next to him said seductively, batting her eyelashes.

The blond man giggled, "Rupert!"

Rupert glared at his son. "You're not too old to put across my knee, you know, sonny. Anyway, what did I call you?"

The blond didn't have a wallet; there were no pockets in his dress, and he didn't seem to be carrying a purse. He was wearing a man’s jacket that did not match his dress, with the name 'Harris' embroidered on the front. "I don't know, but it seems as though I'm wearing Alex's jacket."

Alex squared his shoulders. "Well, I-I guess that means I'm your boyfriend, then. I mean, with the way we woke up and you wearing my jacket, huh?"

The blond looked at him, surprised, yet pleased, and replied, "I'm sorry, Alex. It's just that this is such a shock; not knowing who we are 'n all."

Rupert snorted.

Alex ignored the annoying Brit and guided his boyfriend to a chair. "Here, why don't you sit down? And hey. What's that?"

The blond looked down. The hem of his dress had flipped back and there was a label sewn into the edge. " says 'Made with care for Randi.'" He looked at his father angrily. "Randy Giles? Why not just call me 'Horny Giles,' or 'Desperate for a Shag Giles'? I knew there was a reason I hated you!"

"Randy's a family name, undoubtedly." He smirked at his son. "Besides I imagine it is ever so easy to spell with an 'i' at the end. Maybe with a little heart at the top?"

Alex glared at him, his jaw clenching in anger. "Rupert is it? Look, this is stressful for everyone, and I admit to panicking a bit, but what kind of man takes it out on his own son? I know I don't remember anyone here, but I don't think I like the way you're talking to Randy."

"That is quite enough. Randy is my son, and I'll talk to him any way I bloody well please. I don't need any points from my pillow-biting son's homosexual, yet butch, boyfriend, thank you very much."

Alex stepped forward, his eyes flashing, until Randy grasped his sleeve and tugged, gently. "Alex."

Rupert held up his hands and nodded, backing down. "You're right, of course. I apologize Randy, Alex. I let the stress of the situation overcome my sense of decorum. I will endeavor to not let it happen again."

Alex nodded back, placated for the time being.

The step-mother of sorts blurted out, "I'm Ainya!" All eyes turned toward the cash register.

She continued, "Um, this key fits this lock. And, uh, the forms next to the cash register say that, uh, Rupert and, and Ainya own the shop together.

Rupert walked over to Ainya. "This is our magic shop? Uh, well, that's very, uh, uh, progressive of me."

Dawn turned to the girl next to her. "So you don't have a name?"

The girl shrugged, replying, "Of course I do. I just don't happen to know it."

"You want me to name you?"

"Oh, that's sweet, but I think I can name myself. I'll name me...Joan. "


"What? Did you just 'ugh' my name?"


Randy tuned out the girls' arguing and studied the man at his side. He was handsome. No doubt about that. Major white knight complex. Thick dark hair, deep brown eyes, broad shoulders, muscular upper arms, other attributes, he admitted, his eyes drifting down.

But he still felt so sodding confused; he knew there had to be a reason he was in his father's shop. Dressed like a woman. With his…gulp…boyfriend. He didn't feel like a ruddy poof. But then, how would he know what a poof felt like unless he could remember he was a poof? Bloody hell. That made absolutely no fecking sense whatsoever. What did the circumstances say he was? A cross-dressing man with a hot, beefy boyfriend, and a disapproving father in the midst of one hell of a midlife crisis. Okay, then.

Part Two

"No! I just...I mean, it's so blah. Joan?"

"I like it. I feel like a Joan."

"Fine, that's your purgative."


Alex looked down at Randy. He had felt his eyes on him. Knew he was looking up at him. Despite his actions, he was so confused. He had no memory of his life, of Randy. Why did he feel so drawn to him, so protective? He wondered what Randy was wearing under that dress. He wondered what Randy looked like out of that dress. And how soon could he find out? Huh. He was feeling desire for another man. He looked around at the other women. Yes, they were attractive. He could appreciate the soft round curves. Yes, they were alluring, but none as much as the man next to him.

He wondered what Randy would look like in a tight pair of jeans and a tee shirt. Was it getting hot in here? And hey, the girls were hugging. When did that happen? Sisters? Huh.

Randy piped up to his father, pointing at the girls, "You never showed me affection like that, I'd wager!"

Rupert looked at his son and rolled his eyes.

Joan spoke up, "Well, we need to figure out what's going on. We need to get help."

Randy smirked. "Looks like Joan fancies herself the boss."

Joan narrowed her eyes. "We have a kid here, Candy…"


"Whatever. A teenager. And we have no idea what's wrong with us. I think a hospital's our best bet."

Ainya was smoothing Rupert's vest, a hot, seductive look in her eyes. Rupert cleared his throat. "Ah, yes, quite right, let's, um, let's head out, shall we?" He held out his arm and waited for Ainya to take it. She grasped it and snuggled close.

Alex offered his arm to Randy. "Oh, pet. Such a gentleman, you are," Randy whispered huskily as he took Alex's arm, feeling the muscles flex under his hand. Alex blushed and surrendered a tiny smile. Everyone walked toward the door.

"Any suggestions on how we're gonna get there?" Joan asked.

Randy's lips curved up in an evil, mischievous smile as he said, "Dad can drive. He's bound to have some classic midlife-crisis transport." He pouted his lips at his father. "Something red, shiny, shaped like a penis."

"Well, son, if anyone here has a penis obsession, I'd say it was you," Rupert hissed out through clenched teeth.

Alex rolled his eyes. "Come on guys, can't we all just get along? Please?" He covered Randy's hand on his arm with his other hand and squeezed it.

Joan opened the door. There were vampires outside, snarling, flashing their fangs. They all screamed in unison. Joan slammed the door as everyone dropped to the floor and huddled together.

"Did you guys see that?" Joan asked breathlessly.

"Vampires!" Randy exclaimed, scooting closer to Alex.

Tara offered, "Maybe it's Halloween."

"It doesn't feel like Halloween," Dawn retorted.

Damn, Randy had a strong grip. Alex spoke up, "Even if it is, those guys are definitely not kids, and those are definitely not costumes. Randy's right. Looks like we have vampires."

The vampires banged on the door, hissing, "Slayer!"

Randy scooted right onto Alex's lap and threw his arms around his neck. Alex responded; in all sorts of ways. "They're definitely not knocking for candy."

Joan queried, "I thought he said his name was Randy?"

"Dear god, but you're a stupid bint," Randy observed.

The redhead rolled her eyes and said, "Okay, doors. We need to check to see if there's other doors, a-and make sure they're locked, and put large objects in front of them. Come on."

Alex set Randy aside and kissed him lightly on the cheek. "I'm going to help check the doors. I'll be right back, I promise."

As he stood and walked away, Randy reached up and touched his cheek in wonder. Alex had kissed him. Just his cheek, sure, but kissed him nonetheless. It was nice. He smiled.

Joan stated, "Monsters are real. Did we know this?"

"I don't know, " Tara answered, "but we n-need our memories back. We have to get to a hospital."

Rupert cleared his throat again. "As, uh, proprietor of a magic shop, I propose we fight them. We can use things here in the shop, you know, magic tricks or whatever."

The vampires began banging on the door again, peering through the window and yelling, "Send out Spike!"

"They seem to want spikes," Rupert commented.

Randy remembered seeing something in a bag next to the counter. "Oh!" He jumped up, grabbed the bag, and brought it back to the group. He reached in and pulled out a handful of spikes. "Let's give 'em these!"

Rupert smiled at his son and praised him, "Well done."

Dawn piped up, "But wait, what are they going to do with them?"

"Who the bloody hell cares, Umad?" Randy rolled his eyes at her, tucking some of the spikes in his jacket pocket.

"Bite me, Candy," she threw back.

The vamps shouted, "Slayer, come out and play!"

"'Slay her’, that's just what they said before," Tara said, horrified. "Th-th-they're gonna use the spikes to…"

"To slay someone?" Joan asked, finishing Tara's sentence. "A female someone! Who do those jerks think they are?"

"Bloodsuckers," Ainya said matter-of-factly. "They kill by sucking blood. Take it easy, Joan."

Alex and Willow came back into the room, Alex's eyes immediately sought out Randy's and he smiled. "Hey, there's some kind of weird gym in the back room. We also found a trap door in the basement; it seems to lead to the sewer."

Ainya scurried up from her spot on the floor. "Let's go!"

Alex stalled everyone. "Wait guys. Just wait one sec. Now, I may not remember much, but I do think I know this: It's night. Vampires like the night. I may want to get my memories back as much as the next person, but I don't want to get munched on while trying to do it."

"As much as it pains me to say it…" Rupert took off his glasses and pinched the bridge of his nose. "…my son's boyfriend is right. We should make our way to the hospital in the morning. Now, what else can anyone remember about vampires?"

"They don't like holy water, right?" Dawn contributed, looking up at her sister, Joan, who squeezed her shoulder and smiled.

"O-oh! And they can't come in unless you invite them!" Willow called out, excitedly.

Suddenly glass exploded and a vampire began to climb in through the window. Everyone yelled and ran for the back of the room.

Alex yelled out, "Homes! They can't come into your home unless they are invited! Look, let's gear up with some holy water and…crosses! Yeah, that's it. A-and make our way to our homes."

Joan nodded. "Yeah, good idea. If we split up, we'll have a better chance. We'll meet at the hospital tomorrow morning. Oh, geez, where do we live, Dawn?"

"Hey!" Willow exclaimed. "My ID says I live on Revello drive."

"Me, too," Tara interjected.

"That must be the dorm! You and Dawn can come with us."

The vamps broke through the door, rushed into the store and grabbed Randy, slamming him up against a bookcase. "You owe us!" the vamp growled out.

"Fine! Take your damn spikes!" Randy exclaimed, pulling them from his jacket and shoving them at the vampire. They clattered to the floor.

Alex grabbed one of the spikes from the floor and plunged it into the vamp's back, dusting him. Randy looked at him in awe. Hell, Alex looked down at his hand in awe. "That was bloody brilliant, pet."

"Stay behind me, Randy," he said, shoving Randy behind him. Then he reached over and grabbed a couple bottles of holy water and a cross.

More vamps were attacking the others in the shop. Alex looked around and saw they were holding their own. "We have to get out of here, Randy. Back to my place."

Randy looked over Alex's shoulder. "But what about them?"

Alex turned and looked into Randy's eyes. It wasn't hard; the black pumps made them the same height. "You're the one who's important to me, not them."

So lost in one another's gaze were they, that they didn't notice the two vampires coming at them until one wrenched Alex away. Alex grappled with the vamp while Randy was tossed against the shelves again.

"You owe us," the monster said, looking him up and down in disgust. "I never knew you were a fruit. Wait till the boss hears about this."

"Who, me?"

"Yeah, you. You've got the boss's kittens."

"Kittens?" Randy kneed him in the groin and stepped over the vamp as he was curled in a fetal position on the floor.

Joan wheeled around and started beating on the vamp who was trying to strangle Alex. He let Alex go and started to reach for Randy.

"Hey! Stay away from Candy!" she yelled as she beat him into a bloody pulp.

"It's Randy! Randy! You stupid bint!"


She grabbed a spike from the floor and dispatched the vampire, then turned and made quick work of the other vamps in the room.

Everyone stared at her wide-eyed.


"How…how did you…"

"What did you just do?"

A slow smile came across Joan's face. "I don't know. But it was cool!" She turned around and said, "Is everybody okay? Rupert, Ainya, Willow…Candy?"



Another vamp stuck his head through the broken window and yelled out, "The boss ain't gonna like this! I'll be back. And I won't be alone!"

Joan ran forward, shut and locked the door, and dropped the metal security grate down over the storefront.

She turned and addressed the crowd, "I think I know why Joan's the boss. I'm like a superhero or something!"

"Well hoo-bloody-rah. Now what the hell are we gonna do, Superbint? And my man got one too, ya know."

Alex hurried to Randy's side.

Superbint spoke, "Okay. I've got a plan."

"I'm all ears," Alex sighed out.

"Finally!" Randy exclaimed.

"They seem to want Randy," Joan said, emphasizing the name. "And I seem to be pretty strong. Wicked strong. So, you guys go through the back room or into the sewers to get home, and I'll give the monsters a run for their money."

"That's your plan?"


"Right, then." Randy turned to his boyfriend. "Let's get the bloody hell out of here, Alex, okay?"

"You got it. I've got some car keys in my pocket; I think they're to the car I saw out back," Alex informed them.

"I'm not leaving the shop. I have to protect the cash register, and do some spells," Ainya explained.

Rupert sighed, resigned. "Oh. Well, magic might help, yes, it's worth a shot."

Joan squared her shoulders and said, "All right. You work on that then. We need to go. I'll cover you, Alex. Can you drop the girls at home, too?"

"Absolutely. Good plan. I'm ready when you are, Joan." Alex reached over and grasped Randy's hand. "You stay right next to me, okay?

Randy nodded, gripping Alex's hand firmly.

"Wait, one moment please," Rupert said. "Um, son. Come here please."

Randy let go of Alex's hand reluctantly and stepped towards his father.

Rupert put his arms around Randy and hugged him awkwardly.

Randy stepped back. "Right."

Rupert said, "Good, then," careful to not make any actual eye contact.

Alex stepped forward and put his hand in the small of Randy's back, guiding him gently towards the back. They all made it to the car; luckily, the keys worked. Alex held the door for Randy and closed it once he got in. "Ladies? Everybody settled?" he asked the others.

Joan followed him around to the driver's side and shut the door after he got in. He rolled down the window and said, "Joan, why don't you just get in the car, too?"

"No, Alex. Thanks. I don't know why, but somehow I feel it's important that I stay out here. Someone needs to fight the monsters." She leaned in and whispered in his ear, "Take care of Candy," and winked at him.

"I heard that you insipid cow!"

She smiled wickedly at Randy and waved at Alex as the car pulled away from the curb.


Alex sighed in relief as he pulled up next to the apartment building. It had taken awhile to get the girls home. He’d had to stop twice and ask for directions. He turned to Randy and said, "Okay, here we go. I don’t see anything bumping in the night, but let’s not take any chances. On the count of three, I want you to run like hell into the building. Don’t worry; I’ll be right behind you."

Randy nodded. "Right."

"Okay. One, two, three, GO!"

They ran from the car towards the building. Three vamps jumped out of the bushes. "Keep going! Keep going!" Alex shouted. Randy kept going. They managed to push their way into the lobby, but the vamps were still on their heels.

"We’ve got to get to the apartment!"

They ran up the stairs, to the third floor, foregoing the elevator. Despite running in heels, Randy never once stumbled. Alex was amazed. And kinda turned on.

They reached the door and Alex fumbled with the keys, his adrenaline on overdrive.

"Hurry up, hurry up, hurry up! Alex!"

Alex got the door open, grabbed Randy’s arm, and yelled, "Get in here, Randy!" They fell to the floor just as the three vamps hit the invisible barrier. Unfortunately, Alex’s foot was just outside the threshold. The vamps shot them a toothy grin and grabbed for Alex’s ankle.

Randy stood up crying, "No! Leave him alone!" He grasped Alex’s shoulders and tried to drag him into the room, but two, then three vamps had a hold of Alex. Randy never noticed when he shifted into gameface.

Randy growled and launched himself through the door at the vamps, snarling and punching and kicking, knocking two down. He turned to the other, snapping his neck before wrenching it viciously to the side, removing it completely and dusting him. As one of the others got back up he reached over and punched him solidly in the face repeatedly; punctuating the hits with words, "You. Don’t. Touch. Alex!" He pulled a spike out of his pocket and plunged it into the vamp’s chest. "Ever!" The last vampire, after seeing what he was up against, scrambled up and tried to run down the hall. "Where the bloody hell do you think you’re going?" Randy exclaimed. He tossed the stake with deadly accuracy; it lodged in the vamp’s back, dusting him as he attempted to run away.

Randy turned around to Alex and said, "That was fan-feckin-tastic! Absolutely smashing! That’s what it was! Hey, Alex. I’m a super hero, too!"

Alex was scooting backwards on the floor away from Randy, shaking his head and saying, "No, no, no, no, no…"

"What’s wrong, Alex?" he asked as he crossed the threshold and knelt down next to Alex.

"Y-you’re a vampire, Randy," he said shakily, his eyes beginning to tear up.

"I am? No, no I’m not."

"Your face. Your teeth, for god’s sake."

Randy brought his hand up to his face and felt the bumps, then ran his tongue over his fangs. Damn, he was a vamp. "But I don’t want to hurt you, Alex. Not you. Never you." His face eased back into its human appearance.

"You don’t? Why?" Alex swallowed nervously.

"You’re kind to me and I think, I-I think I care for you."

"How…um, I mean when, uh…why?"

"I don’t want to bite you. I know I can’t remember us, Alex. But, I want to. I really do." He looked down for a moment then said, "Hey! I know; I must be a-a good vampire. A vampire with a soul, a-a…"

"Champion of the fashion-impaired?" Alex smiled gently at him, taking away the sting of his barb.

"Yeah, well," he said as held out his hand and pulled, "just call me super-fruit."

"But seriously; a vamp with a soul? How lame is that?"

"Well, how else do you explain it? Why am I so different?"

Alex stepped forward and cupped Randy’s cheek in his hand. "You just are. And that’s enough for me."

"God. Alex, I..."

Alex leaned in and kissed him, tentatively at first, the merest touch of lip against lip, gradually bolder, opening his mouth slowly, gently prodding his tongue against Randy’s lower lip. Randy sighed gently, opening his mouth to his lover’s exploring tongue and meeting it with his own. The kiss became deeper, rougher, more frenzied. Moist mouths crushed together, smearing the shiny, red lipstick between them, tongues twisting, tasting, wrestling for dominance.

Alex turned them, lips still joined, and began to back them up toward the couch. His hands ran over Randy’s shoulders, down his back, cupped his ass. He sank down…onto the remote.

The T.V. blared on, startling them both. They laughed together, chagrined. Randy turned slightly and sat at Alex’s left while he fished the remote out from under his posterior and turned it off.

"A little comic relief, huh?" Alex asked with a wry grin.

"Yeah, luv," he responded. "Are you…comfortable with this?" he asked, looking down at his hands in his lap.

"Well, I was obviously comfortable enough with the whole gayness thing and with you that we woke up with you on my lap and my hand up your dress. What does that tell you? So what if I can’t remember? I will eventually, and right now, I’m goin’ with the flow. I don’t think a straight fella goes around and gives just any transvestite his jacket, ya know."

Randy chuckled, "There is that."

"This just feels right, doesn’t it?

"Yeah," Randy nodded, seemingly relieved. "Say, do ya mind if I take this sodding wig off? Bloody thing itches."

"Yup, let’s see what’s under there, huh?"

Randy pulled the wig off, sighed in relief, and tossed it aside. "So, what’s the verdict?" he asked as he rubbed his hands through his hair, messing it up so it stuck up everywhere.

"Platinum blond." He smiled and added, "Kinda messy and spikey. It suits you."

"Yeah?" he replied, pleased. He unwound the scarf from his neck and tossed it on top of the wig.

"Yeah," Alex confirmed, reaching over to run the fingers of his left hand through the spikey hair.

Randy leaned into his touch, closing his eyes in pleasure.

"I know it’s not a guy-ish thing to say, but, man you’re pretty. Just…pretty."


Alex nodded, swallowing hard, continuing to stroke the blond locks.

"What do I look like, Alex?" he all but purred, his voice husky and low.

"You have incredible blue eyes. They’re the first thing I noticed about you."

"And?" he prompted.

"And you have a scar through your eyebrow, right here," Alex mentioned, his left hand came down to rest next to his thigh while his right hand came to caress the scar with his thumb.

Randy frowned, and Alex hastened to add, "But it just makes you seem, um, dashing and mysterious."

Randy seemed placated. "And?" he prompted again, arching the aforementioned eyebrow.

Alex took a deep, steadying breath and continued, "You have incredible cheekbones; high and chiseled." His thumb moved back and forth over Randy’s cheekbone. "A-and your mouth…" His eyes drifted down, his breath catching. "You have a beautiful mouth; a full, lush, lower lip." His hand moved down, cupping Randy’s cheek while the thumb ran over that full, lush lip.

Their eyes met. The desire between them was like a tangible thing; a warm, soft, passionate thing. Randy looked down at Alex’s stained lips; the lipstick having smeared all over his mouth and the surrounding skin. He growled softly and threw his leg over Alex’s lap, straddling him, and brought their lips together once again.

Part Three

Randy couldn’t believe it. On top of being a poofter, he was also a vampire, and still this man wanted him. And he wanted this man, so, so much. At the first touch of Alex’s lips, he could barely contain himself. God, but the man could kiss. He wanted to find out what else that limber tongue and those moist, firm lips could do.

Randy leaned in further, bringing their erections together. He tore his mouth away and cried, "Alex, god!" as Alex began to trail wet, open-mouthed kisses down his neck. Randy ground his pelvis into his partner’s in a firm, circular motion. He grabbed both sides of Alex’s shirt and pulled hard. Buttons flew everywhere as he smirked seductively at his lover. He leaned over, his back arching, desperate to keep contact, yet just as desperate to touch, to taste Alex’s nipples. Alex’s chest was lovely; just enough hair to be decidedly masculine, but not enough to be considered hirsute. He suckled Alex’s nipples and snaked his tongue through that lovely thatch of hair.

Alex moaned at the sensations, pausing only in his explorations of Randy’s neck to draw the neckline of the dress down and apart. Then, it was his turn to lean in, drawing Randy up onto his knees so he could lick and suck and nibble, curling his tongue around each nipple in turn. He paused, rubbing his left palm over the expanse of firm, muscled chest while gripping his partner’s bicep with his right. "You are so beautiful, so perfect," he stated wondrously.


Alex was stunned at how fast they were going. He only had memories of Randy for a few hours, but he felt so connected to him. He could feel his own heart pounding in his chest, his breath coming in pants. He wanted Randy. He wanted him now. Alex gave little warning: "Hold on," he said as he stood, holding onto Randy tightly. Randy locked his legs around Alex’s waist and hooked his ankles, his heels digging into the boy’s firm ass, his hands and arms wrapped around his head and neck, holding those wonderful, warm lips to his skin.

Accidentally going into the bathroom, then the walk-in closet, Alex asked in frustration, "Where is the damned bedroom?" Third room proved to be the charm. It was obviously a man’s room; king-sized bed with dark sheets, maple furniture and thick drapes, but he paid no real attention to those things. Alex placed his lover on the bed, stepped to the side and flicked on the bedside lamp. "I want to see you, is that okay?" The blond nodded. He looked down at Randy hungrily and ripped his shirt off the rest of the way, tossing it aside. He couldn’t wait to see him, all of him. Taste him. Take him.

He threw himself down onto the bed, supporting himself on his elbows and looked Randy in the eye. His eyes were wide; pupils so dilated the iris was almost invisible; the barest hint of sky blue. Alex reached down and pulled apart the dress, then pulled back so he could see his lover’s body.

Alex gasped. Randy had carried the whole cross-dressing thing from the skin – out. No bra, ‘cause, duh, no boobs. But there was a garter belt holding up the black, lace-topped thigh-high stockings. With matching panties. Black satin with a red rose at the top. It matched the garter belt, actually. But that wasn’t what made Alex gasp.

He gasped because of the picture those panties helped to paint. The scrap of satin and lace was so small that it hardly concealed much. Randy’s soft, almost hairless balls were bulging out at the bottom, his long, thick penis poked out just above the red satin rose, the reddish-purple tip completely emerged from his foreskin and pointed upwards, nearly flat against his muscular abdomen.

Randy could feel Alex’s hot breath along his cock, teasing him. "Don’t just look at it," he demanded, "do something!"

Luckily, the panties were put on last, so Alex was able to grasp them and pull them down unimpeded by the garter belt. As he backed up, pulling them down slowly, he realized something. It was a thong. A thong. The man had been walking around all day with his jewels not-so-neatly tucked inside of a thong. He balled the panties up and put them in his left pocket, leaving the garter belt, stockings and high-heels on.

He moved up and kissed Randy again, deeply, smearing the lipstick further. As he drew his mouth down, he licked his way over each of his nipples in turn, kissing them, staining them with the smeared lipstick, and then sucking it off. He felt Randy’s hands sweep over his back, shoulders, and upper arms, stopping to tangle in his hair when Alex’s teeth closed on his nipple and tugged.


Randy was panting needlessly. Alex’s teasing touches and acrobatic tongue were driving him wild. Alex’s mouth moved down to his navel, and his tongue stabbed and swirled. The dark-haired man’s chin bumped the spongy head of his erection, and the sensation caused his hands to fly from Alex’s hair and grasp the pillow under his head. And the noises Alex was making. God. Humming, ‘tasty’ noises, causing his lips to vibrate against Randy’s sensitive skin.

Alex moved, shifting farther down and staring hungrily at Randy’s twitching member.

"A-Alex are you…? Will you …? Oh, god. Alex, please!"

Alex’s tongue reached out tentatively at first, and then more boldly, his tongue stroking up and down the big vein.

Randy cried out, "Alex! Baby, yes!"

Emboldened, Alex took the tip of the erection into his mouth and sucked. Hard.

Randy cried out nonsensical, nonexistent words as he writhed on the bed, spreading his stocking-clad legs farther apart.

Alex took advantage and settled in-between his lover’s thighs, and then gamely began to suck him in earnest as he thrust rhythmically against the bedspread to get a little friction. He experimented with his tongue, lips, and fingers, finding the things that best drove his lover wild.

Randy was desperate to make it last as long as possible, but couldn’t hold out any longer. He arched his back, flinging his head to the side, and came.

Alex gamely tried to swallow it all, but wasn’t quite able. He was surprised at the taste and temperature; kinda cool ‘n tangy. His tongue swept around the outside of his mouth, catching the errant drops. He looked up and saw those gorgeous blue eyes staring down at him.


Randy arched his eyebrow, smirked, and gave a ‘come hither’ crook with his finger. As Alex scrambled up the bed, he scootched up to lean against the headboard slightly and reclined next to his partner. Randy reached over and cupped his cheek, kissing him intently and sweeping his tongue around his lover’s mouth and chin to get every last drop.

He looked down at Alex’s impressive cock. Very, very impressive cock. Spectacular, if truth be told. Long, thick, and nestled in dark, almost ebony hair that glinted and shone in the light. He got a wicked smile on his face. After all, turnabout was fair play.

Randy sat up and rolled onto his knees, and moved forward. He leaned over and took Alex’s meat into his mouth.

Alex barked out, "Randy, baby!" He ran his hands over Randy’s ass and thighs, stroking and squeezing. Randy’s eyes rolled back in pleasure, and he took his lover’s dick deeper into his throat.


God, that ass. Firm, pale globes just meant for his hands to squeeze, and caress and pinch. That cool wet mouth. That lithe tongue. As the pale blond head bobbed up and down on his cock, he grabbed the ass and pulled it over, guiding one leg over his chest so Randy was straddling him, which placed that wonderful ass directly in front of his face.

He grasped both sides, squeezing them together and then pried them apart, licking and nibbling the beautifully rounded butt. With what little thought process was left, he wondered about another thing he could taste. Would it be, gulp, icky? It didn’t seem to be, or good golly Moses, have an odor. Just smelled like the rest of him. He pulled the cheeks apart and revealed the tiny, pale-pink pucker. He touched it tentatively with the tip of his tongue. Randy stopped sucking and bobbing and gave a startled squeak. Alex could feel the rosette tense and flex. He smiled against that beautiful ass and began to flick and stroke the pucker with his tongue.


The first touch of Alex's tongue against his hole startled Randy. When the stroking and flicking continued, it was like tiny electrical shocks going straight to his dick. Alex squeezed his left butt cheek and Randy got down to business.

So did Alex.

Randy couldn’t believe the dual sensation. The thick cock deep in his throat, the writhing tongue on his anus. That’s when it happened. That tongue, that wonderful long, thick tongue stabbed in, plunging into his ass. He pulled up again, breathing hard, trying desperately to stave off his orgasm.


Thank god Randy had pulled off when he tongued him deep. He wanted this to last as long as possible, and the cool tightness of Randy's mouth had him ready to pop. Truth be told, he was kinda impressed with himself. Seems like he could really ‘delay his gratification’. Cool beans, baby. He wanted to make this wonderful creature come as many times as possible. Judging by how fast Randy got hard the second time, he had like, zero recovery time. A couple more thrusts of his tongue and deep breaths, and he had control again. Randy recovered as well and bent over to continue his task.

Unfortunately, Alex’s jaw was starting to get tired. He reached underneath and began to fondle Randy's soft, velvety balls. He felt Randy swallow against the head of his cock and knew that he couldn’t hold it off for very much longer. He was sweating and tense from the exertion and the sensations. He moved his hand from the sack to the dripping shaft and began to stroke firmly, feeling the movement of the foreskin along it. His lover’s legs began to shake, and he stabbed his tongue in as hard and as deep as he could. Randy shouted against the cock in his mouth as he came, the vibrations causing Alex to follow him into orgasm.

Randy threw himself onto his back. "Bloody hell," he said, panting. "Where’d you learn to do that?"

Alex raised his eyebrows and blinked at him.

"Oh. Right. That was absolutely smashing, pet."

Alex gave him an ‘I’m a naughty boy’ smile, and began to stroke Randy’s thigh, rubbing the come into his skin. His face flushed.


Randy looked into Alex’s eyes; hot and deep and wanting. He felt his cock twitch in response. Just his lover’s gaze could do that to him. That boy’s tongue should be declared a national treasure. Or his prick. That prick was quite a prize, too. His eyes flicked to the object of his body-part affection. If his tongue felt that bloody sensational in his ass, what would that dick feel like? He couldn’t wait to find out. He swiveled and moved up next to Alex, and faced him. "Fancy meeting you here, pet." He reached up and stroked his fingers through the sweaty brown locks. "So, how’s about a fuck, luv?"

The heat in Alex’s eyes flashed. He supposed that was a ‘yes’.

He continued to talk dirty to his lover. "Oh, yeah. You want that don’t you? Shove that great, huge prick into my tight ass? Over and over, riding me hard?" His hand began to jack Alex gently, then more firmly. Alex’s dilated eyes flicked from his eyes to his lips, watching them form the naughty words.

"Oh, hell, yeah." Alex reached into the bedside table and began to root through it. Nothing but a Vogue, a Cosmo, and a pink, frilly sleep mask. Frilly sleep mask? Cosmo? Boy, Randy was really embracing his feminine side. But, damn, the man was hot. "Check the other one."

Randy rolled over and opened the top drawer of the opposite bedside table. "Bingo, luv!" The drawer was full of lubes, lotions, oils, condoms. He dug through the drawer and discovered even more. Fur-lined cuffs, an obscenely large dildo, and…nipple clamps? Well, well, well. He really wished he could remember using those. "And what flavor would sir like his lube this fine evening?"

"Huh?" Alex was obviously distracted by Randy’s bare ass, framed as it was by the garter belt and stockings.

"It’s a bloody fruit market in here, luv. No pun intended." He curved his tongue out over his teeth and gazed saucily at Alex.

"Anything plain? The only thing I want to taste tonight is you."

Randy smiled and fished out a tube of Astroglide. "I think this will do nicely, pet." He cocked his head to one side and asked, "What about a condom, Alex?"

Alex frowned slightly and thought before answering, "I don’t think we need one, since you’re a vamp and male, and, well, we’ve done just about everything else tonight without protection. It’s up to you; whatever you want is absolutely okay with me."

"I think not. I want to feel you without a rubber on; feel every wonderful inch completely and utterly as you slide in deep."

"Jesus. Stop talking like that! You’ll make me pop before the main event."

"Stopping now, luv. Wouldn’t want anything to get in the way of you pounding into me as long as possible."

"You’re a very naughty man."

"Yes. I am. You should punish me by fucking me very hard for a very looooong time."

"Sounds like a plan."

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