Title: Get Drunk and Be Somebody
Author: JoeHundredaire
Rating: R/FR18.
Disclaimer: Right, I actually went and checked to be sure this time… after being passed around like a slut at a frat party over the past few years, Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Angel: the Series, and all associated characters now belong to Warner Brothers. With a myriad of writers, artists, and editors, actual rights are a nightmare when you go near a comic book universe. Suffice it to say that Marvel Entertainment LLC owns all of the property printed in their comics, along with the television and movie adaptations of said same property. Not mine, don't sue, and so forth and so on.
Summary: Xander's had to deal with a drunken witch before. The only thing worse? The Scarlet Witch's drunken son.
Joe's Note: I originally conceived this as part of brainstorming for International Day of Femslash but didn't have time to write it. It fuses bits of Toraneko's body swap variant on the classic Twisting the Hellmouth WIWU challenge with raxadian's bodily transformation variant. I tried working with both when I started in on this, but Toraneko never responded and by the second or third email in, it became clear that raxadian didn't actually read the plot pitch I sent him because he was arguing the inclusion of things that weren't actually in the story outline. So… yeah. Hope someone here actually enjoys this. PS: Regan is a refugee from another story of mine called New Day Dawning; I didn't really want to use Kennedy or Satsu, and most of the other Slayers are characters that would basically be OCs with familiar names by the time I got them to a usable point.

Regan Blake knew before she opened her eyes that the last thing she wanted to do was… well, open her eyes. Because despite the fact that she was on vacation in Las Vegas - and therefore supposed to be enjoying fun, sun, and possibly a guy or two because what happened in Vegas stayed in Vegas - she found herself waking to a familiar feeling of foreboding. An almost supernatural sense that something was wrong; the feeling that she'd woken to on the day she became a Slayer, and the day the school in Cleveland had come under major attack by the united forces of all the vampires and demons in Cleveland. A feeling that something major was either going down or about to go down.

And since Regan wasn't feeling particularly brave that morning, she opted to keep her eyes shut and ignore the faint throbbing in her head. Which shouldn't have been there, considering that not only was she too young to drink but Faith claimed that Slayer healing kept hangovers from being an issue when she went out partying. Then something else occurred to her: where was she? Because she'd never actually managed to check into her hotel the previous day. When they'd arrived, it had been 3:30 PM… which was not in fact close enough to 4:00 PM to satisfy the bottle blonde control freak behind the counter. Never shy about sharing her feelings, Regan had been prepared to argue the point but Xander had offered a decent counterpoint: pissing off the woman who controlled the rooming situation could land them next to the gym or an ice machine or something else undesirable. So instead, the pair had lugged their bags back out to their rental car, tossed them in the trunk, and wandered off to do some sightseeing.

Given that Regan regarded Xander as something of a mix between an overprotective big brother and a father figure - he was closer in age to the former but closer in life role to the latter - she'd admittedly had some reservations about being his traveling companion. Especially to Las Vegas of all places. And yet… they'd had fun. Or what she could remember had been fun. He'd tolerated her need to stop in a dozen or so stores to look around, and then she'd gone with him to the aquarium at Mandalay Bay so that they could walk through the famous tunnel and see if they could take pictures of each other getting photobombed by sharks. After that had come… Regan wasn't quite sure what. Well, they'd gone to dinner. Then a club. Then blur.

Rolling onto her back, Regan screwed up her courage and then forced her eyes open. She stared up at the ceiling for a moment before turning her head to the left and spotting the obligatory cheap digital alarm clock sitting on the nightstand. 9:30. In the morning, presumably, although there was a possibility that she'd stayed up late enough partying before crashing that it was currently 9:30 PM. Craning her neck, she peered down the length of the bed at the windows. Light peeking around the curtains. So 9:30 AM then. But before Regan's mind could get any further, it got stuck on a very serious problem.

Where were her breasts?

While she still wasn't exactly flat-chested, the twin sheet-covered mounds were definitely significantly smaller than they were supposed to be. Regan had heard of selling hair, blood, and possibly organs in Vegas to cover gambling debts and the like… could someone actually sell their tits? And if so, what the fuck had she done the night before that had left her needing to? Then there was a soft groan and Regan looked to her right. Oh. There her breasts were. On her body, right where she'd left them. She just wasn't in her body at the moment. That explained it.

Wait. Why wasn't she in her body?

And if she wasn't in her body, who was?

Before Regan could verbalize either of those excellent questions, much less get answers to them, her body's eyes snapped open and she looked over at herself. Or rather her body looked at her. Gah. The English language just was not set up to handle body swapping, Regan decided. Then her body launched itself up off the bed, revealing yet another girl who was still sleeping as it twisted in midair before landing on the floor between the far side of the bed and the wall. Bending down, not-her hefted Regan's prized replica macuahuitl and held it out threateningly as she straightened up. "Who are you? And what are you doing in my body?"

"I'm the owner of the body you're in, and I'm wondering why you're in it." Regan paused, thought for a second, and then amended that statement. "Or at least I was. Now I'm thinking about how gross I sound with a Manhattan accent. And wondering where my sword came from, because I didn't have it with me when I went out last night."

The mention of a sword had the girl possessing Regan's body looking down at it, only then seeming to realize the position she was currently in. "Woah! I was… and now I'm… are you a ninja or something?" Then she looked down a bit further, and her eyes widened. "You're a ninja with an amazing rack! Way to go, Cassie, you just hit the body swap jackpot!" Easy for her to say, Regan thought with a snort. While she'd yet to fully inspect her new form, what she'd seen of it so far didn't seem too terribly impressive. And Cassie seemed awfully glad to be rid of it, which did nothing to recommend it either. "You know, I'm really not doing bad with the obligatory Avenger shenanigans now that I think about it. My non-human crush was a robot who liked to pirate TSwift for me, my body swap is a hot ninja girl… which means I'll probably get a temporally-displaced alternate universe kid who's a real douchebag to make up for it. But still. This is-"

Groaning, the still unknown brunette on the bed grabbed one of the spare pillows and hurled it at Cassie. Letting out a squeak, the girl batted at it with the macuahuitl, thankfully managing to deflect it rather than shred it with the sharpened obsidian blades that studded the wooden shaft. "Nobody cares. God. What does a guy have to do to get a good day's sleep around here?" Guy? Regan and her body's thief stared at each other uncertainly for a moment, and then the brunette lifted her head from her pillow and stared over at Cassie. "…Regan? Why do you sound like Faith?"

Three pieces of information snapped together in Regan's head and her eyes went wide. 'Guy'. Knew her name. Knew who Faith was. While the first one was weird and the second just meant they'd drunk less than her - and evidently Cassie - the night before, the third was a good deal harder to explain… until they were all combined. "Xander? Is that you?"

"Regan?" The brunette - who may or may not have been Xander but probably was - turned and looked over at Regan. Or rather the body occupied by Regan's mind, rather than Regan's body. "Did you end up pissing off Willow last night?" Then her hand came up to her throat, her green eyes widening as her current predicament sunk in. "…did I piss off Willow last night? Wait. Why was Willow even here last night? Did we call her?"

Regan raised her hands in surrender at the barrage of questions. "Don't know, don't know, don't know, and don't know." Then her stomach growled loudly, making Regan look down and realize that Cassie had been entirely truthful when she'd stated that she'd hit the jackpot. If the blond pigtails weren't bad enough, the fact that her body was clearly underweight was. "What I do know is that I need to find some clothes and then an entire bag of cheeseburgers, in that order. Because I don't know when the last time Cassie fed her body was, but it wasn't recently enough. Or probably a large enough amount of food."

Growling, Cassie dropped Regan's macuahuitl onto the floor before bringing both hands up and flipping Regan off. "Fuck you. Ríddu þér. Va te faire foutre. Diu nei. Cào nĭ. Wǒ niǎo nǐ. Vaffanculo. If you give me another minute or two, I can probably remember a few more that I've learned from the workers at the take out places Blake makes me pick up dinner from. Or we could just stick with… fuck you?" Wandering over to the dresser, she opened the top drawer and pulled out a bundle of black and red fabric, turning and tossing it at Regan. "Let's see how much you criticize my eating habits now that you're the one who has to fit into these things."

Evidently she'd become far too reliant on the enhancements that came with being a Slayer, because the bundle hit Regan in the face before dropping down into her arms. As she untangled it, she raised an eyebrow. It wasn't quite spandex, but it was something close. Mostly black, with some red and accents of silver. Given that calling the team D-list would be generous, she didn't feel at all bad for taking almost a minute to realize what she was looking at. "I got body swapped with Ant-Girl?"

"My codename is Stature, thank you very much. I'll leave being Ant-Anything to Doctor Pym or… my… dad…" Trailing off, Cassie pulled out another catsuit, this one primarily red with bits of black. "I just realized, that body - or rather the powers it has - are my last link to my dad. Shit. Maybe this isn't so cool after all." After staring at the garment in her hands for a bit longer, Cassie turned to face them before stepping into the catsuit and pulling it up her legs. "I gave you that for a reason, Regan. You might want to put it on. It's not just a superhero costume, before you go all 'I'm not going to fight crime so pfft' on me. That catsuit is the only thing standing between you and nudity if my… your… powers act up. And I'm guessing they will, considering how long it took me to learn to control them."

So not only had she been stuffed into some superheroine's body against her will, Regan thought with a snort, the body was defective to boot. Well wasn't that just awesome? "Well, thank you very much for that explanation that wasn't."

Cassie rolled her eyes as she continued getting dressed. "Sorry. Not exactly something I'm used to having to talk to people about. Basically? Because Tony Stark decided I didn't need my father's gear, I had problems controlling my powers at first. Like when I had mood swings, I would shrink or grow depending on what I was feeling. I got it under control, but since you're not me… I'm pretty sure the problem is going to make a comeback. So putting you in the suit that can shrink and grow is probably a really good idea."

No, getting her body back so she didn't have to worry about being a walking mood ring was a really good idea. Wearing the stupid spandex outfit so she wouldn't accidentally expose herself if the worst happened was a crutch. But since Regan had no interest in being picked up by the LVPD for giant indecent exposure? She'd wear the damn thing. Preferably under some real clothes, which was presumably how Cassie went out in public most of the time. Nowhere near as confident with the thing as Cassie was, Regan moved to sit on the edge of the bed before starting to get dressed. "All right, so you're covered and I'll soon be covered… what about Xander?"

"Sorry, but she's out of luck. I've only got two of these - it's an A day and B day sort of thing - and Regan definitely needs to wear one. I'm calling dibs on the other because… well, mine?" Cassie slowly tugged the front zipper up to between her breasts before smoothing her hands down a catsuit that actually looked pretty damn good on Regan's runaway body. Which not only lent credence to Cassie's assertions that the catsuit could adjust to size-shifting shenanigans - Regan's body was easily four inches shorter, twenty pounds heavier, and three cup sizes bustier than the form the catsuit had been tailored to - but had the Slayer contemplating the prospect of proposing some sort of uniform system when they got back to Cleveland. Official slaying clothes would cut down on ruined real clothes, after all, to say nothing of the hotness factor. If they got back to Cleveland. What would happen to her if they couldn't fix this? "I can't offer you my regular clothes for the same reason I'm not putting them on, and I don't think you'd fit any of Kate's stuff either."

Xander waved Cassie off, using one arm to trap the sheet against her chest as she sat up on the bed. His and he? Again, Regan found herself running into a shortcoming of the English language. It wasn't any better equipped to handle mystical transgendering than it was body swapping. "It's okay. I think I've got this." Raising her free hand - as long as Xander had breasts, Regan decided, she was going to be using feminine terms - Xander released some sort of red energy blast downward into the sheet, causing it to ripple and conform to her body as it reshaped itself into a red and black corset with matching panties, red gloves and stockings, and a red headband with a silver plate attached to the front. "I evidently do have this. Have absolutely no idea how I did that, mind you, or why I picked that outfit. But I did. So, now I have two Very Important Questions that seem equally pressing. One: where is my body? Two: whose body is this?"

Those were both very good questions in Regan's opinion, but sadly she had answers to neither of them. As she finished dressing, though, she let her eyes roam over Xander's new outfit a few times before looking down at her own. Stature was Ant-Man's daughter and wore a costume that looked like his. Her teammates included an imperfect replica of Quicksilver, a female Hawkeye, and a young blond Hulk among others. And now Xander was subconsciously turning sheets into something out of the Scarlet Witch's closet. Coincidence? Regan thought not. "I don't know the answer to the first one, but I have a feeling Cassie might be able to answer the second." Having already finished dressing, Cassie had moved on to poking around at the stuff atop the dresser. At the sound of Regan's voice, though, she peered back over her shoulder and raised an eyebrow. "I don't really keep track of your team's roster because, well, I don't really care. Since you're a team of Mini-Mes… who's the Scarlet Witch's?"

"We don't have one. We have her sons Wiccan and Speed, but not an actual Scarlet…" Cassie petered out and sighed as Regan gestured insistently in Xander's direction. "Yes, I see her. It's kinda hard to miss her, between the body built for sex and the barely there outfit. I am telling you that if there is in fact a teenage version of the Scarlet Witch running around somewhere, she's not part of the Young Avengers. So there's a zero percent chance that we can check my teammates' rooms and find some girl's brain running around in Xander's original body. Or… maybe not zero percent chance, but a very low chance. I do happen to know what the body's name is, though." Spinning around, she hopped up to sit on the edge of the dresser before holding up a fistful of very official-looking documents. "Since Xander isn't a bad name for a boy but is a horrible name for a girl, I for one will be referring to you as… drumroll please… Missus Anya Blake-hyphen-Lang. Née Maximoff, if you're curious. So she probably is the Scarlet Witch's daughter, but I have no idea where she came from."

Xander-Anya blinked owlishly at Cassie for a few seconds before throwing her head back and laughing hysterically. Cassie started at the sound, looking over at Regan in confusion. The Slayer-cum-superhuman just shook her head in response; she knew enough to guess what was evoking that sort of reaction, but she sure as shit wasn't going to spill a story that wasn't hers. Finally, Xander-Anya calmed enough to take a few deep breaths and then flopped back onto the bed, staring up at the ceiling. "So, let's recap the previous episode for those just tuning in. I'm waking up in Vegas as a girl who's married to not one but two girls. One of them is a Slayer of mine who decided to pull a Katy Perry, and the other is a superheroine." Hey! Regan hadn't… actually, drinking her way into lesbian experimentation was as good an explanation for the situation as any, since she'd never once felt attracted to a girl while sober. Much less… well, this. "Oh, and the two of them have gotten themselves body swapped somehow. We don't know how, how I ended up a girl, and where my body is if it even still exists. My new name is Anya, and for some reason I have a hyphenated last name that doesn't even include the last name my new body came with. I don't remember taunting Murphy, and Willow's nowhere near this cruel… so who the fuck did I piss off last night?"