...Got Your Tongue?

By Pat Kelly

Copyright © 2003

pat2082@verizon.net

Rating: PG-13
Disclaimer: 'Tis Joss'. Also FOXs. Maybe UPN. Not mine. Don't sue.
Distribution: The Mystic Muse http://mysticmuse.net
Just ask.
Feedback: Yes.
Spoilers: Season 3.

"Explain how this is taking a break." Cordelia said to Amy, as they perused the magick shop.

Her friend sighed. "It's called browsing – I haven't touched my supplies for a month, or looked at my books. Said I was gonna lay off the heavy spells for a while, and I meant it." She then swiftly changed the subject. "So you're getting Giles to teach you like, techniques? How's that going?"

Still, she did have fun with that glamour a few weeks ago. Buffy and Cordelia were mad at Giles, so they'd enlisted her to make him think that the entire library was in shambles. Books everywhere, torn pages floating around, card catalog split all over the floor…the look on his face was priceless. Of course as soon as he saw it, the glamour dissipated, returning reality to its normal state, much to his relief. That's what he got for killing their planned dates with mandatory training sessions two weeks in a row.

That favor was the first magick the witch had used since her unfocused, attempt at transmogrifying as she burned at the stake a while back – the spell turned her own dad into a rat instead of herself. Which she fixed ASAP. But the dark vibes then, and even more recently with the small glamour, frightened her. She thought she would be fine, but was no less infected. Not just physically, but also mentally, so she'd decided to temporarily step away. Her reliance on magick had been growing greater and greater; a little time to actively recharge and flush out her system was necessary.

Though already working, she wanted to find a cleansing crystal that'd help the process even more. Amy didn't have to do anything; she just needed it close, needed something pure to assist her body in purging any negative energy. She'd just happened to run into a shopping Cordelia – who'd saved hers, Buffy's and Willow's lives by hosing down the fire they were meant to burn in – on the way here, and invited the girl along.

"Actually? Pretty damn good." The cheerleader spoke without hesitation, exuding confidence. "He's surprised I'm picking stuff up so fast. Guess you could call me a natural…superpowers? Pfft." She breathed with a dismissive wave of the hand, while glowingly praising herself. "Not that I'm bragging or anything."

"Cause you'd never." Amy smirked as they approached the counter.

On it was a glass case similar to those that held jewelry in department stores, except this held crystals. Of various sizes, shapes, and colors, with tags listing names and properties beside each one. As the shopkeeper was busy at the register, Amy perused while they waited, because the case's protection spell had to be removed by an employee if someone wished to inspect the merchandise.

Thankfully, she saw what she'd come for.

"Hell no…it's beneath me." Cordelia confirmed, unable to not grin. "And thanks for avoiding the disturbing, 'horror-fest' over there."

Amused, the witch chuckled. "You mean the shelves with the eyeballs and dismembered body parts?" Following her question, she thought she saw the brunette turn slightly green, so she took pity on her. "Welcome."

The owner was in her late twenties, and had long, chestnut-brown hair. When she saw the girls by the crystals, she walked over and flicked her hand at the case. "Eximo theca." Once the invisible barrier revealed itself, turning pink before vanishing, she swung open the glass door, smiling at her potential customers. "How can I help you?"

"Hi…I, um, need a Borcali Crystal." Amy said, pointing.

"Wow – a triple cleansing? Mind, body, spirit…" Sympathetic tone, "Must've gotten in a little over your head, huh?"

The young witch's voice was low. "Could say that."

The woman studied her carefully. "You need this." She brightened, then, spinning the case around to grab the correct item. "Yunno, I think it went on sale today. Half price. Lemme go ring it up."

Amy was dumbstruck – it wasn't cheap. "Uh…thanks. That'd be great."

Violet crystal in hand, the shopkeeper moved to the register. "Guaranteed to work wonders. Better than a hot bath. Which I'm a big fan of, also." Pause. "Just take it easy, okay?"

While the two, magickally-inclined females went to complete their transaction, Cordelia's curiosity made her reach for a very ordinary-looking, clear crystal, about the size of her palm. The tag read, "Unbinding Crystal (Therio)." Before she could concentrate on deciphering that information, the object glowed bright gold in her hand. What happened next nearly caused her to drop it – her senses were under assault.

Odors from herbs and powders and body parts, people's perfumes and colognes, floated up through her nostrils; she smelled them all at once. She could even tell who'd recently showered and who needed to, because she could smell the soap and the sweat. Her hearing suddenly improved, as well. Every conversation going on in the store, which moments before sounded muffled, was now easily heard.

Directing her attention to a certain person or persons, their words became plain as day:

"Have you *seen* our credit card bill? Debt is the last thing we need right now."

"And *I* don't need to hear this right now. It can wait till we get home."

"That's the problem. You always put things off…"

"I locked the front door, didn't I? Can't be too careful. Buncha crazies in this town."

"Where's the broomsticks?"

"You're so close-minded."

And the minute her eyes zeroed in on the thin, stray thread on the shoulder of a guy's jacket, she wanted to scream.

"Cordelia?" Amy rushed to her, having glanced at the cheerleader from the register. "Are you all right? Your eyes were just…"

"What? They were just what?" Cordelia demanded to know, restraining herself from going postal.

"Sorta cat-like." The witch answered nervously, and the brunette swallowed hard, bringing her hands to her face. "Is that a crystal?"

They were joined by the woman, who'd instructed her assistant to take over for a little while. "You didn't know."

The proprietor, whose name they discovered was Reneé, took them through a door in the back, which had stairs leading to the roof. Up there was a large, Oriental rug she gestured for them to sit down on. They did, and Cordelia noticed it was quieter here; she could calm herself. Sure, the pollution in the air was more noticeable now, as were the scents of mocha coffees wafting up from below, but it was less intense. However, when a crow cawed over on the next building, the noise echoed in her ears.

The cheerleader jumped, understandably on edge. "Anybody wanna give me a clue? Soon would be nice."

"I come up here to meditate and relax. Thought it might help." Reneé started off by saying, making the girl feel guilty. "You're a Shifter. That crystal – "

"'Shifter'?" Cordelia shook her head. "Look, I don't care…just undo it."

"I can't. If you weren't one, it wouldn't've done a thing." The woman explained, calmly. "And you'd've found out eventually…probably in the next few weeks, considering how quickly your senses heightened downstairs. It just sped things up."

"You…you should still have a sign warning people." The brunette said lamely, and Amy mouthed, "She did."

Reneé stared at her, serious. "Someone who has an adept, magick user for a friend oughta have enough common sense to know not to handle strange crystals."

Cordelia cleared her throat, shamed. "Sorry."

"Be careful, that's all. Next time you might grab the wrong one." A smile showed the teen that she wasn't upset. "Okay, well…hmm. Are you in a serious relationship? Or, do you think it's starting to become serious?"

"And that's your business how?" The cheerleader was wary, while admitting the truth to herself.

Considering her desire to be able to place herself in mortal danger for Buffy's sake (which her girlfriend knew nothing of), it was certainly possible.

"Because shifters can go their whole lives having no idea about…what they can do. What triggers it a lot, though, is when they get really protective of someone who matters a lot to them. And you said you were…" Amy cut in, but stopped herself when she remembered that this woman didn't know about Buffy. "Anyway, your animal side wants to – "

"Hold it!" Cordelia interrupted. "First it was 'shifter,' now it's 'animal side'? Pick a term and go with it."

"What she's saying is," Reneé came in again, "your relationship kicked this all into gear. It's gotten strong enough that you feel a need to literally keep your partner safe, which obviously appeals to the cat. That means whoever you're with is a Shifter too, and the same breed. Most likely a wild one, with strength and skills you don't have in human form." Grin. "Congrats…you have a mate."

"So basically, we're Were-Cats?" The brunette's eyes widened in shock. "We weren't bitten, were we? Cause, uh, I think I'd remember. Like, vividly."

"Someone who becomes a were-creature," The shopkeeper clearly didn't like the word, "through mixing blood or a bite is…unlucky. It's an unnatural, forced change, and human and animal are almost always split. One doesn't know what the other's doing – there's usually never any control." She paused, considering her words carefully. "You've had the potential to shift for years. I don't know why; no one does. Mystical, biological…could be both. Or not."

"Did I miss how that was supposed to help?" Cordelia wondered, sarcastically.

Reneé rolled her eyes. "I know you're scared, but in your case, it is a positive thing. Mentally you'll still be yourself, and in the driver's seat. The cat isn't separate; it's part of who you are. It *is* you. So word of advice? Don't fight this."

"Oh." Was all that the once, normal teenager could say.

"And do me a favor – try using 'Shifter' or 'Theriomorph' instead. 'Were' has a bad connotation." The pleasant woman informed her. "Too Hollywood."

Her expression revealing that she was zoning, the cheerleader nodded slowly. "Uh huh. No problem."

"You oughta talk to Buffy. I bet she doesn't know, and she's gonna want to." Her friend advised, sensing that her brain was on overload. "We'll um, buy both crystals. Thanks for everything." She said to Reneé, sincerely.

They all stood.

"I'll go put 'em in a bag. Take your time." Reneé offered, getting ahead of them and then looking back. "Good luck."

The stupefied girl didn't acknowledge the well-wisher; if it weren't for the way her arm was being yanked, she wouldn't have known to walk. "It's not like I've got issues with cats; generally, I like them. Which makes sense – I mean, who wouldn't want nine lives?" She paused to think. "So sure, maybe there were times I envied the lifestyle or whatever, and yeah, okay, I wore that 'cat' outfit for*one* Halloween, but it doesn't mean…you know. Right?"

Buffy closed her front door that night as the Jeep pulled away, loving the happy, lighthearted feeling. She and Cordelia were going to go on patrol, followed by a movie, and then they were coming back to an empty house, because her parent was leaving town on gallery business. Returning to the living room, she expected her girlfriend to be on the same high, to share her joy, but that's not what she saw.

On the couch, she saw a conflicted brunette; she was probably the only one who could read what was honestly taking place behind her eyes. Something was bugging, which the blonde wouldn't allow. Going to snuggle up against her, she silently requested thoughts to be spoken aloud. When Cordelia slowly exhaled, Buffy watched the "serious face" make an appearance. Whatever it was, it was important.

Who'd've thought Cordelia Chase would be, more or less, her romantic salvation? Right time, right place, right amount of vulnerability…whatever it was, they clicked.

"K, what's the deal? You were being extra chummy with Mom earlier, and now you're doing the heavy contemplation thing." Buffy commented, running her fingers in a circle along the top of her girlfriend's hand. "Is it me? Cause you gotta tell me when I mess up, you know this."

Up to this point, the normalcy of the evening had settled the dinner guest's nerves. She could almost forget what she'd learned today, and what she currently had to tell the petite blonde. Amy had explained it several times – she was pretty sure she got it, now. Most of the witch's understanding came from her crazy mother's books, and people online who claimed to be shifters.

In summary, genuine, physical shifting ability was rare, and claims were usually a hoax. Mental and spiritual shifting – through astral projection and dreams – was more common. But the cheerleader and the slayer were supposedly the real deal. Amy had barely been containing her excitement when they left the shop, as she wanted to see it happen; she wanted to see the change.

Not yet. It was something the couple had to experience themselves, first. But had she really become as attached to Buffy as Reneé led her to believe?

"It's…me." Cordelia then shook her head, changing her mind. "No, it's us. We're officially freaks." As usual, tact got thrown out of the window.

The slayer smirked. "And this is news?" She waited for a response, but none was forthcoming. "We're not. I mean, fine, I kill demons and you make 'human pyramids' for…well, I don't actually know what for, but still, definitely freakier people out there. Like the guys who created Cheez Whiz. We're the special kind – they're just weird."

"Yeah, well, we raise the bar for 'special freaks.' Publicly I'll be in denial, but it's the truth." The cheerleader grumbled, reaching for her bag that she'd placed on the coffee table prior to sitting. She retrieved the responsible crystal from inside, and showed it to the confused girl. "Get ready." She warned, preparing to tell the story. "And during, keep in mind that I'm *not* crazy."

Buffy's eyebrows raised at that remark, but she stayed quiet until the tale of Cordelia's day had completely finished. A very long breath was released. "Oh, how I love my life." She bit her lip, mulling over something for a few seconds. "We're…uh, mated? The cat us's?" Getting a nod, her lips formed a small smile. "Kinda neat." She took it as a sign that they were intended to work.

"Yeah, it kinda is." The brunette smiled, too – was a bright spot, at least. She didn't expect their close to five-month-old relationship to be this intense, which should've bothered her, but it didn't. Maybe she was attached. "But still freaky." She added, a tad more unconvincingly than a minute ago.

"How come I don't totally buy that?" The blonde suspiciously asked, watching a blush settle on Cordelia's cheeks. "You can't wait to try it, can you?"

"If I get to choose, you know, when it happens…" The cheerleader glared at Buffy, who was sporting a large grin. "*Yes*. I want to, all right? God." She got quieter, next, though. "I dunno, it's just…getting easier to handle, I think. We're talking a few hours here, and already I can deal with the seeing and hearing upgrades; they don't turn on if I don't want 'em to. Can't really explain why."

This animal really was a part of her, then. Of them.

"So you think," Buffy searched her memory for the name, "Reneé, was for real? It wasn't just an 'Evil, Money-Grubbing Witch' routine?" In answer, Cordelia closed her eyes, and as she opened them back up, there was no mistaking the hazel-colored eyes of a cat. Breath caught in throat. "Oh my God. Cor, that's…"

Before she could complete her sentence, the blonde's lips were on the brunette's. She knew she shouldn't be, but she was rather stimulated by her girlfriend's new look. And, if she thought about it, she'd conclude that that was ultimately a good thing. They were both mated were-cats, so repulsion wouldn't have been a welcome feeling. But clearly that wasn't the case – even though it all sounded bizarre in her head.

It took every ounce of Cordelia's self-control to halt one of their favorite pastimes, but they weren't done discussing this yet. Recovering, her thoughts drifted to Joyce's comments during dinner. "Your mom thinks *I'm* a good influence? In what universe?"

A girl was a relief for Joyce following the "vampire" bombshell. For her child as well – far less drama, far more comedy and non-dangerous kissing.

Buffy smiled coyly. "Your secret's safe with me."

"Oh yeah, " Her eyes human-like again, the cheerleader nonchalantly revealed Freaky Fact #2, "you've got a scent. Smelled it as soon as I came in."

"What do I – ?" The slayer began, curious but sort of not.

"Like you." Cordelia cut her off, shrugging, unable to go into detail. "And it's sorta strong, so could you kill the hormones?" She didn't notice Buffy flush as she kept talking. "Anyway, I'm trying to convince myself there're benefits to this. We can have four legs – ooh. So what?"

"Patrol. Once we figure stuff out, you could like, hold the vamps down while I stake them." The blonde suggested, helpfully. "Or you could do the staking, and I could do the holding. Cat strength and all. And the roaring. Don't forget the roaring." Cordelia smirked at that. "Maybe we need to talk to Giles."

"Before we go blab to the entire world – "

"Giles is the entire world?"

" – Can we at least shift together once?" The brunette asked, hopefully, looking at her with a, "Please Get It" expression. "I want it to be a private thing – just you and me. Plus, if I completely lose it, no one else is gonna wanna stick around and watch."

Buffy smiled reassuringly. "What're we waiting for?"

She was handed the crystal, which glowed, but not as brightly as it had for Cordelia. Having expecting to feel the rush of new sensations like her girlfriend had described, she disappointingly felt no different. They both frowned, let down by the lack of "happening."

"Is it broken?" The slayer shook the crystal several times.

The annoyed cheerleader was somewhat hurt. Reneé and Amy said that Buffy was one, too. They'd been sure of it. "We're going to Giles'. Now."

The movie date was cancelled right then and there.

"Are the 'Oh My's' and 'Dear Lord's' out of your system yet?" Cordelia questioned about twenty minutes later, inside the librarian's flat. "Cause this is serious."

"There-there's no need to be rude, Cordelia." Giles admonished, still flustered after witnessing the eye-shape trick.

"Who's rude? I'm being me." She countered.

Buffy was sitting on the sofa away from the volatile, tension zone, while her watcher sat at his desk examining the crystal, with the cheerleader standing over him. They wanted answers, but were getting the feeling he didn't have many to provide. Which only increased the brunette's agitation level, and made the blonde believe that her inability to share in her partner's experience, was somehow her fault.

"For centuries, the Council has subscribed to the theory that, uh, 'Were-ism,' is an infection. Though they've never been able to determine the exact cause, or how such a potent, mystical anomaly began to be transmitted through the bloodstream." He explained, and Cordelia extricated herself from his personal space. "Also, most of their research, I'm afraid, concerns 'wolf transformation' and little else.

"However, what *is* known, is that the wolves do not belong to any species one would normally find in nature, but are instead, a sort of…supernatural hybrid. Take Oz, for example – in his 'were' state, his appearance, size, and temperament, are unique to his wolf alone." He proved his point. "Oz becomes a primal, slightly off-putting beast, lacking the capacity for rational thought."

"Duh. Why do you *always* have to be longwinded and boring?" The brunette asked, shaking her head in disbelief. "You could've just said, 'Sorry, girls, I know squat, because I work for a bunch of stuffy, tea-loving morons who better hope they put a dust-buster on layaway, cause they're so old, they're gonna need it.' See? Saves time."

"On the contrary," Giles shot her a glare, "I have heard of the concept, and think it's quite fascinating. Being able to change at will, to retain hold of your humanity while gaining animal instinct and agility, is an attractive thought. Until now, I've always believed it impossible, concluding that those who called themselves 'shifters,'" He coughed, speaking into his hand, "were rather mad."

Cordelia gasped. "You want mad? You're so gonna see it!"

Buffy had planned to interject with, "'Mad' is British for 'whacko,' honey. Don't help him be right" (a pet name seemed appropriate at this juncture), but things started spinning.

When the vertigo ended, she was staring across a desert landscape at two figures: an African girl, who was hunched over in an attack position, and a wild cat, just under two feet tall, whose whiskers glistened in the sun. Its mouth was open-wide, revealing two, striking pairs of long, sharp teeth at the front. One at the roof, one at the bottom.

Its tawny fur, which turned white around the mouth – going down the neck, stomach, and the inside of its legs – was coated with black ovals of various sizes, some geometrical, some not. The backs of its ears were solid black, its nose a pinkish color. Nearly three-feet in length, the same length as the body, its thick tail was encircled by dark rings. And the girl didn't appear frightened of the feral, yellow eyes.

If she was, she hid it behind dreadlocks and white face-paint. What the hell?

Giles stood over his bed early the following morning, watching his charge toss restlessly under the sheets. Hoping for natural causes, overexertion or something just as easily explainable, he and Cordelia waited, while the blackout turned into a feverish, painful malady. Buffy's skin was pale, but burned nevertheless, as her body seemed to expel every last thing it kept inside. He'd never seen her so incapacitated.

When she slept, it wasn't peaceful, and when she woke, she was non-responsive. The only logical conclusion was that blame rested with the crystal, with the new discoveries the girls had made. He was at a loss as to how to be of use, so Cordelia wasted no time in calling the magick shop, to get the owner's help; she was on the phone right now.

Then, not for the first time, Buffy cried out.

All the perplexed blonde could do was watch, as they charged one another. Two, angry predators battled and clawed, for what seemed like forever. Blood-covered, they were in terrible pain, and yet still they fought. Pouncing, rolling, snarling. Viciously.

Occasionally, the spectator would be taken away from the scene, but nothing changed upon her return. No victor had been decided. At least in her eyes, it seemed pointless. Neither was going to surrender, so what was the use?

To the Englishman back in Sunnydale, it appeared that her partner's arrival at her bedside was instantaneous. It was rather remarkable. He stepped back to allow her room, knowing his offer to help would be politely declined.

"She's coming." Cordelia told him, before tuning him out completely.

He didn't bother with a response to the good news – wouldn't have been heard. Moving further and further towards the doorway, he was amazed by the cheerleader. Continually. There were times when, still, he questioned her sincerity where Buffy was concerned, and seeing as he'd developed a fatherly affection for the unorthodox slayer, that was understandable. Areas of her life to which he once remained indifferent were beginning to attract his attention. Cordelia was the largest among them to date.

His initial reaction was that they had moved much too fast, but he'd since rethought. The relationship seemed healthy, built on common ground. Both of their boyfriends had turned on them, breaking their hearts with violent results. He could recognize all that, empathize, but even months later he had trouble believing that Buffy chose Cordelia. And that Cordelia reciprocated. This would test the girl – how far was she willing to go?

The side of the cheerleader's personality he viewed most was the one responsible for a majority of his headaches; the one presumably incapable of the feeling currently on display. Around Buffy, especially now, she underwent a stunning, strictly emotional transformation he couldn't ignore. Where love and compassion outweighed the fear in her eyes. Everything she had, she gave to the ailing girl. When Buffy was going to get sick, she didn't shy away.

Hurriedly sitting her up, she talked to her calmly all the while, trying to ease her suffering the only way she had available. At their age he'd had no clue what loving someone meant – truly loving someone. These two did, whether they'd said it yet or not. It meant taking the high points with the low. Sacrificing and giving a part of yourself, to someone else. It meant that despite her girlfriend being seriously ill and not much fun to be near, she didn't want to be anywhere else.

Despite the relatively short period, he had to give her high marks.

Feeling like an intruder, he quietly left, shutting the door with a smile. Buffy would be all right. Cordelia would make sure of it somehow, keeping her alive through sheer force of will, if need be. With that thought came the, "What if?" he preferred not to consider. He'd gained an affection for the brunette as well, and the alternative could break her.

The other children were stopping by soon. He'd tell them it was the Flu. No sense in worrying them yet. It'd give the couple privacy.

This time, abruptly, it was done. Combatants approached each other – the cat licking red from its mouth, the girl bowing her head low and gripping her broken arm. Then sand blew up, whirling into the wind. A blinding flash…

For two days, the slayer was wracked with sickness and dreams. She laid in Giles' room with a fever so high it almost busted the thermometer, regaining consciousness sporadically. Just long enough to empty her stomach into a basin beside the bed. This morning, however, the fever broke, and she was fully alert. Except she head no energy to move, being weak, achy, and not enjoying the feeling in the back of her throat. She eyed a relieved Cordelia smiling at her; though pleased, she had no recollection of what had transpired.

"Giles, she's awake!" The cheerleader announced, beaming. She wiped the sweat from her forehead as she had for the last forty-eight hours, with a damp, cold rag, praising the invention of weekends. "I want you to know…you're the only person who I'd look *this* crappy for, for this long."

She had limited herself to brief showers, putting her beautifying process on hold. In the middle of the night, she guided Buffy through the sickness as best she could. She would help her lean over to reach the basin and rub her back, making sure hair was in the clear. She would risk losing dexterity in her fingers, allowing the unnaturally strong girl to crush them during the worst parts. When there was screaming, she would soothe it away. And though she'd seen things she wished she hadn't, she would do it again. She was definitely in deep.

"What's going on?" Buffy asked softly, resting her hand on her partner's forearm.

"Nothing – finally. You're just better. When Reneé said we had to wait it out, I wanted to strangle her, but lucky for her windpipe, it paid off." Cordelia said, recognizing the, "Million Questions" face. "Your mom called here about to spaz, but I covered. Angel's," She worked hard to not emote while saying his name, "been patrolling, and Xander and Willow just think you had a major case of the Flu."

The blonde nodded, accepting all but one thing. "What did I have?"

"A whole buncha inner turmoil." Reneé answered, following Giles into the room. "How're you feeling?"

"Like my body hates me. Passionately." Came the light quip, as the petite teenager sat up, being supported by her girlfriend. "Reneé, right?"

"Nice to meet you." The woman cordially said. "If I'd known you were a slayer, I would've told Cordelia to expect this. Sorry."

Buffy looked to anyone for explanations, and her watcher decided to offer them.

"Cordelia went to Miss Troyer when we couldn't agree how to best treat your illness." He and the cheerleader comically avoided looking at each other. "She reasoned that it was a result of your being both the Slayer, as well as a shifter." He paused to smile at her. "It's, ah…good to see you well."

She smiled back as Reneé picked up where he left off. "You already had a unique, mystical power. I don't need to tell you how ancient and territorial the 'Slayer' energy is; it'd been keeping the animal inside you…well, tamed." She told Buffy, simply. "But you touched the crystal, and suddenly your cat had an edge for the first time. A chance to fight back."

"That's what made me sick?" The slayer asked, not exactly comprehending.

"Yep." Cordelia's tone was sympathetic and laced with guilt. She gently brushed

Buffy's hair back. "While they were busy with their, 'Who Can Kick Whose Ass Worse' contest, your body kinda got dragged through hell – believe me, I was there."

Okay, her dreams made sense, but Buffy didn't feel at ease. "They're gonna play nice from now on, aren't they?"

"Since you appear to be on the mend, it's safe to assume they've chosen to coexist," Giles stated in his proper, English way, "but it'll require extra effort on your part to maintain their…inner-civility. More training, more emphasis on meditation…you have to want to master this, Buffy. I'll assist however I can, yet the responsibility ultimately rests on your shoulders."

"Does it ever rest anywhere else?" The blonde's sarcasm meant, that yes, she was back. She turned to Reneé. "How d'you know so much?"

"Because it also happened to me." Reneé revealed, shocking the others. "Not as violently, but it did. I'm a witch like your friend, Amy, born with whatever it is that makes magick…doable. So my animal had to adjust, too."

"Which animal?" Cordelia, Buffy, and Giles posed in near unison.

"Eat – the food feels rejected." The cheerleader encouraged the rapidly recovering slayer later that day. The bowl wasn't emptying any faster, though. "What's wrong with it? Cause if you don't appreciate the fact that I slaved…"

"Hey…I do." Buffy slurped a spoonful of warm soup to prove it, sitting at the table downstairs. "But I thought we forced Giles to leave so we could go 'feline' without distractions?" Frown. "C'mon, Cor."

"You hafta relax." Cordelia argued, sitting opposite her patient. "It might sound difficult, but it's not, really. Promise."

"No," The blonde disagreed, "I *hafta* shift. I hafta get used to it, because I still feel…not myself, and it isn't cause of 'hunger' issues."

"Fine," The brunette lost the staring match, "but the *second* we're done, you're eating the damn soup. I mean, I saw your stomach go on strike, and trust me – nothing got left in it."

"How gross was it?" Buffy cringed at the silence, which told her everything. That Cordelia was there during her most unappealing moments, made her feel even luckier. "Thank you."

Cordelia got out of the chair, walked around to her, and pulled her up into a hug. A fierce one that communicated just how glad she was that she could still do this. No words were spoken as Buffy returned the embrace; it was her turn to comfort, and arm-twisting wasn't necessary. In times like these, Angel was blanked from memory. She enjoyed having the task of bringing a smile to those lips, sometimes unsure who saved whose life in this relationship. There weren't roles, not to them. Once satisfied that neither was going to disappear, the contact ended with a soft kiss, and mutual smiling.

They would've been more than happy to remain like that, quiet and connected until Giles tossed them out, but they couldn't keep delaying this. What they'd built they were proud of; adding another dimension to it, was scary. How would it change things between them? How would the animal affect them once they set it free? They were mated, after all. What if one of them was in danger, would they know? Would the primal desire to charge into the fray totally hinder their ability to function on a higher level? And if it got worse than that…well, these were the thoughts racing in the back of their minds.

How cool it was going to be, hopefully, was foremost; all those questions, the unavoidable, nagging doubts they had about their coupling's longevity, hadn't been permitted to surface. "The Honeymoon Stage" was blissful ignorance.

"Me first." The cheerleader said firmly.

"But – " The slayer was silenced with a look, and she pouted, not missing the smirk. "You know, I could just kick you out of the bed and be all nun-like…"

Cordelia wasn't intimidated. "Please…you're like, constantly starved for sex. And I don't even know why you're pulling that card – we haven't done it yet! You just wish we had a bed you could kick me out of."

"*I'm* starved? How would you know?" Buffy crossed her arms over her chest expectantly, her jaw set.

"You beg me all the time! It's embarrassing." Grin.

"Whatever. Don't think I can't be surprising and wacky."

Yep, the brunette had missed this. "Oh, I know you think you can. And in your little fantasy, where, y'know, you're the center of everything? You probably are. Ego-trip much?"

Her frustrated girlfriend just gestured for her to get the show on the road. There was no trick to it, no "abracadabra"-type wording. Actually, she had zero idea what to do. Reneé didn't tell her how to go about it, and it wasn't like she had an instruction manual. So she only closed her eyes, then pictured herself changing. First, she saw her ears becoming those of a cat. Moving higher on her head, they were shaped triangularly, but curved at the tips. And rather than pointing up, they pointed slightly to the side.

While she pictured, a speechless Buffy witnessed. As Cordelia thought, it happened. A lengthy tail protruded from behind her, her hands and feet formed broad paws, and instinctively, she lowered to ground level. Her clothes, touching her skin, faded away; they didn't tear or shred, just vanished. It was like the cat knew it was a counterpart to the human, not a replacement, so when she shape-shifted, anything that the human wore went with it. Smooth and painless.

The only things that didn't were her shoes – not having direct contact with her body, they fell off during the shift.

Her face sloped downward and out, nose and mouth now cat-looking, with whiskers growing from either cheek. She next lost height and weight, legs shortening. All of this occurred in a matter of seconds. The slayer barely blinked, and fur was already covering flesh. Cordelia's cat resembled hers, but had two, main differences: a silvery-gray coat (though it did have black, oval-shaped spots), and instead of yellow eyes, they were a sparkling hazel. She was still in there.

Upon completion, Cordelia sat there, paws in front of her, tail whishing back and forth on the floor, and head cocked, questioningly. {Well?}

Buffy knew she heard that, but there was no mouth movement. "You're in my head. Your voice."

{Seriously?} Was the intrigued response. {So I did it? Hey, how come I can understand you?}

"Must be because we're the same breed or something. Giles has to research; I wanna know what we are." The blonde was beginning to get excited. "This is gonna be…*so* awesome. You look…wow."

{Do I…?} Cordelia's query tapered off, when the front door to the house opened.

"Buff!" Xander called, seeing her as soon as he came in, Willow trailing. "Heard you were mobile again, so we – " His eyes traveled to Cordelia's new form, and jumping, he screamed. "Geahh! An evil cheetah! Buffy, get back! Quick, Will, call the zoo!"

"She's not a cheetah!" Buffy insisted for the umpteenth time, sitting on the floor beside Cordelia, who had laid down out of boredom. "Yeah, I'm telling them…I swear." Her friends stared at her like she'd gone insane. "She doesn't wanna be pet."

"Who? What? Huh?" The male teen fired off, dumbly. He'd come to reluctantly accept that his ex and his blond, best friend were an item, but this?

Buffy sighed. "Better show 'em, Cor." She grew quiet, listening to un-vocalized words. "No, I will…After…Of course you won't be naked…I'm almost positive. If I'm wrong, I'll buy you those pants you liked…" She grinned. "Not the knockoffs. Slayer's honor." A mock-salute was given.

Willow's eyes bugged as Cordelia appeared in the cat's place, in the same position. Xander froze, gaping, and the lack of resistance let the cheerleader smack him again and again when she rose. And rightfully, too.

"The zoo? Dork!" She snapped, her fuse blown. "No jokes, either! Got it? You *know* what I mean." Eyeing him and curtailing his dirty mind, she felt wobbly.

Upon seeing this, the slayer grabbed her by the waist. "Uh oh – somebody went bipedal too fast. Gotcha."

"So, uh, yeah, o-okay. First…hey." The redhead sputtered, groping for something productive to say. "Second, um…oh, if you don't wanna answer I won't push, like, at all, cause certain things are personal, and it's important that people respect personal stuff, people like me, but…how-how long have you, uh, been not a cheetah?"

"Technically? Two minutes." Cordelia supplied, and then glared at Xander again. "It woulda been longer if 'Idiot Boy' hadn't been…such a total idiot!" She growled, and whether that was just her or the animal, she didn't know. "Why hasn't somebody put *you* in a zoo? There's gotta be tons of room in the 'Brain-Dead' exhibit! Where they throw all Nature's rejects!"

"Never gonna forget that, is she?" Xander realized, speaking to his tough, super-powered protector.

Buffy shook her head, barely preventing the brunette from lashing out at him. "Don't count on it." She dwelled for a moment, coming to a decision. "Might as well get this over with."

Releasing her hold on Cordelia, she followed the earlier example and closed her eyes. Like her girlfriend had done, she transformed into her cat-self. It required no effort or adjustment on her part, to mirror the sandy-colored cat in her dreams. Except, as her mate had, she kept the hazel in her eyes. It could've been that yellow eyes were a common trait with the usual breed, but because two halves shared, there was a compromise. A window into the humanity.

Or something else entirely.

Xander raised his hand. "K, who votes, 'nightmare?'" He was convinced of that now. "I ate some bad, leftover meatloaf, and I'm stuck in the 'Land of the Cat People.' It's like a homage to 'Thundercats' – only less animated. Yeah…I'm goin' with that."

The two shifters yelled simultaneously, but only one was heard in the traditional sense:

{Shut up, Xander!}

"Shut up, Xander!"

{Sorry about the lack of private.} Buffy apologized to Cordelia, circling her legs and testing out the new tail. It curled around them as she passed.

"Isn't your fault." The cheerleader assured her, just pretending they were alone. "And watch that thing…I know! Told you it didn't feel weird." She laughed, listening. "You're definitely learning; I'm proud of you, Buffy." Her expression was one of puzzlement, then. "Who cares? He asked for it."

"Me? Ask? Never happen." He gulped, backpedaling, his back to the door. "Some guys are askers, and I can see the upside, don't get me wrong, but I'm really more of a stater. Always have been – there's a comfort zone, you know?"

"Is that really her?" Willow wondered, addressing the brunette.

"Uh, yeah, Willow…it is." Cordelia confirmed, not understanding why the shape-shifting was so difficult to believe. "But I don't wanna miss this, so shut up a sec."

If Xander didn't know better, he would've thought the Buffy-Cat was eyeing him in a very predatory, stalk-ish type manner, and the way she slowly approached didn't ease his fear. Not getting a chance to dissuade her (it wasn't like she could comprehend his non-shifter, human speech, anyhow), she snarled and revealed four, extremely pointy canines. The sight dropped him like a sack of potatoes, just as Giles came in.

{I like how that went.} Buffy happily said, sniffing her passed out "prey."

Willow sat at the table with the librarian, trying to identify the cat species Buffy and Cordelia belonged to. Giles had books spread out, she had her laptop. The watcher wouldn't admit to it, but he wanted to find the information faster, if only to prove that old-fashioned methods of research were still viable. Made her want to laugh, though turning her attention to the two cats (Cordelia had shifted, demonstrating) that were lounging on the floor in front of the sofa, she chose to respectfully refrain.

Having heard the full story, she stayed, whereas Xander went home to wig in peace. A valid reaction, but him she laughed at.

"Extraordinary." Giles spoke, garnering the focus in the room. Except for the felines obviously, whose direction he glanced in. "Buffy, would you please…carefully remove yourself from my couch? I just vacuumed, for god's sake. And I'd prefer it if the cushions weren't torn by your…scratching."

Oh shoot…when did she have to meet Oz? He wasn't going to like that his 'wolfness' was unnatural, which he'd know upon finding out about Buffy and Cordelia. Well, she'd be the girlfriend and cheer him up. Or at least try to.

"She can't understand you, Giles." The redhead told him, fighting a giggle.

{Nope, but she can read lips when she feels like it.} The slayer commented to no one, nice and comfy where she was.

Besides, batting her front paws on the couch's arm was amusing, and Cordelia got a kick out of watching her new limbs bend and move. Once and a while she would tickle her mate's nose with her tail, because then Buffy's eyes would close, she would sneeze, and her tail would be swatted away. It was cute. However, they needed open space to run around. Housecats they weren't.

And every human body in here radiated unease as well as tension – they could clearly see it, smell it, and hear it in the way the people were breathing. Inhaling a little longer than was the norm, and exhaling slowly. Controlled. Who consciously thought about their oxygen intake? They were goofing off, yes, but also observing nervous friends who worried over what their new situation meant for the future.

{What's he want?} Cordelia asked, feigning interest. {Besides you off the couch so he doesn't have an aneurysm.}

{I think he just had a "Eureka" moment. Without actually saying, "Eureka."} Buffy informed her, swinging her back legs off of the couch and unceremoniously sliding herself backwards to the floor, paws falling down fabric, just to see her watcher squirm. {Head over?}

{Guess so.} They walked side-by-side, and feeling a deep rumbling throughout her body, Cordelia touched her nose to the side of Buffy's face, affectionately. It was almost instinctual. {I think I just purred. And nuzzled. That's like "Frenching" for cats.}

{Well, you're a cat, I'm a cat…where's the bad?} If the slayer could've grinned, she would have. {But try not to purr so loud next time. There's normies around.}

{Ha! There! Sex-starved!} The dark-furred shifter mentally exclaimed.

Once at the table, they returned to their more common forms. Standing, Cordelia grabbed a seat quickly, her lesson learned from last time, and Buffy claimed a spot on her lap. "Am not."

Giles knew he was staring, so he had the decency to blush when three throats cleared. "Ah, sorry…this is all just incredibly – "

"Mind-blowing?" Buffy supplied for him.

Willow nodded. "Yeah, and…you make very pretty animals." She said sincerely, before quickly wanting to take it back. "N-not that you aren't pretty usually…which you are, cause I've noticed, in-in a strictly platonic…" She grabbed the babble by throat and squeezed. "…But, uh, it's just…animals are pretty in a way that's different."

"We get it." The slayer spoke, relaxing her friend.

"We've also done 'amazed' already. So let's skip ahead." As Cordelia voiced that request to the still thrown foreigner, it wasn't with her typical tone.

It was light, and accompanied by a smile.

"Gladly." He allowed his enthusiasm to reach peak levels. "Willow's correct – Clouded Leopards are…very pretty creatures, however, their appearance is only the beginning." The redhead closed her laptop, conceding defeat. "Like the snow leopard, Neofelis nebulosa is not a true leopard, yet it is considered to have characteristics similar to those in that subfamily. In fact, no other cats belong to its genus."

"Clouded Leopard." Buffy repeated the name. Sounded tough and mysterious; she approved. "Great. Now get to the good stuff. How's its roar? Scary, right? Cause we haven't yet."

"You haven't because you can't. It purrs, and can snarl quite menacingly, but it's prevented from roaring by the bone below – " Giles began, and was interrupted.

Depression. "No roar? None? At all?"

"What a rip-off." The cheerleader complained.

"At least your snarl's menacing." The redhead reminded them. "That's the best kind of snarl."

"S'not the same." The blonde moped with a sad shake of her head. "Keep going, Giles."

"Well, its name comes from the spots on its fur, which are thought to resemble clouds." He continued, skimming through a book. "Also called a 'modern-day saber-tooth' because of its four, lengthy canines…ah. Interestingly, it's a bit of recluse. Meaning that information on their behavior in the wild – various, wooded areas of Southeast Asia predominately – is rare. Hmm…seems to work in its favor, actually, as the species is endangered."

"Does that mean if somebody catches us, we're going into captivity?" Cordelia was horrified. "Boy, Xander is so frickin' lucky he never – "

With wide eyes, slayer instructed watcher to move on, before her girlfriend started flipping. He did as told. "Here's something you ought to appreciate. Being a skillful climber, the Clouded Leopard prefers to stalk its prey – which consist of a wide variety of mammals – from treetops. It can hang off branches with its hind legs, and exit down trunks head-first." His brow lifted, as he read the next part to himself. "'Has been seen at heights of over 6500 feet…'" Impressive factoid.

Buffy felt her happiness come back. "Then what're we still doing here? Let's go to Breakers Woods, and – "

"You've pushed yourself enough today; you need rest." He interjected. "I'll see you early tomorrow morning in the library. We'll need to discuss modifying your exercises, which you should start as soon as possible."

"It's three in the afternoon!" The slayer fussed, discontentedly.

Giles handed her a book. "Plenty of time to read up on your new species, then. And ring your mother; she was concerned."

"When you spend time with the younger generation, you're supposed to eventually lighten up." She told him, after briefly debating with herself about shifting, and threatening to bite. "I don't see progress."

Willow rose from her chair. "C'mon, Buffy. I'll call Oz, then we'll go get Xander and…ooh, shouldn't we pick up Amy? She'll wanna see. Then we can all read together. Plus, I bet it'll help Xander."

The girlfriends got up, too, and the brunette asked, "With what? Getting a life? Cause he's pretty much hopeless." He was the biggest mistake of her dating life.

Buffy turned out to not be. It was strange how fast they fell for one another; it began with her hospital stay after the impaling, and hadn't slowed down. This development kind of solidified their commitment, didn't it?

"Cordelia." The blonde and the redhead said, sternly.

On their way out, Willow had a question. "Can I, um, pet you guys? Just once?"

"No." The couple responded as if it were a reflex.

The End

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