Like Tiffany, Sarah didn't change immediately after donning Sarah-as-panties. They needed to absorb something from her which was not already an inherent characteristic, and to this point the underwear was basically Sarah, just a little sluttier and a little taller. No, the new Sarah wouldn't experience any changes until she did something out-of-character.
Which, as a result of crossed wishes, she was about to do.
"Sarah," a familiar voice rang in her head. It was her own voice, in fact. What was that doing there?
"Who are you?" Sarah asked her mind.
"I'm your bra."
"No. No, no, no." Sarah stopped in the middle of the hallway. "My bra is Jon. Jon does not speak with my voice. I did not wish him to."
Sarah had no way of knowing, but when she put on Sarah-as-panties, she triggered a different wish. She had wished that her panties match Jon perfectly, and so Jon changed to match Sarah, or at least the new one being created, perfectly. Had she been paying attention, she would have seen her bra shift from black to pink.
"Thank you for wishing up that experience in the closet," the voice in Sarah's head almost purred, "I love being played with."
"No you don't." Sarah's blood pressure rose. "You're Jon Gibson. You're a dweeb, you're a dork, and you did NOT just wriggle your way out of the torture I set up for you! I am in control here, I have universal power, and everyone else will bend to my will, do exactly as I say, and nothing more!"
"Sarah?"
This voice came from outside of her head. Sarah turned around to find a girl she didn't recognize. "Who are you?"
The girl wrinkled her nose. "It's me," she said, "Buffy. We just had a, uh, a thing in the supply closet. Are you alright?"
"Buffy..." the wheels clicked in Sarah's head. "Biff?!"
That was it. That fraction of a second, that exclamation. Along with the breath that carried the name of Sarah's former boyfriend there came a rage, an uncontrollable indignation, which the cool, conniving, collected Sarah had never exhibited before.
And in the very next moment, it was sucked away from her, and more. Suddenly, Sarah felt frightened. The anger and the rage that had been propping her up, protecting her from consciously considering her situation, was gone. And with it when her trademark confidence. The bitchiness, the superiority, the "me or them" mentality. All of this drained out of her as the panties she wore darkened from pink to ruby red. Her bra shortly followed suit. Sarah took a deep, shuddering breath, and with her next exhale came a flood of tears.
"Sarah?" the look of worry on Buffy's face intensified, "Do you need help?"
"I... I don't know." All of the things that made Sarah Sarah had just left her, and all that remained were Karyn Black's memories. Sarah fell to her knees and looked up at Buffy through her tears. "Can you walk me to the bathroom?"
Like a good friend, she did so, but she waited outside the door when Sarah asked to be alone.
