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by Chris Kenworthy (scoobyhq@fcmail.com)
Disclaimer: I didn't come up with the characters of Xander, Willow, or Buffy and didn't get permission from those who did, so this story may not be used for profit. It *is* my own work, so it can't get put anywhere without my say-so!
"Romeo and Juliet?" Willow hazarded.
"Uh..." Xander stalled. "Which version??"
"Huh?" Willow blinked at him in surprise. "Um, the old one we saw in English class."
"Not a chance," Xander declared.
"Okay, the Dicaprio-Danes one!" Willow tried, but Xander shook his head at that one too. "Okay, your turn."
"Umm..." Xander considered. "The lead couple from Disturbing behavior. Uh - Rachel and..."
"You have got to be kidding me," Willow declared, a severe look on her cute face.
Xander sighed. "We are not getting anywhere," he asserted for the twelfth time.
"Yeah, so? What can we do?" Willow complained. "We can't just show up without costumes. Or in non-matchers, after making such a big deal about this date."
"We can take a page from your book, Will," Xander started uncertainly.
Willow gave him the serious look again. "And what page would that be??" she demanded, silently daring him to have a sensible response.
"We settle it in one fell swoop. Come with me." Xander rose and grabbed Willow by the hand, leading the redhead out of her seat and towards the cafeteria exit.
"Where are we going?" Willow asked, knowing in her heart the answer - Xander was leading the way to the payphones. He slipped a quarter into the slot, (uncharacteristically having a quarter of his own to use, Willow noted,) pulled a small business-type card out of his other pocket, and tapped out the number.
"Hey, Danny?" Danny was one of the salesmen at Partytown. "No, we haven't decided yet man, actually, in a funny way that's why I called. Can you give us a recommendation? Something cool in a couples costume set, that Willow and I could actually pull off..."
"Classy!!" Willow shouted into the payphone.
"Hmm? Yeah, we'll take it - I'll pick them up right after school," Xander was saying, "Thanks so much, man - There's gonna be a big tip in this for you." He hung up the phone.
"Well?" Willow pressed him.
Xander put on his very worst British accent. (Or was that his best? Willow could hardly tell.) "It's going to be smashing, my dear!"
(Later, in Celia's new apartment.)
"Hi, Giles?" Celia said as the phone picked up.
"Yes??" Oh, right - he hated it when she did that... Celia could pick up the disapproval clearly even though Giles was far out of range of her true empathic powers.
"Um, I was just calling to catch up. We hardly had much of a chance to talk today... I understand you not wanting me to be around the library so much that anyone might get suspicious, but we're going to have to find some way to co-ordinate."
"Um, okay. Well, it's not that good a time. I need to be off soon to supervise the decorating of the Bronze or some such..."
Aha! "The masquerade dance? You're chaperoning?"
A sigh came over the line. "Yes."
"Oh, what costume did you pick?" Celia asked the question as casually as casual ever was.
"King Arthur, if you must know," Rupert told her, sighing. "The children like to see me in a quintessential British stereotype."
And there it was. "You will look very kingly, I'm sure."
"So, as I said, I really must be heading out right now..."
"Oh, of course. Have a nice dance, Rupert." I'll make sure of that, Celia thought as she hung up the phone. Quickly she consulted a phone directory, and placed another call. "Hello? Yes, I know this is awfully short notice, but do you have any 'Queen Guinevere's left in a medium?"
(In Buffy's room,)
Buffy Summers took a good look at herself in the mirror. "Yeah, not bad, not bad at all," she muttered to herself. She looked both quite good and reasonably close to Sarah Connor of the Terminator movies. Her hair was drawn back into a single ponytail, she wore a long-sleeved dark blue jean jacket over a black tank top and loose white drawstring pants.
Quickly she drew and aimed the gun from the holster at her side - a very heavy and realistic imitation of a very nasty-looking automatic pistol. It would also sound very much like a real gun if shot properly, as well, without firing any projectile. A good addition to the costume, and possibly a valuable diversion if the Brotherhood of the Bat did indeed show up.
This should be fun, Buffy thought to herself. So often, her duties as Vampire Slayer had led her away from the dances and parties... it was a welcome change to be getting sent to a party to get the bad guys. If only Angel could have joined her on this stakeout...
Angel. The happiness on Buffy's face was replaced by sudden anger. How could he just go and leave her like that? Even if she had just left him, in every respect but significant geographic distance. Who could share in everything she had shared with him? The hunting, the burden, the rigors of her job. Faith was a welcome help, but she didn't understand how hard things could be for Buffy sometimes. She lived completely in the world of Slaying, it seemed sometimes, and that made it so much easier. Buffy was the one caught between two worlds, the only one it seemed, now that Angel was gone.
With a sudden gesture she aimed the pistol into the mirror, straight at the forehead of her own reflection. In seemingly a single fluid gesture, safety, cock, and fire. The sound of the gunshot echoed through her room, and then through the house.
"Take that, Angel!" Buffy snapped, and turned away from the mirror.
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