Author's Note: I am in a fit of updating. I am uploading a lot of things that have sat on my computer for years - some since high school, which has been more than a decade ago. Some of the titles are a little random. (Though not this one. However, it won't make as much sense for another few chapters.)

Chapter 1 – The Day After Last Night

November 1st. The day after October 31st – also known as Halloween, or that one time when everyone changed into their costumes.

Ella stood in front of the library doors. This is where she was supposed to be. She knew this was where she was supposed to be.

She was nervous anyway.

"It's okay," Ella muttered. "They probably won't think you're crazy. Everything will be fine." She didn't believe her pep talk.

"Okay, new track. Breathe in..." She did. "Breathe out... Breathe in... This isn't... working..." Ella let out the breath in an explosive sigh and stared at the door a moment longer before she worked up the courage to actually open it. A tiny crack. As quietly as she could.

"I speak French now!" she heard a girl say as she peered into the library. "If this isn't going to be permanent, I'm hoping it lasts at least through midterms. What about you, Wills?"

"I just keep running into things," another girl answered.

Ella shifted slightly, going for a different angle – possibly one where she could actually see the people who were talking. Ah – a short bottle blonde, a timid looking redhead in a fuzzy sweater and… ugh. A boy.

Ella grimaced. Her luck with boys since last night had been... well, it didn't bear thinking about.

Still, he was part of the group. Which meant that interaction was inevitable. Well, inevitable if she wanted help.

Which she needed.

Ella stood, trying to come up with a plan, how best to approach the three.

She let go of the door.

The door creaked as she moved, opening wider. She could still see the three of them, barely, and was almost certain that they still couldn't see her. But the blonde casually turned toward the sound, and the boy snapped toward it as if he were a soldier in a combat zone – straight backed, alert, serious.

Interesting, Ella thought. She wondered if it were a hold-over from his own costume last night.

"What is it?" the redhead asked.

"Someone's there." The blonde glanced at the windows then back at the slightly-ajar door. "Someone who isn't afraid of a little sun."

Ella realized suddenly that she couldn't see the boy anymore. She'd been distracted by the two girls. She stepped back, panicking slightly. Where was he?

The door swung open, abruptly exposing Ella to the people in the room. The boy stepped around the now-open door to stand in front of her.

"Hello," he said. He smiled as he said it, but there was an edge to his voice. He was still in soldier-mode.

Ella blushed. The intensity of his stare, the sheer power hidden behind his carefree facade was threatening to push him from the "puppy-cute" category into the "kinda-hot." Which she so did not need right now.

"H-hello," Ella answered. She tried not to look directly at him without looking like she was trying not to look at him. It wasn't working very well.

"Can we help you?" he asked after a moment that felt impossibly long and awkward.

"Um... maaaybe?"

He raised an eyebrow as if he had expected a different answer, but moved out of the doorway and motioned for Ella to step inside.

"You dressed up as something military, didn't you? Last night, I mean."

Now he seemed even more surprised. "Yeah. A soldier. Kinda black-ops/special forces, actually."

"It shows."

"It does?" He seemed torn between preening and being concerned. "Wait, you're not suppressing!"

"She's not?" The redhead had gotten up from the table at some point and was sort of hovering nervously behind the boy. "Why not?"

"Uh... Should I be?"

"Everyone else does," the blonde said as she joined them.

Ella found herself suddenly irritated. "So if everyone else were jumping off a bridge, I should too? I have a brain of my own, thank you. You don't even know me and you just assume that I'm... I'm... sheep!" She crossed her arms and glared at the three of them.

"Did – your eyes just change color?" the boy asked hesitantly.

Ella was horrified. "Fudge! Are they still doing that? I thought they'd stopped! Mum's going to kill me if she sees me with weird-colored eyes. It was bad enough last time I came home with my hair dyed. At least it didn't change too much last night."

Then, much to her embarrassment, Ella found herself bursting into tears. In no more than an instant, there was an arm around her shoulders, warm, strong, ushering her into the library and toward a chair where she was offered a tissue.

It only took a few more moments for her to realize that this was probably entirely wrong. She stood, pushing away the comforting hands and took a few steps away from the group.

"Sorry. Just give me a minute." Ella focused – stopped crying, calmed her breathing, wiped her eyes.

Then she felt for the power that had been there since last night, the power that kept reaching out for the people around her, and did her best to shove it back inside of herself. She was rather new at this, so it wasn't entirely effective, but she figured that the effort would at least lessen the effect.

She turned back to the table and sat, noticing that a fourth person had joined them. He was older, an adult. "Sorry," she said. "Still having trouble controlling it. Ya'know, since I've only had since last night to practice."

"Controlling what?" the blonde asked.

"Perhaps introductions are in order first," the older gentleman said.

"Right. Sorry. My name's Ella. And last night my costume turned real."

"Buffy," said the blonde. "Willow. Xander." She pointed toward her friends as she named them.

"And I'm Rupert Giles. I'm the librarian. Not that any of the students at this school seem in danger of needing one." He sighed, clearly disappointed in the student body of Sunnydale High. "If you would begin at the beginning, we may be able to be of some assistance."

"You got your costume at Ethan's?" Buffy prompted.

"At... Ethan's?" Ella stared. "That was the common factor? I wondered why some people changed and others didn't. That explains quite a bit, actually." She frowned. "Do you think he knew the costumes were cursed?"

"I'm gonna go with yes," Xander said. "And it was really more of a spell. Which he cast."

"That – that utter bastard! He seemed so nice. I mean, a bit too charming, but I figured it was just because he was a salesman – you know, automatically a bit skeezy. But this? People got hurt!"

"I take it you knew Ethan?" Giles asked, cleaning his glasses for no discernible reason.

"You could say that," Ella said bitterly. "I worked for him."