"A Puck in Me is a Friend Indeed" by Shadow Master aka Ryley Breen

(BtVS/Gargoyles/Maleficent/Harry Potter)

email:ryley[underscore]breen

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the copyrighted material contained herein. They are the rightful property of their creators and associated companies. I make no profit off this whatsoever and I have no intent to change this at any point in the future. I write because I enjoy doing so and because there are those who enjoy reading my works. Therefore I would appreciate it if the owners and associated companies refrained from taking any sort of legal action against me. I can assure each and every one of them that whatever amount of money they manage to get from me won't even be enough to cover a tenth of their legal costs.

Note: This will be a variation, an alternate timeline if you will, of the drabble I wrote entitled 'The Trickster in Me'. I had it while I was walking around the electronics section of my local WalMart and saw the above movies/cartoons/TV show. Needless to say by the time I got home my muse was already tossing plot ideas about, pairing possibilities and a few funny scenes for chuckles. I'm half sorry to say that I'm a slave to my Muse and that's why I have difficult focusing my efforts on a few fan fiction crossovers at a time. If I try to work on something my muse isn't currently interested in it's like pulling teeth to get each page written. Since I believe I do my best work when she's interested and the words just flow like a river from my mind to my fingers to the MSWord document I let her decide what to focus on.

Note 2: In terms of timeline this occurs late season two in the BtVS, to the end of season two of Gargoyles in terms of Puck's memories and the events in the Angeline Jolie movie 'Maleficent' movie would happen between 1330 and 1344. As for Harry Potter this would start at the beginning of the summer prior to 'Harry Potter and the Goblet of Fire'. This is going to a BtVS/Maleficent/Harry Potter merged universe where everything in these three properties happened in the same reality/universe.

Note 3: While I am willing to take plot ideas or funny scene ideas from you the readers whether or not I actually employ them in this fan fiction is entirely up to my own discretion. I will also consider pairing suggestions but you will have to give me more than 'I like this pairing' as a reason. Come up with a convincing argument as to why pairing Xan with this young woman would make the story interesting.

A Puck in Me is a Friend Indeed

Xander POV

Business District, Sunnydale

Sometimes I think the Hellmouth is determined to sour everything it can, he thought as he walked to the new costume shop where he'd meet up with the rest of the Scoobies. Here we have a perfectly quiet night where everything that goes bump in the night stays indoors and instead of being allowed to enjoy a night of movies and sweets we have to escort bratty kids around trick or treating.

While he'd like to think that the kids they'd be put in charge of would be reasonably behaved and do what they were told, he still remembered what it was like to be that age. At that age he'd been easily distracted, often following whatever caught his eye, often without any thought to the potential danger and just as often tried to push the limits of what he was permitted to do by adults in general. After all at that age everything you knew about the world was limited to your house, your yard, what you saw on television and the various places your parents took you. Since the majority of parents would never take their child anyplace dangerous, kids were ignorant of being seriously hurt or even killed by another person if they weren't careful. They thought that the worst thing that could happen to was a scolding or being grounded for a month. It never even entered their mind that if they weren't careful they could be permanently injured or killed.

Some children took this in stride.

Others took the belief that no adult would seriously punish them to do whatever they wanted.

As a result he fully expected that at least a handful of the children he'd be stuck with would mouth off and make a competition of seeing who could irritate him the most. While teenagers and adults could deal with irritation between one another without any real consequences, so long as they didn't take it too far, a teenager however could not vent irritation on a child any more than an adult could without legal consequences.

True legal consequences for such things in Sunnydale weren't as quick to be delivered or acted upon but he was fairly certain that while Tony Harris' actions could be ignored, his likely would not given the sort of luck he tended to experience. The best he could do would be to try and get into the spirit of things with a costume, try to have some fun by passing on his trick or treat wisdom and then regroup with the other Scoobies in order to salvage their original plans for the night.

Horror movies and bowls of candy to enjoy would have to wait until the kids went home and fell asleep.

Turning the corner it didn't take him long to spot the costume shop in question and, as he'd expected, standing in front of it was Buffy and Willow. From what he could see they certainly didn't look irritated so he took that to mean that they hadn't been waiting for long for him to arrive. He'd gotten held up a bit back at school speaking with the history teacher about a paper he'd handed in but fortunately, in the spirit of All Hallow's Eve, the man hadn't dragged it out too long.

It helped that Mister Thompson didn't care for Snyder any more than the students did so any opportunity to deny the principal the chance to deal out unfair punishment was to be taken.

"What took you so long?" Willow asked sounding only a little impatient to get things going.

"Mister Thompson wanted to make me sweat for as long as he could before letting me go," he replied, remembering that his teacher hadn't wanted word to get around that he was 'aiding the enemy' as Snyder would perceive it. "Plus without a car I had to hoof it the entire way here."

"Let's just go in and see if there's anything worth wearing," Buffy said with a huff of irritation before turning to head to the establishment's front door. "If we're lucky the costumes will be good enough that we can go to the Bronze without Cordelia verbally tearing us a new one."

Indeed that would truly be the lemon to top off the two hours of escorting a group of kids around: being read the fashion riot act within half a minute of entering the Bronze.

As a group of three they entered 'Ethan's Costume Shop' to see if they could find within the things they needed for a half decent costume. Once inside he looked about and he could tell that the place had a pretty decent collection of costumes and accessories, with each one being of good quality rather than the type you just knew weren't meant to last more than the night. Still, that didn't mean he could go for the costume he most wanted because, despite all his scrimping, saving and couch diving, not to mention bottle recycling, he only had thirty dollars to spend. At the moment his plan was just to buy some accessories and then head down to the army surplus store to get some old army fatigues to finish putting together a soldier costume. He might've lucked out and managed to find two ten dollar bills in the couch along with some change but it still wasn't enough to get a Spider-Man costume or a Superman costume.

The three of them split up since the costumes were divided both by age group as well as by gender all about the interior of the shop. Strolling along it didn't take him long to find a bin that looked like it was full of plastic weapons, like swords and guns. In fact he saw a gun sticking out of the top that looked just perfect for what he had in mind since it was life-size rather than some tiny, dinky thing that just had the shape of an assault rifle but nothing else. With a grin on his face he advanced but, just as he almost reached arm's length from the item, a small redheaded blur ran by the bin and took it away along with his costume idea.

"I found a gun mom! I found one!" the eight year old boy said as he reached his ladies suit wearing mother.

"You sure did, Matthew! Let's go pay the nice store owner," the mother said with a smile before walking with her son towards the cash register.

Well, there goes that plan. He could barely able to keep his disappointment from completely showing on his face. Question is: can I come up with a plan B?

Casting his gaze he searched for a costume he could be content wearing that also wasn't beyond his current budget to obtain. He even entertained the idea of just getting a handful of accessories and mixing them with his own clothes at home in order to pretend to be an unmorphed Power Ranger or some other fictional character that was often seen in street clothes. Still, he'd prefer to wear something a little more impressive or he just knew that he'd get hit with insults directed at his poor financial situation.

Strolling along his hopes descended gradually as every costume that caught his interest proved to be outside his budget, often by a considerable amount. However it was when he spotted an odd looking red short sleeved shirt with blocky golden trim that a particularly loud mental ding went off in his head. Walking over to it he unhooked it from the rack in order to get a better look at it and was surprised when he recognized what show the outfit belonged to and who wore it: Puck from the Disney cartoon 'Gargoyles'.

He couldn't help but smile at the memories of watching it with Willow and, while the trickster didn't have all that many appearances outside of his Owen Burnett disguise, he was still hilarious. With Brent Spiner, aka Lieutenant Commander Data, voicing him the laughs were many indeed so seeing the costume before him in just the right size was like a sign from the divine. It had everything from the golden bracelets to the brown boots and he even spotted a bag with fake pointed ears that were more like Vulcan ears than the size they were in the cartoon. Still, he supposed that was for the best because what worked in animation didn't necessarily look all that good in real life. For one thing the costumes of the various X-Men might look cool on the comic book page but they'd look completely ridiculous if someone tried to fight the good fight in real life.

Reaching for the price tag on the costume, it looked like it wasn't divine intervention but rather the Hellmouth dangling a juicy bit of bait in front of his face only to yank it away at the last moment. The cost of getting the costume for the night was five dollars over what he had and he couldn't see a white wig on the outside or inside the shirt. Assuming that it didn't have one adding it to the overall bill would likely put him another seven to eight bucks over the already expensive costume.

In other words it looked like he would have to search elsewhere for inspiration for his costume.

"Is there something I can help you with, young man?" came a British voice from behind him that had him jumping almost a full foot off the ground in surprise.

"Don't DO that! Especially not in this town!" he exclaimed as he turned to face the source of the British voice to find a dark haired man in his mid-forties looking back at him.

"Dreadfully sorry. I only moved to Sunnydale to open this shop a few weeks ago." the Brit said, sounding politely sorry.

"No… no, I'm sorry. It's just that we've got a… PCP gang problem and getting surprised from behind is usually a bad thing," he said, not wanting to make the guy think he was weird or that he knew some sort of secret.

"I understand. Now is there something I can help you with? You seem to have found a costume that catches your fancy."

"Yeah, but it's a little too expensive for me, especially when it needs a wig to be perfect."

"Ah! The trickster Puck," the Brit said with a pleased smile on his face. "'A Midsummer's Night Dream' is one of my favorite Shakespearean plays."

He didn't have the heart to tell the guy that his love of the character came from a cartoon rather than a classic play.

"If the price is a problem for you then I'll chop it in half and throw the wig in for free."

"Wha-what!?" he exclaimed in shock at the sudden bit of luck.

"Well, I'm new to town and if I want to get any customers I need something to put my place ahead of 'Party Town'," the Brit exclaimed with a pleasant smile on his face. "I may lose some money doing this but if I can reel in some of 'Party Town's' regulars, it'll be worth it."

Made sense.

Whenever moving into a place with established rivals it only made sense to come up with some sort of plan for swiping your own slice of the market away from the others. Either a gimmick or a temporary price drop would certainly do the trick.

"Then you have a white wig somewhere around here?" he asked, deciding that Hellmouth paranoia was not justified in this situation. "It'll need to be long and stop just above my waist."

"Hmmmm… not out here but I believe there's one in the back. Why don't you take that costume to the register and I'll head out back to get the wig."

"Sounds like a plan to me. I'll see ya there."

With that they went their separate ways but he did so with satisfaction in his heart since he would be able to see himself dressed as one of the most fun characters in recent times.

This night was going to be fun after all.

Spike's Warehouse Lair

Spike's POV

"Here it comes," he said as he watched the recording play on the TVs hanging from the ceiling. "Rewind that. Let's see that again."

Waiting for the minion with the remote to do what he said his mind analyzed what he'd seen so far from every angle as he gradually began to familiarize himself with his prey's fighting style. So far she was proving to be an atypical Slayer, not like the two he'd offed over the last century, but he actually liked this fact. It'd make the hunt more interesting, less predictable, thus making the victory all the more satisfying when he bled her dry.

"You see that?" he asked after seeing the staking of his cannon fodder. "The way she stakes him with that thing? That's what's called resourceful. Rewind it again."

Definitely flexible mentally, he thought as he evaluated the blonde girl. The first Slayer I fought was clueless when she couldn't find the wooden stake she'd brought to the fight. She wouldn't have thought about using something in the room with us as a substitute.

When he fought Summers next he would definitely need to case the area first and make sure anything that could be used as a weapon was removed. If he limited her to whatever she brought with her to the fight then it'd be that much easier to disarm her completely forcing things into a straight fistfight.

Perfect!

Walking around to another monitor he watched the staking once more and couldn't help but chuckle.

"She's tricky," he said with a grin as he came to a stop. "Baby likes to play."

He was about to ask for another rewind when he heard light footsteps to his right, causing him to turn his head in order to find out who was interrupting his strategy session. His mood softened a bit, as much as a Big Bad's ever did that is, when he saw that it was Dru with her usual 'not quite there' look.

"Miss Edith needs her tea." Dru said, swaying a bit to a tune only she could hear.

"C'mere, poodle," he said, holding out a hand to beckon her towards him.

"Do you love my insides? The parts you you can't see?" she asked as she took his hand.

"Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet," he replied as he pulled her close and held her in his arms. "That's why I've got to study this Slayer. Once I know her I can kill her. And once I kill her you can have your run of Sunnyhell. Get strong again."

Indeed he'd been in town long enough to know that, aside from the Slayer there was no one and nothing else that stood in his beloved's way. Oh, there were demons aplenty and probably a few mojo tossers but no one that'd have a problem with a vampire helping herself to the Happy Meals with legs. Even if they did have a problem, all it'd take was a messy object lesson to make them rethink getting in his way.

"Don't worry. Everything's switching," Dru said with a smile on her face. "Outside to inside… it makes her weak."

He tingled at the feel of her breath on his skin but what really had his attention was her prediction about the Slayer getting weak soon.

Never let it be said that he let opportunity pass him by when it presented itself.

"Really? Did my pet have a vision?" he asked, trying to coax the details out of her.

While he'd prefer to take a more forceful and direct approach, he knew he'd have more luck taking the gentler approach with his sire.

"Do you know what I miss? Leeches," she said, either not having heard his questions or choosing to ignore them.

"Come on, talk to Daddy," he said gently, using his hands to get her to look him in the eye. "This thing that makes the Slayer weak? When is it?"

"Tonight." Dru replied regaining her smile.

"Tonight's Halloween," he said, a little confused by this. "Nothing happens on Halloween."

"Someone's come to change it all. Someone new," Dru said as she began to sway in his arms like they were ballroom dancing, "The Slayer will dance round and round, the little tree will fly free of human limitations and the defender of man will…will…"

This was potentially problematic.

Drusilla's predictions were always a little broken up but they still flowed fairly smoothly when she chose to tell him what they were. It was when she had trouble getting it out, when she stalled, that it meant she either couldn't see past a certain point or what she saw was big enough to intimidate her. Considering the fact that she was more than a few sandwiches short of a picnic basket, it took something pretty impressive to intimidate her into speechlessness.

"What is it Dru? What's wrong?" he asked, growing worried as the seconds ticked by.

His words seemed to snap her out of it as her eyes snapped into focus then locked onto his with a look that made him take whatever was coming next seriously.

"The defender of man and the Puck will become as one!" Dru said with definite concern in her voice that was oddly lucid. "A spark… a spark could cast the darkness aside to replace it with a magical flame! Do not provoke Avalon's jester! To do so is to tempt the return of the raven's mistress!"

The Puck? Magical flame? Avalon's jester?

Some of what his love had said made sense since, when he was human, a classical education was a must and that included the revered works of William Shakespeare. So he knew who Puck was and the comment about Avalon's jester only made it that much more certain so if someone was going to get changed into Puck or someone like him, he'd need to keep his eyes open. Still, in almost all the stories Puck was portrayed as a trickster, with some of the early tales implying that he'd do you a favor if you did something for him first. If this was indeed the Puck he'd face tonight he'd laugh at the pranks, keep things civil and maybe help with the tricks if it led to the fairy bloke helping him kill the Slayer.

"Don't you worry your pretty little head, Dru," he said gently in an effort to calm her. "Me and Puck will be the best of friends tonight. No provoking at all. Promise!"

Seeing the sharpness leave her eyes and the concern faded away until she looked like she normally did at this time of day, they talked for a while longer but, once she left, he made a mental note to bring a few more of the boys along with him when he went out tonight. If things turned sour on him he'd use them as meat shields to take the hit for him while he made tracks for the nearest manhole cover to flee into the sewer system.

Unlike a lot of the wannabes he knew when to fight and when to flee to fight another day. That was why he was still standing when the others were dust in the wind.

He was a survivor. Period.

And so the night proceeded much as it had in many parallel realities but it would be the differences that would define how events would unfold for years to come.

One such difference was that instead of dressing up as a soldier, Alexander LaVelle Harris dressed as trickster known as Puck as portrayed in the Disney cartoon 'Gargoyles'. As a result of this the children who might have given him trouble instead looked with joy at the teenager dressed up as one of their beloved characters. They didn't cause him trouble and, since Xander was a bit of a trickster himself, he found it easy to emulate the funny personality that Brent Spiner used. As a result he made them laugh even as he passed on the tricks he'd learned over the years to maximize their candy take of the night.

It would be little differences both in Sunnydale and abroad that would set this reality apart from all the others.

'Showtime'.

Ethan Rayne had no clue as to how right he truly was.

Upon the final incantation of the spell Janus' power descended from its place on Roman Olympus down to the bust that was his representation. From there the energy stretched forth its tendrils seeking out all those that had been specially treated to receive so that the purpose of the spell could be fulfilled. One after another made contact with the unsuspecting victim, changing them from who they were to what they were pretending to be for the night. Cowboys, soldiers, princesses and superheroes went from being relatively inexpensive costumes to being as real as a bullet between the eyes or a punch in the face. For some the changes were merely cosmetic, such as a change of hair color or a shift in skin color, but for others the transformations were a great deal more dramatic.

Nails turned into talons.

Human tongues became forked tongues.

Wings tore through the backs of expensive red business suits even as a tail shredded a skirt and shoes suddenly became decidedly too small for the impressive three toed feet.

However for one it was exceedingly lucky that his mind was pushed to the metaphorical backseat so quickly because it was then that his body began to spin like a top, faster and faster, until blurring became the central theme. If Xander had remained in control for even five seconds nausea would've been a real issue.

Round and round you go, where it all ends no one knows.

Especially for those that had a touch of… destiny… floating about them.

Streets of Sunnydale

Child of Oberon Puck's POV

"Heeerrrreee's PUCK!" he said to kick off yet another of his small student's lessons in the use of his Sidhe powers.

Only when he finished his transformation from Owen Burnett to the form of his birth did he notice that he wasn't in young Alexander's room in Castle Wyvern but rather in the middle of a street lined with cars and houses. This was more than a little confusing since he didn't recall feeling someone summoning him and he definitely hadn't consciously teleported here.

For one thing the amount of demonic energy encompassing the town he now found himself in definitely would've gotten it crossed off his list of vacation spots.

"Ugh! What a dump!" he exclaimed with dissatisfaction as he rose up to hover comfortably a couple of feet off the ground, arms crossed over his chest. "The local tourist bureau has their work cut out for them getting anyone to come here voluntarily."

Looking about he noticed that the cars lining the sides of the road he was on had Californian license plates, bringing up one more mystery concerning his current predicament. While he was above average in terms of power where the Children of Oberon were concerned, teleporting clear to the other side of the country in one go without a magnifier was beyond his abilities. Even when he turned everyone in Manhattan into gargoyles he'd needed Titania's mirror plus the satellite dish atop the World Trade Center in order to succeed. He knew for a fact that nothing of the sort had been in young Alexander's room at the time he'd begun his transformation and, thanks to his memories as Owen Burnett, he knew the Xanatoses didn't have anything in the entire building either.

So how had he gotten here?

"Oh well! As long as I'm here I might as well see what people do for fun in a town like this," he said, deciding to leave his current dilemma to his subconscious to solve.

Flying into the air he ascended until he reached an altitude where he could see almost the entire town below him, making it that much easier to spot something interesting. The first thing he spotted was pretty hard to miss since it encompassed the entire town and was easily perceivable to his fae eyes. The demonic energy he'd felt upon arrival definitely covered the entire town but its uniform shape as well as the fact that it seemed to spring from a central point implied much about its nature. His first instinct had been to label the place a demon town with the combined energy of a sizeable population being responsible for the cloud that encompassed everything. However now that he had some altitude, he could see more than before and saw that the foul aura was being produced by a single point that spread out its energy over the entire town, then it was a bigger problem than he'd originally thought.

Something's a brewin'! he thought to himself as he wondered what he'd landed in this time. Time to ask the cook what's on the menu.

While it'd be nice if this problem stayed on the west coast, he knew that whenever power of this scale gathered it rarely stayed put in one geographical spot. It was far more likely that once California fell neighboring states would fall to the demonic energy before the phenomena or the one responsible for it would head east. Given his mandate from Lord Oberon to protect Alexander Xanatos, he had two good reasons to nip this thing in the bud before it got any bigger. There was also the fact that demonic energy as well as the various uses for it could pose a threat to Xanatos Enterprises interests in the state of California. Thus he began to fly towards the center of the whirlpool of demonic energy, feeling that it was a pretty safe bet that the person responsible would be there or at least close by.

However just as he got within sight of the source, a SCHOOL of all things, something slammed into him from the side, catching him completely by surprise. He tried to wiggle free but whoever had tackled him was pretty strong and had a solid grip that he couldn't shake with physical strength alone. So with a thought he teleported himself out of his assailant's grasp and half a dozen feet to the left, using his magic to bring his descent to a stop. Turning towards his assailant he was surprised to find himself looking at a female gargoyle that was VERY familiar to him even without the crude golden accessories decorating her forehead and upper left arm.

"Now is that any way to say hello?" he asked with mock hurt in his voice.

"Why have you brought me here, Puck!?" Demona growled, eyes glowing blood red. "What game are you playing at?!"

"For your information, 'Dominique', I had nothing to do with this," he replied, referring to the fact that she'd obviously transformed while still wearing her CEO business suit. "If I was playing a game I definitely wouldn't have invited you. I'd have picked someone with a half decent sense of humor… like Detective Maza."

He couldn't help but chuckle as the gargess' rage rose to the point where he could spot a vein pulsing on the side of her head in time with her heartbeat. Predictably Demona immediately and aggressively tried to use the air currents to try make another grab for him but his flight was generated by his magic rather than the air around him, thus making it almost pathetically easy to evade her attempts. Still, tag could be a fun game and for a moment he was tempted to put his plan to investigate the source of the demonic energy on hold to see just how long Goliath's former mate would persist in her efforts to capture him. However he knew that he'd probably get in trouble with Big Daddy Oberon the longer he remained away from Manhattan so it was in his best interests to end things quickly.

"Now as much fun as it'd be to play tag with you all night, I think we both have things we'd rather be doing right now." He used his magic to trap the female gargoyle within a bubble of energy. "I might not be the reason we're here but I know a good place to start looking. Want to take a look?"

He could see the anger boiling within her and, like the routine that her life had become, he feared that she'd let this fury cloud her mind, causing mistakes to be made. Indeed anyone who knew the full history of the gargoyle that came to be called Demona knew that she was her own worst enemy and the source of her own tragic past. If she hadn't collaborated with Wyvern's captain of the guard but rather exposed him, her clan brothers and sisters would still be alive. If she hadn't let her misplaced hatred of humans cause her to permanently scar Gillecomgain then the Hunter line might never have been born. If her mistrust of MacBeth hadn't caused her to abandon him on the eve of their battle against Cannmore and his English allies, her new clan might not have been slaughtered. Over and over again her anger, her refusal, to take responsibility for her actions damned her to a path that would only bring tragedy into her life.

Things took a turn for the better, though, when in what was probably a calculated move Demona forced herself to calm down causing the crimson light to fade from her eyes.

"I will follow for now, Puck," Demona said, preparing her wings to catch herself when his bubble disappeared. "Know this: if this is another of your tricks I will find a way to make it your last."

Yeah, yeah! he thought while keeping his eye roll internal rather than external.

Without a word he resumed his flight towards the school where his mystic senses told him the demonic energy was coming from. The closer he got the more effort he had to put into using his magic to create a buffer around his body to ward off the unpleasant sensations being caused by the hellish energy but he managed just the same. Touching down on the ground outside what looked like the main entrance, he saw the sign proclaiming it to be 'Sunnydale High School', confirming his earlier label. He glanced about the exterior looking for the usual symbols and writing but was disappointed to find nothing of note.

"Well, this is disappointing," he remarked as he levitated towards the doors. "Doesn't this guy know that demonic ceremonies need a certain ambiance? Where are the torches? The smoking braziers?! I should write an angry letter for this!"

"Spare me your nonsense," Demona said with a sound indicating she'd caped her winds about her shoulders. "Lead me to the human responsible for this mess so I can 'persuade' him to send me home."

Not a single funny bone in her ENTIRE body! This time letting his eyes roll externally since he wasn't facing the female gargoyle.

Pushing the door open he coasted through the air, taking in everything around him while at the same time tracing the demonic energy back to its ground zero. The more he saw, the more he began to wonder if the epicenter of the energy really was being utilized or if he'd guessed the cause of their relocation wrong. Still, it was better to be safe than sorry and, if he was wrong, then at least these confined hallways would give him a way to escape Demona and gain some lead time.

It was two minutes before he tracked the source of the emanations to the school library or, more precisely, to a spot beneath the library but, since there weren't any stairs leading down, it'd be close enough. It was when he pushed the double doors of the library to the side that he spied the first living soul he'd seen since setting foot on the premises.

"You wouldn't happen to have a copy of the Scrolls of Merlin here, would ya?" he asked casually as though he was here to borrow something rather than get answers.

He laughed as he watched the mid-forties man with glasses get startled enough to toss the cards that'd been in his hands into the air. However, when the man stepped back from the doors in fear, he knew Demona had entered the room and decided to get his answers before the man fainted out of fright.

"Now, now, I know I'm unnaturally handsome but that's no reason to be intimidated," he said in a disarming tone of voice with a bit of humor. "Allow me to introduce myself! My name is Puck, trickster and Child of Oberon, and this is my 'lovely' companion for the night Demona. And you would be?"

"R-Rupert Giles," 'Rupert' replied with a British accent that just screamed upper crust of society.

"Well, Ruppie, here's the situation: up until a little while ago me and Demona were minding our own businesses when out of nowhere we blinked and found ourselves here." He flew over to the man and putting a 'pal arm' around the Brit's shoulder, "Now, while I'm sure this is a swell town and all, the two of us have jobs back home that need doing. I don't suppose you'd know what brought us here, do you?"

"W-what makes you t-think I know anything?" Rupert asked, doing a good job of feigning ignorance of all things paranormal but Lexington would grow an afro before he failed to see through such things.

"Well, it could be the enchanted books you have on the shelves or the archaic weapons concealed but mostly it's the mark on your forearm," he replied, pointing at each piece of evidence in turn. "So… any ideas?"

"Well, um, it's difficult to say. Halloween is supposed to be relatively quiet concerning demonic and arcane matters," Rupert replied, finally giving up his charade.

"Halloween?" he asked rhetorically as he recalled some of the things he'd seen while he'd hovered over the town. "That would certain explain the abundance of pumpkins."

"Indeed. Did you notice anything amiss? Anything that seemed odd?" Rupert asked, sounding much more considering of the information he was being given.

"Nothing I didn't already know about you weak humans," Demona replied, making her loathing of humans clear. "I saw many of them running like fools from monsters and strange costumed beings."

"Same here," he said as he reviewed his own memories. "I almost thought that there was a cosplay convention but a lot of them could do the same stuff as in the TV shows."

"A lot of them? Not all of them?" Rupert asked, sounding as though he may have a lead for them.

"Nope. A couple of them were just normal people in costumes."

"Then that is our lead. If I am right then someone or something has transformed those clad in Halloween costumes INTO their costumes. Those dressed as knights become true knights," Rupert said latching onto his theory with strong certainty, "and those dressed as costumed heroes gain the attributes of that hero and perhaps their powers. If we can determine a common thread linking those transformed, we can find the source of the spell."

"I fail to see how putting an end to some sorcerer's spell will help return me to where I belong." Demona said, clearly growing impatient for results. "Unless you have something more promising I will resume searching for answers on my own."

"If my theory is correct your search will be in vain," Rupert said, remaining calm and rational. "The name 'Puck' is well known as a fictional character from a play. Associates of mine have looked into the matter and thoroughly concluded that no such being exists. Add to that the fact that your appearance does not match any known supernatural species that I am aware of and I can draw only one conclusion. This is not your native reality."

He suspected that old Ruppie was just humoring them by making it sound as though he thought they were merely displaced from their reality rather than figments of someone's imagination given substance. This was a wise course of action because, while he personally didn't care all that much, Demona would not react well to being told she was the product of some human's imagination.

"It is far more likely that due to a combination of costume components and accessories someone managed to dress as each of you, causing the spell to pull your mind from your native world and place it in the wearer's body. It is also likely that their bodies were reshaped to best match your native forms," Rupert said, continuing to outline his theory. "If we locate the source of the spell as well as the caster we can reverse the spell returning both of you to your native realities."

"Then let us find the filthy human responsible and end this foolishness." Demona said, clearly not wanting to remain longer than absolutely necessary.

With that she strode back out the library doors, leaving just him and Rupert.

"Don't take it personally," he said with a bit of exasperation. "She's not exactly a people person."

"Quite," Rupert said with undertones that clearly meant 'that is an understatement'.

Streets of Sunnydale

Rupert Giles' POV

This is proving to be anything but a quiet night, he thought even as he followed Puck as the enspelled person flitted through the air.

Never in his darkest nightmares did he perceive Halloween turning out to be so… chaotic, but at least the actual demons and vampires seemed to be adhering to the norm for this night. While he had seen plenty of fictional vampires and demons running about, it hadn't taken much more than a bolt of emerald energy from Puck to scare them off. Of course that happened when the Child of Oberon was too distracted trying to track down the source of the costume spell to bother with anything more elaborate.

The few times that they were accosted strongly enough to break through that distracted state though… he personally prayed that Puck and Xander never met or else he would never get any peace.

"Soooo… what's up with the stink hole under your library?" Puck asked casually as he flitted this way and that through the air like a dog trying to follow a scent. "Those fumes're dangerous, you know."

"The 'stink hole' you are referring to is a Hellmouth. A weak point between this dimension and a dimension that matches the description of Hell quite nicely," he replied even as he did his best to remain alert for danger. "It is not so weak that demons can come through but the energy… smell of Hell… pours out and attracts all who could benefit from it. We are fortunate that those creatures have chosen to remain in their lairs tonight or matters could be a great deal worse."

"They stay in? Must think All Hallow's Eve's gotten too commercial," Puck said offhand and looked to be about to say something more when a commotion to their right caught both their attentions.

Looking he could see a young woman in an extravagant ballroom dress and stylized dark brown hair run through an intersection as fast as she could, all the while screaming in fear at the top of her lungs. This was troubling enough but when he saw what was chasing her, the concern he felt tripled for it was a group of creatures led by one who matched the description of William the Bloody. He had never seen the infamous vampire but the leather coat and platinum blonde hair made his identification quite likely.

He was not foolish.

He knew that people had been hurt and perhaps had even died since the spell had been activated. He knew that the best way to minimize casualties would be to focus on finding the focal point of the spell and ending it… but could he ignore someone obviously in danger of being killed by Spike?

No.

No, he could not.

Reaching into his pockets, he took hold of the bottles of holy water that he always carried with him before running towards the group of fiends with a plan in mind. It wasn't much of a plan but there was a logic to it so he'd follow through with it and hope for the best. The moment he got the right distance he brought his arm like a professional pitcher before throwing half the small bottles he had with him in Spike's direction. As he'd hoped the murderous undead man simply mistook his rapid approach for another terrified civilian and did not react quickly to his approach. This allowed his throw to land precisely on target, smashing the glass on the side of Spike's head, causing the killer of two Slayers to cry out in pain as the liquid burned his skin. Some of the holy water splashed on a few other members of the mob but only half of them reacted to it, implying that either they were a breed of demon that was immune to it or they were transformed humans.

In any case it was time to rub some salt in the wounds.

"Why don't you try chasing someone stronger, you bloody poofter!" he yelled in the most disrespectful tone of voice he could manage. "Bet you can't catch me, ya minger!"

With that he turned around and began to run as though his life depended it… which it did, of course… hoping that he would be able to lose his pursuers in the maze of streets that was Sunnydale. With luck Spike was the only vampire or demon out and about so the young woman he'd saved would have a better chance of surviving the night. Once he'd successfully escaped he would resume searching for the origin of the spell with or without any aid from either Puck or Demona. The two transformed trick or treaters might even manage to find the focal point of the spell before he even finished losing Spike.

Until he determined otherwise he would focus on running and losing the monsters nipping at his heels.

"WWWOOOOOOO!" came an unearthly howl from above that stopped him in his tracks.

Looking up he could only watch as Demona, wings spread and eyes lit up bright red, swooped down from the air to tackle Spike and his entire group to the ground. Whether it was due to her sheer strength, momentum or the element of surprise he didn't know but it did save him from finding out the hard way just how long he could retain a sprinting pace.

Still, the question remained why had Demona come to his aid.

"Foolish human!" Demon growled as she stood ferociously before a recovering Spike. "I will not allow you to throw your life away until you've sent me home! We will deal with this trash and then we will end this spell! Understand!?"

"Quite," he replied immediately, more than a bit intimidated at the sight of her sharp teeth, claws and extended wings.

"What kind of demon are you?" Spike asked, sounding bewildered by the gargoyle likely because he'd never encountered one before.

No one had outside of the stone variety that decorated so many gothic buildings.

"The kind that will be your END!" Demona replied before lunging forward, hands shooting forward with fingers curled in order to tear apart undead flesh.

It was likely only decades of honed survival instinct that allowed Spike to dodge backwards to avoid a horizontal slash that would have torn his stomach open. Instead it merely tore a chunk out of the vampire's red shirt while also damaging the black leather trench coat that hung on his shoulders, exposing pale unharmed undead flesh.

"OI! NO ONE touches the COAT!" Spike exclaimed in rage as his demon came forth, causing his forehead to bulge, his eyes to turn a demonic yellow and his fangs to become more pronounced. "Time to show you why they call me William the Bloody!"

The vampire charged the female, leading to a battle that caused him to feel equal parts awe and fear. With every second that passed he was witness to the reason why Spike had been able to slay two Slayers and why only a fool would enter into battle with a gargoyle unprepared. A right hook from Spike, ducked under. A vicious vertical slash from the left hand, sidestepped. Next came an unexpected swing of a wing successfully impacting, cutting two parallel bloody lines across the cheek of Spike. A strong punch to the stomach thrown by William the Bloody caused Demona to bend over slightly before she delivered one of her own. Unlike Spike's gut punch, though, the one delivered by the gargess succeeded in taking the vampire clean off his feet as well as back a half dozen feet.

"Ge-get HER!" Spike coughed and yelled out between attempts to recover from the thunderous blow.

Not good! he thought as his mind began quickly seeking a way to end this fight. While some of Spike's horde might be genuine demons and vampires, the possibility is high that some of them are transformed trick or treaters! I can't let Demona kill them!

"Creatures and beasties oh so mean, charging forth to cause a scene!" came Puck's chanting voice from the sky above. "Thou art truly foul and quite unclean, thus I bind your bodies with chains UNSEEN!"

With the final word a flash of emerald light lit up the sky and then, one by one, the horde that had been advancing on Demona fell to the ground as though each had been thoroughly wrapped in chains. No matter how strong or how large the creatures were their efforts to free themselves were proving themselves to be pointless. The magic of Puck's spell wasn't something that could be overcome with physical strength alone. It would take magic or something known to negate fae magic to free them now and he prayed that neither was present at the moment.

"Puck!" Demona growled, clearly not happy at having her fight interrupted.

"As fun as it'd be to see the rest of your clothes get torn off fighting these creatures, I really MUST get back to Alex at the Eyrie building," Puck said, floating down until he was hovering a little above the ground. "The boy's an absolute mess without his hockey Puck around!"

This got a growl that reminded him a lot of a mountain lion's but instead of attempting to attack Puck she visibly reigned in her anger before caping her wings about her shoulders.

"Very well," Demona said reluctantly before locking eyes on an immobilized Spike. "But first…"

Walking over to the platinum blonde vampire, a malicious smile blossomed over the female gargoyle's face.

"Now IF I remember CORRECTLY… a vampire can be killed by piercing its heart with a sharp piece of wood OR decapitation." Demona said with malicious casualness. "Shall we see if that is true?"

"NNOOO-!" Spike cried out before Demona's three-toed foot stomped down on the master vampire's head, crushing it and spider-webbing the street beneath it.

Not the cleanest vampire kill he'd ever witnessed but he watched William the Bloody turn into a pile of ash, coat and all, putting end to the murderous unlife once and for all.

At least something positive has come of this night, he thought even as his unlikely group came together once more. Now to end it.

With that they continued in the direction they'd been going in before the helpless young woman had attracted his attention.

Outside Ethan's Costume Shop

Child of Oberon Puck's POV

"This is it," he said looking at the storefront he'd traced the spell to. "Not the most impressive of places is it?"

"I believe that that is the point, Puck," Rupert said, standing in front of a store that had 'Ethan's Costume Shop' hanging over the front entrance. "If the person I am thinking of is behind this entire fiasco, he would not want his location to be found out."

"Does this human have a name?" Demona asked, speaking the word 'human' like it left a bad taste in her mouth.

"Ethan Rayne. I knew him when I was younger and he always loved to sow chaos wherever he went." Rupert replied with a flicker of fury not much different from Demona's in his eyes. "Sow chaos and not care who got hurt in the process. After one particularly… harrowing event we parted company and never saw each other again. Until now."

"Tch! Nothing worse than a sloppy trickster!" he said with a scowl as he flew about the front of the store looking for anything to be concerned about. "I learned to clean up after myself two centuries after I started my illustrious career as a trickster."

"That's debatable!" Demona said as she too looked for signs of wards, traps and talismans.

"You're still not sore about turning to human during the day are you?" he asked, turning to look at the female gargoyle. "I thought you were warming up to being 'Dominique Destine'."

"You know full well what I wanted!" Demona growled, her eyes flashing crimson for a moment. "To remain flesh! To remain a gargoyle even under the light of the sun! Not become one of… THEM!"

"But that would've been so BORING!" he said, rolling his eyes as he casually flew circles around the angry redhead. "Turning you into a human was SO much more fun to watch!"

Seeing the female gargoyle tensing in preparation to attack, he figured he'd best lay off since they had more important things to do. He hadn't been lying when he'd said that Alex Xanatos was quite fond of him and would raise a serious commotion at his absence. While the kid might not be old enough, as far as his own body was concerned, to speak, they'd talked a lot the few times Lexington had agreed to loan his body out for lessons. It'd taken a cutting edge laptop and access to one of the electronics labs in the Eyrie Building to get the small gargoyle to agree but it'd all worked out in the end. The little man definitely considered him family and listened to his every word during their lessons together.

It also worried him that Oberon might tighten the restrictions on his power even further if he didn't return to his native reality as soon as possible.

It was hard enough already to find opportunities to slip out of his Owen Burnett personae and into something that was a lot more HIM.

Finishing his survey of the building's exterior, he could see a few protection spells present along with a ward that the wannabes referred to as an 'SEP' spell, Someone Else's Problem. As far as mortals went it wasn't too bad but for a Child of Oberon it was at the same equivalent level as an elementary school project.

"It's so pathetic it's not even worth a song, spells and wards please be gone."

With a flick of his fingers a bolt of energy carried the spell across the gap, impacting the targeted spells and ward shattering both after a few moment's resistance. There was some risk to combatting mortal sorcery with fae magic since it occasionally led to a rather explosive reaction but, given the amounts being used on both sides, he'd felt safe enough in casting a spell. Besides, it wasn't like Demona or Rupert were carrying the necessary ingredients to undo the obstructions themselves so that only left him.

Watching as pieces of blue and golden glass faded from sight, he knew that Ethan Rayne likely knew he was about to receive guests so there was no point to subtlety anymore.

In which case…

"Dear Demona, would you care to knock? It's only polite after all." he said with a bow and a gesture.

"Indeed," Demona said before walking up to the entrance to the store.

Much as he'd expected the female gargoyle kicked the door down with one blow, shattering the glass window and warping the metal frame before it hit the ground.

Glancing at Rupert, he could tell that the man would've preferred a quieter way of getting inside but what was done was done so they entered the costume shop to find the entire place dark, with only moonlight to let them see what was around them. He and Demona had less trouble than Mister Giles due to their nonhuman nature but their eyes couldn't quite pierce the darkness entirely. Fortunately there was a light coming from a curtained off back room that just screamed 'come take a look at what's inside'.

Far be it for him to pass up an invitation like that!

Flying over to the curtain he grabbed one side and pulled, saying, "Come out, come out wherever you-!"

He didn't get to say more because, faster than his eyes could follow, something hit him and wrapped itself around his body. As he felt the burning sensation when the object made contact with his skin and the weakening of his magic he knew what he'd been hit with.

Iron.

After he hit the ground and recovered enough he looked down to see a metal wire net wrapped around his torso, pinning his arms to his body quite snugly. It was worse than when Demona had summoned him! At least there'd been a bit of slack to the chains she'd used, allowing him to keep a piece of cloth between the metal and his skin.

No such luck here.

"Dreadfully sorry, Puck," came a British voice from the back room as a hand parted the curtain. "From one trickster to another I honestly admire your work but even you have to admit it would have been a tad lopsided if you were given free reign."

It was then that a man with dark hair and an age similar to Rupert emerged clad in a robe that was various shades of red entered the main area of the shop. Bandages were wrapped around his hands and what looked to be some sort of net launcher rested in a relaxed position in his right hand, clearly having fired its payload. The expression on the man's face was playful but wary as though he knew it'd be foolish to completely let his guard down.

Smart.

"Hello, Ethan," Rupert said with a chill colder than any blizzard Odin could muster even with home field advantage.

"Hello, Ripper." Ethan said with a cocky smile on his face and amusement in his eyes.

"Let me guess: glee club members?" he asked, not sounding serious in the least.

"Hardly," Ethan replied, never taking his eyes off Rupert. "Ripper and I used to run together with some friends, having a grand old time. Then, after one little screw up, my good friend bailed."

"It was hardly 'a little screw up', Ethan. Randall died." Rupert's eyes narrowed with elevated anger. "Still, I should've known this was all your doing. This Halloween stunt stinks of Ethan Rayne."

"Yes, it does, doesn't it?" Ethan asked rhetorically with a victorious smile on his face. "Don't wish to blow my own trumpet, but it's genius. The very embodiment of 'be careful what you wish for'."

"Enough of this!" Demona declared as she sprang across the gap between her and Ethan, grabbing the man by the front of the robe before lifting him off the ground. "End this spell, mage. NOW."

"What's in it for me?" Ethan asked, still possessing enough bravado to smile smugly.

"A swift death as opposed to a long, excruciating one." Demona replied with a tooth-filled smile that promised gleefully inflicted pain for the man she was directing it at.

He almost chuckled at the faltering confidence on the man's face but it wasn't completely gone since Ethan chose to cling to something in desperation.

"If you kill me you won't be able to shut down the spell," Ethan said, implying that only he held the necessary information.

"I am no stranger to magic, human," Demona said, never losing her smile for an instant, but rather adding glowing crimson eyes to the mix. "I have a millennia of experience studying every form of sorcery, both human and fae. I think I can determine the solution without you."

As if to emphasize how dangerous of a situation the man was in, the immortal gargoyle brought up her other hand, bringing its sharp talons closer and closer to Ethan's face. Closer and closer the deadly implements came until finally the mage's hollow confidence fell away to reveal true fear on his face.

"The bust! The clay bust of Janus!" Ethan exclaimed, fear clear in his voice. "Destroy it and the spell will end!"

"There… now was that so hard?" Demona asked with a look that actually looked somewhat soft for a moment.

It'd happened fast, too fast for anyone to stop, including him, but he had the same look on his face as Rupert Giles did: unrestrained shock.

With one swift thrust Demona had run Ethan Rayne through with her taloned hand and now the only thing keeping Rayne from dropping to the ground was the fact that he was impaled on her arm. Blood coated the part of her arm that currently stuck out of the man's back and, while it was tough to see, he was pretty sure the blood was flowing just as freely from the chest. Still, the mortally wounded man still had enough life in him to look down at it in shock before raising his gaze to meet Demona's, as if to ask 'why'.

Then he died.

"Why… why did you do that?" Rupert asked mysteriously, sounding a little sad at the death of his 'old friend'.

"He'd outlived his usefulness," Demona replied without a single sign of remorse. "This is punishment for presuming that he could use me for his own personal entertainment. It was quicker than he deserved."

She threw the lifeless body away, sending it across the room to impact a rack of clothes, causing both to crash to the ground in a mess. Striding towards the curtain she ripped one half of it off before beginning to wipe off the blood with strong long wipes, tossing it to the side a minute later. Rupert took off for the back room a moment later, though whether it was to help end the spell or verbally tear into Demona for her unnecessarily lethal action he didn't know. If it wasn't for the iron wire net wrapped around him he'd be heading for the back room as well but, since that wasn't the case, he could only sit up and even that was painful with the metal pressing against his skin.

Carefully he listened so that he would be able to hear everything that was said but all that reached his ears was the loud crash of shattering stone.

Then thinking became impossible as all his senses and his mind became overwhelmed by a force unlike anything he'd experienced in his life before a dark curtain fell over his consciousness.

It wasn't funny at all.

Inside Ethan's Costume Shop

Xander's POV

W-why does this stuff a-always happen to me? he thought as he pushed himself onto his elbows.

He winced slightly as pain akin to a serious case of rug burn danced up and down his arms but he'd dealt with worse over the course of his life so he soldiered on through it. Looking about, he could see bits of what might have been a wire net scattered about him but that didn't make much sense even when taking into account the weirdness that was the Hellmouth. With a few more wincing movements he managed to fully sit up and look about to find out where he was because, between when he'd blacked out and now, he only had bits and pieces of sensory input to fill in the blanks. Those bits and pieces though didn't make sense since they had him FLYING of all things and, unless he was mistaken, doing magic. Neither was something he was capable of, this he knew better than anyone, so he dismissed the fragments as nonsense.

"AAAHHHH!" came a cry that was all too familiar from the back room of what he'd come to recognize was the shop where he'd gotten his Puck costume.

"Willow!" he exclaimed before he forced himself to his unsteady feet and made his way for the back room as quickly as he could.

It wasn't a graceful dash by any measure but he made it there just the same, though nothing could have prepared him for what he found upon entering the back room. Kneeling on the floor was a teenage female gargoyle with many of the physical characteristics of Demona, but her face was decidedly different since it belonged to his oldest and most treasured friend. However it was the look of utter trauma on her face as she stared down at her lightly blood-coated gargoyle arm that took priority for him. He knew Willow, knew her mind almost as well as he knew his own, so he knew that her mental state was an absolute mess as she tried to comprehend what was going on. Without a moment's hesitation he went to her side and wrapped his arms around her in a comforting hug, resisting her reflexive efforts to shake him off.

"I'm here Willow!" he said like a brother would to comfort a sister. "I'm here!"

Over and over he said this in an effort to bring her out of her emotional maelstrom but it was a good two minutes before he sensed even a little of her distress fade away but it was enough to get her talking.

"Xan… Xander? What's happened to me?" Willow asked with her emotional state written in broad strokes across her face.

Thinking back, he tried to figure out how Willow had suddenly become a mini-Demona and, fortunately, his memory came up with the answer. In a move that'd surprised him greatly, Willow had come down the stairs at Buffy's house wearing a smart red business suit with her hair done in a tasteful ponytail in the back. When he'd asked her who she was pretending to be she'd replied that she was the C.E.O. of a major multi-national corporation. While he didn't know how that connected to Dominique Destine, C.E.O. of Nightstone Unlimited, he could only presume that similar hair color mixed with the usual Hellmouth luck had something to do with it.

He certainly hoped that Janus hadn't decided to do this because of his friendship with Willow because, regardless of rational thought, he would feel a little responsible for her present circumstances.

"Do you want the honest answer or the reassuring one?" he asked, figuring he'd give her control of how things went.

"H-honest one," she replied, looking at him with trusting eyes.

"I think someone did some mojo to turn us into our costumes," he said since it meshed with the fragments and his own deductive reasoning ability. "Not sure how but somehow the spell thought you'd dressed as Dominique Destine… Demona."

He could see when the names he'd provided connected with Willow's own memories of the Disney cartoon because she looked back down at her hands as well as the tattered remains of the business suit. A thought occurred to him that had him determined to keep her distracted for as long as possible so he grabbed her head and forced her to look him in the eyes.

"Chill, Willow! Chill! We'll get this fixed in no time!" he said before using his lopsided smile to reassure her further. "We'll do all night research sessions for the entire week, the entire MONTH if necessary, until we find a way to get you back to normal. Giles is an arcane encyclopedia with legs and he has the Watcher's Council to call on. Everything'll be fine!"

"Quite right, Xander," came a British voice from far end of the back room.

Both he and Willow turned to the voice to see that Giles was present as well and looked as though he'd been tossed to his current position rather than having moved there himself. Still, it made sense that the Watcher was here since it was likely G-Man who tracked the spell here and put an end to it. If Giles learned enough about the spell to track it to the costume shop then that raised the odds of him knowing enough to reverse the changes done to Willow.

"I swear to you, Willow, I will exhaust every resource I possess to find a means to undo the changes made to your body," Giles said as he got to his feet. "For now, though, I believe it would be best if we distanced ourselves from this shop. While I am skeptical about the authorities coming to investigate the shop, I cannot rule it out entirely."

"Yeah. There's first time for everything," he said even as he helped his best bud to her now three-toed feet. "Time to beat feet, Willow."

Willow only nodded in response as they made for the back door to the costume shop, stumbling a few times since it wasn't easy going from walking flat footed on a five toed foot to walking on the balls of a three toed foot. Add to that the imbalance caused by the addition of wings and a tail… to say that it took them awhile to get back to the library unseen would not be an exaggeration. Still, they managed but it was not without feeling down

They'd gone out from the school with a group full of elementary school children.

Now they were returning without them and they had no idea where the kids were or even if they were still alive. Sure, many of them went as heroes or at least people capable of defending themselves but others went as monsters or noncombatants who knew nothing of fighting. He prayed that nothing serious happened to any of them, that Giles was right about the real demons staying in tonight, and that they'd all return safely home to their parents.

If even one of them died before the spell had been ended… it'd be one more thing to hate the Hellmouth for along with the guy that was behind the spell.

"Now I'll need to research both chaos magic and Roman spells," Giles said as he immediately began to go to the bookshelves taking what he needed as he went. "While I do not have a great deal on the former, I do have quite a bit on the latter so I should be able to get a grasp of what direction we should direct our efforts in."

"So no quick cures by morning?" he asked, hoping that it would be that easy.

"No. What I recall of chaos magic makes it clear that it is an unstable and unpredictable discipline that most avoid since it usually doesn't provide the desired results. Therefore it stands to reason that coming up with a means of countering such magic will be equally difficult," Giles replied as he finished making his rounds of the bookshelves. "It'd be like trying to catch a drunken hummingbird with your weaker arm. Difficult and time consuming but not impossible."

"Then here's hoping you've got some extra strength pain killers in your office," he said, looking to Willow with concern.

"What do you mean?" Giles asked, looking away from his books.

"I know what he means," Willow replied with dread in her tone. "He means that when the sun rises I'll be in a lot of pain and will need those pain killers."

"What? I do not understand." Giles said, looking at him with a puzzled look on his face.

"She got transformed into Demona's human personae Dominique Destine. Demona was born a female gargoyle and for most of her life that meant turning to stone at sunrise," he explained even as his mind produced images of what might happen. "Then she made the mistake of messing with Puck. She asked him to make it so that she would no longer turn to stone at sunrise but he was peeved so he gave her what she wanted with a twist. Instead of remaining her usual gargoyle self during the day, she gets transformed into a human."

"But how does that-?" Giles asked as he seemed to get a hint of the reason behind his concern.

"It always looked pretty painful in the cartoon," he replied with a serious look. "Bend over and drop to your knees painful."

"Good lord!" Giles declared with the justified level of concern. "Well, I do have a fully stocked First Aid kit as well as a few potent painkillers. Given Buffy's prodigious recuperative abilities she would shake off conventional over the counter painkillers fairly quickly. If we are mindful of the dosage they should suffice."

He didn't mention that he was concerned about whether or not Willow might be seriously injured as a result of the transformation. From what he'd seen in the cartoon the pain that Demona experienced was due to the shifting of organs and the merging of flesh since he figured that body of a gargoyle was different than that of a human both on the inside as well as on the outside. He'd always believed that the only thing that allowed Demona to survive such a process every sunrise and sunset was the immortality bond she had with MacBeth. The magic that bound those two together kept either of them from dying at anyone else's hands other than each other's, healing damage cause by anyone else.

Willow didn't have an immortality bond with anyone.

If Willow's hurt or… killed by the transformation… he thought as a murderous look covered his face for a moment. …I'll bring the guy responsible back from the dead just to kill him all over again. SLOWLY.

Then as quickly as it'd appeared the lethal look vanished to be replaced with his usual slacker casualness.

Sunnydale High School Library

Willow's POV

This is SO weird, she thought as she tried to figure out how to sit comfortably on a chair with three new appendages getting in the way.

She knew she should be freaking out at her change in species as well as what'd likely happen at sunrise but whether it was shock or her learning to orient her mind, she was treating it all as just another assignment to be researched then passed in on time. Like Xander she'd watched the 'Gargoyles' cartoon both because it was fun and because it allowed her to spend time with the teenage guy she had a crush on. She hadn't chosen the ladies business suit with the idea to pretend to be Demona, if she'd wanted a costume to match up with Xander's she would've chosen Fox or Elisa Maza, but she was beginning to understand that nothing went as planned on a Hellmouth.

It took what seemed like five minutes but she finally managed to manipulate her extra limbs and her posture so that she could sit in relative comfort. It still felt unreal for the sensation of touch that she remembered to not match what her brain was telling her now since it expanded from her back as well as from below her waist. She could FEEL the air on her wings. She could FEEL her tail unconsciously swaying back and forth behind her. They were such alien sensations that they were throwing her mentally whether she wanted them to or not.

She just hoped that she wouldn't have to deal with it for very long.

Footsteps.

She could hear footsteps quickly approaching the doors to the library and she realized that before tonight they would've sounded more muffled. Instead the sound was coming through loud and clear along with the quick breathing of the person approaching the headquarters of the Scooby gang. Only a few seconds later did they open wide to reveal Buffy, who looked like someone had tied her to the back of a dirt bike before touring the forest outside Sunnydale. The dress was dirty, the wig was in complete disarray and stains tarnished both cloth as well as skin. She couldn't see any cuts or injuries though so it wasn't too bad but it still made clear that the Slayer had experienced a rough night.

"Giles you'll never believe the night-" Buffy said before her expression changed. "DEMON!"

In the blink of an eye the Slayer had an improvised weapon in hand and was coming straight at her with lethal intent in her eyes.

She doesn't recognize me! she thought with fear as she realized what could happen in the next few seconds.

It was then that instinct took over where conscious thought came up short as she rose to her feet, her wings flaring out as though to make herself appear bigger. It was only when Buffy executed a thrust with the tip of the flag pole she'd grabbed that her body ducked under it only to execute a sweep with her tail. It did its job by sending the blonde Slayer to the ground but, with the skill of her Calling, Buffy managed a backwards roll to regain her footing. Hands clenched into fists it was clear her friend would continue the assault even though she'd lost the flag pole in the leg sweep. In her case, though, the flare of instinct was beginning to withdraw and conscious thought was coming back, leaving her wondering what she should do.

"BUFFY STOP!" Xander yelled as he rushed from the bookshelves where he'd been helping Giles. "THAT'S WILLOW!"

This pierced through the Slayer's battle mode, causing her to stop mid-dash before looking at Xander and then Giles as though to confirm with them that she'd heard correctly. When Buffy received affirmative nods from both guys, the blonde looked at her, REALLY looked, and then the last of her battle readiness bled out, leaving only confusion and bafflement behind.

"Willow?" Buffy asked, obviously looking for verbal confirmation of what she was being told.

"Y-yeah…it's me…" she said as her wings settled with her emotional state. "…please no slaying."

"And I thought I had it bad!" Buffy exclaimed as she pulled off the wig that'd, up until then, had only stayed on her head due to metal clips.

She couldn't help but feel a little down at that statement because she had to agree that being turned into some noblewoman was definitely better than being turned into a genocide obsessed gargoyle.

"Way to raise the mood!" Xander said with a moderate amount of annoyance in his voice.

"Sorry," Buffy said, sounding genuinely remorseful for her insensitive remark. "I'm assuming Giles is going to be able to fix this?"

"I will do my best but I will need more than one night to gain an understanding of what needs to be done," Giles replied even as he began to go through one of the books he'd selected. "Did you gain any lingering side effects after the conclusion of the spell?"

"Not really," Buffy replied after a moment's thought. "I mean I can still remember a lot of the stuff Lady Useless did but it doesn't feel like it'll stick around for very long."

"Lady Useless?" Xander asked, sounding curious and amused about the name.

"The noblewoman I turned into… wasn't what I thought she'd be like," Buffy replied, looking both awkward and embarrassed. "Lots of screaming. Lots of running. No sophistication."

She couldn't help but smile at the image that produced in her mind.

Even if she had done her best to help Buffy choose the perfect costume so that she could impress Angel, it amused her to find out how it'd backfired. She didn't show this on her face but she had no doubt that Giles could see the twinkle of amusement in her eyes but, like her, he didn't let Buffy in on the truth.

Of course Xander didn't quite conceal his own amusement, earning him a glare from Buffy.

"Are you going to keep wearing your costume all night Xander?" Buffy said with irritation as she strode over to the young man. "At least take the wig and ears off."

In a move to help him the Slayer reached out and succeeded in pulling off the wig of white hair, revealing the familiar brown hair that had been hidden beneath. Xander rolled his eyes a bit but reached up just the same to remove the fake pointed ears that'd come with the costume in order to come as close as possible to looking like the cartoon variation of Puck. Seeing him grasp the ears, she waited to see him pull them off so that his normal ears could be seen but oddly enough that didn't happen. She watched as a look of puzzlement became one of concern as her friend seemed to be having trouble getting the ears to come off. Was there some sort of adhesive on the inside meant to keep them in place that wasn't letting go like it should be? The more time had passed, the more she began to share his concern but Buffy on the other hand was merely impatient.

"Off with the ears, Xan!" Buffy said, not having clued into the fact that there was a problem.

"I'd…like to…but…" Xander said even as he felt around the ears to see if he'd missed the seam between synthetic and organic.

"But nothing!" Buffy said, reaching forth, grabbing hold of the ears and pulling.

The result was not what was expected.

"Owowowowowowowowowowow!" Xander cried out in pain even as Buffy upped her efforts to remove the ears that continued to resist removal. "Buffy! Buffy! They're not coming off! STOP!"

They're not coming off?

"What did you use to keep those fake ears in place?" Buffy asked, looking stumped as to why she'd been unable to pry them off.

"I…I don't think they're fake anymore," Xander said with a bit of anxiety like when they were on patrol and one of them heard a sound they couldn't immediately identify.

Seeing him withdraw his hands, she saw proof to verify his statement.

Instead of consistent color she could see red scattered across the ears like real ones would have if someone pulled or pinched them roughly. When she looked even closer, she noticed that they didn't have some of the basic signs of being artificial like she'd seen in other accessories at Ethan's costume shop. They didn't have the artificial coloring and, unless the owner of the place had hired a master from Hollywood to make them, the only possible conclusion was that they had indeed become real.

They had indeed become a part of Xander's head.

"Oh dear," Giles muttered as looked at the young man with worry.

"Yeah. What Giles said," she said as she considered what kind of additional baggage might've come with the ears.