Disclaimer: Buffy characters belong to Joss & co. Cinderella and all associated pumpkins, fairy godmothers, wicked sisters and singing mice belong to Disney.

Author's Notes: This is what happens when I read challenges late at night while quite inebriated - they seem like a good idea.

Feedback: If the mood should so strike you, drop me a line.


Once Upon A Time...

A girl called Bufferella lived a life of drudgery.

She didn't find it so bad you know. Most people would have - night and day she was at her stepmother's beck and call, catering to her stepsisters' every demand. But Bufferella was one of those special kind of people, the kind that sing to birds in forests and buy apples from wandering hags and take 400 year long beauty sleeps. She wasn't bothered by her harsh life, and didn't feel particularly hard done by and downtrodden.

Of course, occasionally she would feel down in the dumps and sit for hours, staring at the bright sunshine outside the window, watching overly happy wildlife frolic through brightly painted forest scenes. But then, as all manic depressive heroines do, she would rise from her doldrums and go on a neurotic cleaning spree around the house.

One evening as Bufferella was washing, cleaning and other various domestic chor-ing about the house, she noticed her step-sisters, Drusilla and Darlastacia cooing over a letter that Angel - her misleadingly named wicked stepmother (actually her misleadingly named step-father in drag) - was holding in her hand.

"Oh, what's that you have there?" Bufferella asked timidly from behind the mountain of clothes she was ironing (in blatant disregard of the fact that no one had invented the iron yet).

"Well it's of no concern to you," Angel sneered, "but Prince Charming is holding a ball at the palace to find a bride."

"Oh? A ball?" Bufferella was intrigued, for even though she had no interest in marrying the Prince, a sudden and unexpected light had sprung up at the end of her tunnel. A marriage and quickie divorce could be enough to get her out of the country and away from her dysfunctional and overbearing family.

So she planned in secret, displaying a previously hidden ingenuity in plotting her Big Night Out. The only thing she hadn't managed to organise was a dress.

On the day of the ball, while lamenting her very limited wardrobe, a shrill voice spoke up behind her.

"Bufferella. Oh Bufferella, we can get you a dress."

"Oh yes," a second, similar voice answered, "Do let us help."

Bufferella turned around and saw two small mice standing on her windowsill, doing their best to look helpful. It was a mark of Bufferella's suitability to the role of beleaguered heroine that, instead of being surprised by the fact that two rodents were apparently trying to strike up a conversation with her, she latched onto their offer of help.

"You could get me a dress?"

"Sure," Wilmouse piped up. "There was this chick in the forest about a week ago, Goldi-something or other. Anyway, she was done for breaking and entering up by the old Bear place and now she's doing five to ten. She won't be needing her old dresses anymore."

"Wow," Bufferella grinned, sensing the various plot devices beginning to fall into place, "that'd be great, thanks so much."

"No problem." The mice waved happily at Bufferella as they hopped off the windowsill and went in search of a suitable ballgown, singing merrily as they went.

#Bufferelly, Bufferelly,
looks like that Sarah chick on the telly.
She spends her days dusting tables and lamps,
though she'd look more at home dusting vamps.
Doesn't care about finding her one and only,
she can live like a Queen off of alimony.

She's gonna crash the Palace Ball,
And try to snag herself a fella,
But you'd best be ready for a fall,
Watch your back, Bufferella#

Oblivious to this verse full of foreshadowing, Bufferella was happily dancing around her room, humming a happy tune as she was wont to do. Unfortunately, it was just then that her evil stepmother entered the room. Being quick of wit (and having seen the original cartoon), Angel realised that the tune Bufferella was humming was the Ball Waltz and that her most deprived stepdaughter was planning to attend the palace Ball against her express wishes. Now Angel didn't particularly care one way or another whether Bufferella was at the Ball or not, but, being the control freak she was, this blatant disregard of her orders grated.

"Oh!" Angel recoiled in horror. "You can't possibly be planning to go to the palace. YOU of all people!" She laughed cruelly and called her two daughters in. "Look at poor little delusional Bufferella thinking she could ever get past the stringent dress code that those palace guys have."

"I'll have you know," Bufferella insisted, close to tears, "that a couple of helpful mice are picking up my dress as we speak."

Angel stopped laughing and looked at Bufferella closely, wondering if perhaps the years of torment had finally taken their toll. "The mice, eh?"

"Yes!" Bufferella sobbed quietly, "they're picking it up from Goldi-something who doesn't need it anymore because the only gowns she's wearing from now on are prison issue."

"Riiiiiiiiight," Angel looked to Drusilla and Darlastacia who both shrugged indifferently at their step-sister's seemingly overbalanced mental state. "Girls," Angel ordered, "Get her to the tower."

"But the ball is tonight! I MUST go to the ball!" Bufferella cried, her dreams of fleeing the country and lounging on a sunkissed beach somewhere being handed brightly coloured cocktails rapidly fading.

In her desperation, Bufferella tried to rush past them out of the room, but her step-sisters grabbed her arms and dragged her up to the conveniently located tower which her stepmother had insisted on building when they moved in.

"Every wicked stepmother needs a good strong tower in the eventuality that some hapless young maiden will need imprisoning some day," she had explained. "The thorn bushes are, of course, optional."

And so Bufferella lounged in her prison, idly wondering how long it would take for her hair to grow to such a length that any likely rescuer could climb up it and free her. After deciding that she'd be about a hundred and forty and in no fit state for scaling tower walls by that stage, she resigned herself to the fact that she would, in fact, NOT be attending the ball and instead would have to settle on finding a mail-order groom to deliver her from her life of drudgery.

Oblivious to the fact that many miles away a desperate Prince Riley was looking for an envelope he could fit into, Bufferella stood by the window and issued a heartfelt plea to anyone who might be listening.

"Oh please! Please, if anyone can hear me, won't you help me? Won't you help me got to the ball so I can marry the Prince and escape from this terrible, terrible life?"

And, as is the way of these things, her cry was heard by the very set of ears that could help solve her problem.

With a cloud of smoke and a great poof, an overwhelmingly pink apparition materialised in the middle of the tower.

After convincing Julian Clarey that the tower wasn't big enough for two of them, Graham Norton turned to Bufferella.

"Who the fuck are you and what the fuck are you doing in my tower?" Bufferella demanded, momentarily forgetting her demure stereotype and channeling Kevin Smith in the heat of the moment.

"Sweetheart, I'm your Fairy Godmother. Why else would I be wearing a pink gown and wings... wait, don't answer that." Graham looked Bufferella up and down a few times.

"Hmmmmm, well that outfit is SO not going to work for the Palace. Let me seeeeeeee..."

He trailed off thoughtfully then suddenly his face lit up. "Of course!"

With a flourish he produced the strangest looking magic wand Bufferella had ever seen. It appeared to have a pink, jelly-like protrusion at one end.

"What's that?" she asked, half afraid of the answer.

"This? Oh, it's Betty's Tongue," Graham explained, switched it on, upped the speed setting and proceeded to wave it about vigorously.

"Bufferella," he proclaimed, "you shall SO go to the ball!"

---

Ten minutes, one pumpkin and some very disoriented mice later, Bufferella was ready to go.

"Wow, who could have guessed you could do so much with one pumpkin and a couple of rodents?" Bufferella mused as she surveyed her new coach and horses. "Martha Stewart would be proud."

"No problem, sweetie. Oh and here," Graham handed her a pair of pink glass slippers. "These are SO you."

"This isn't funny," Wilhorse said to her companion.

"What? You can accept the fact that we were singing mice but not horses?" Tarhorse replied.

"At least as mice we knew where we stood."

"Yeah, very close to the ground and generally near cheese. At least with the horse gig we get groomed and fed and we get to have pretty girls ride us all day long..."

Wilhorse nudged her partner irritably. "Down, horse girl. You know this'll only last til midnight."

"Why's that?" Tarhorse scrunched up her nose.

"Coz that's the deal, my pretty pony," Graham explained. "At midnight my mojo runs out and you return to normal. That is," he looked at the singing mice turned horse, "as close to normal as you usually are. Anyway, I've got a date to keep with Miles O'Keefe so toodles!"

--

Prince Charming sighed as yet another single, available and hideously boring young woman made her departure with an ear-shattering, brain-melting laugh.

"You asked for this bro." His sister, the even-more-Charming Princess, Faith, smirked at her brother's discomfort.

"Shut up or I'll convince Mom that an alliance with Stupidville would be a really good idea and you should marry Prince Riley to seal the deal."

"You wouldn't dare." Faith grinned. "I know where all your issues of 'Royal Tarts' are."

"Speaking of," Spike growled at his sister, "I want the October issue back."

"You'll get it when I'm done."

Just then their attention was distracted by the entrance of the single most gorgeous female either of them had ever seen.

'At least I hope it's a female,' Faith thought to herself, 'I swear if one more guy in drag shows up tonight...'

Her train of thought derailed as she watched the new arrival make her way across the floor, heading towards the royal dais.

"If you'll excuse me," Spike said as he stood, "I should go do my duty as host and greet the lady."

Faith narrowed her eyes as she watched Spike approach the girl and begin to dance with her. Her gaze and that of all the other hopefuls in the room was riveted on the blonde as she danced with the Prince.

"Lucky bastard," she growled and headed off to get a drink.

She returned just in time to see Spike being accosted by their mother, who was determined not to let her only son's attention be held by one woman for too long. Seeing her chance, Faith slipped through the crowd to stand beside the enigmatic blonde, taking her hand to catch her attention.

"If I profane with my unworthiest hand this holy shrine, the gentle fine is this: My lips, two blushing pilgrims, ready stand to smooth that rough touch with a tender kiss."

"What the hell kind of stupid come-on line is that?" Bufferella turned to see the beautiful brunette Princess she had noticed when she first entered the Palace standing behind her.

Faith mentally kicked herself for listening to that stupid Billy guy and instead adopted her more usual approach. "Wanna dance?"

Bufferella shrugged. Admittedly she was here to try and snag herself the Prince, but now that she had met him she found herself with an irresistible urge to drive a small pointy wooden stick through his heart. Besides which, the Princess had incredible deep brown eyes and a really cute smile. She shrugged.

"Sure."

And so they danced. They danced and twirled and pirouetted and occasionally, when they thought no one was looking, copped a quick feel. Suffice to say that by the time the Palace Band had gotten onto 'Rock The Boat', there was a definite bond between our glammed up heroine and the ever so Charming Princess.

"Wow," Faith looked at the very large, appropriately placed clock over the staircase, "I can't believe it's nearly midnight."

"Nearly mid-" Bufferella whirled and saw the second hand counting down, bringing her inexorably closer to public shabbiness and humiliation. "Crap! I gotta go!"

And with that she gathered up her skirts and fled from the Palace. As she descended the steps, she could see Wilhorse and Tarhorse prancing impatiently. Just then, with the impeccable timing that only six inch heels can have, her left shoe gave way and she stumbled down the last few steps.

'Waterford Crystal my ass,' she thought to herself and kicked the shoe off so she could run faster to the carriage. Bufferella was a streetwise girl and knew she had no chance in hell of hitchhiking home with a pumpkin and two talking mice under her arm.

Meanwhile, inside the palace, Faith was fighting her way through the crowd in pursuit of the mysterious girl. She emerged in the courtyard just in time to see a suspiciously orange carriage take a corner at high speed and vanish into the distance.

"Well that was extremely odd," Faith remarked to her loyal page Buttons who had materialised at her side.

"Indeed," Buttons replied, "and what's even stranger is this weird pink shoe she dropped." And he held up Bufferella's discarded glass slipper.

Now at this point, most prospective suitors would have shrugged and gone back inside to find some other woman to take their mind off the nutcase who had led them on and then vamoosed. But Faith was, after all, one of the Charming Family, and the Charmings were well know around those parts for deeds of daring-do and high class adventures. The Charmings were the kind of family who never settled for the girl next door - unless of course next door happened to be an enchanted castle with moats and dragons and so forth, and the girl was in desperate need of rescuing. So it came as no surprise to Buttons when Faith announced

"Take this slipper Buttons and come with me, for we are going to try it on the foot of every maiden in this fair land til we find the one to whom it rightfully belongs."

"Right," Buttons nodded. "You do realise there are an awful lot of maidens in the kingdom with size five fe-"

"Saddle the horses, Buttons." Steely determination had now turned to manic obsession. "We ride tonight!"

Buttons sighed in weary resignation. "Yes Ma'am."

--

Graham's magic ran out just as Bufferella skidded to a halt outside the door of the house. Unfortunately, Drusilla and Darlastacia had also just arrived home, and got to see first hand, their step-sister's transformation from belle of the ball to her more usual 'just been dragged through a bush backwards... twice' look.

"Bufferella!" Angel emerged from the house and hovered over her wayward step-daughter. "To the tower!"

"Aw crap!" Bufferella grabbed her pumpkin and followed her wicked step-mother up the stairs.

--

Five days later, Faith and Buttons were cantering down a small country road. Faith still had a determined set to her jaw and hope in her eyes. Buttons on the other hand had the smell of a few dozen women's feet on his hands and was rapidly tiring of his liege's latest quest.

"All I'm saying is that in this day and age, personal hygiene isn't exactly the greatest, y'know? And maybe, just maybe, it wouldn't hurt to issue a Royal Edict concerning washing of feet before the slipper is tried on. Maybe."

Oblivious to all her page had just said, Faith sat up straight in her saddle and pointed to a house a few hundred yards down the road.

"There! That's where she'll be!"

"But Your Highness, how do you know?" Buttons asked, screwing up his eyes to try and see whatever had gotten Faith so excited.

"A Charming always knows, Buttons," Faith replied. "A Charming always knows."

--

Angel opened the door to find the Princess and her manservant standing there with a glass slipper on a cushion.

This was not, admittedly, an everyday occurrence, but royalty was royalty and Angel knew a good opportunity when she smelled it. Even if it did smell suspiciously like feet.

"Do come in."

And so, while Buttons tried the slipper on the feet of Darlastacia and Drusilla, Faith explained to Angel that she was searching for the girl whom the slipper would fit, because not only was Faith head over heels in love with this mysterious girl, but several items of silverware had gone missing from the Palace on the night of the ball and the Royal Guard wanted to ask her a few questions.

It soon became apparent that the slipper was not going to fit either of Angel's daughters and Angel shrugged indifferently.

"Oh well, you'll be off so, I suppose," she said pointedly, opening the door.

"Yes," Faith replied, "Just as soon as we've tried the slipper on the foot of the girl in the tower."

Angel laughed nervously. "Tower? There's no girl in the tower."

"Sure there is," Faith insisted. "She was throwing bits of pumpkin at us as we rode up shouting 'Help! Get me out of this tower!' You must have noticed her."

"Oh dear, ha ha," Angel was becoming increasingly nervous. "Do we have a tower? Ha ha. How strange. Ha."

"Shall we just pop upstairs and see if it fits then?" Buttons asked, eager to find the damn girl so he could go home and wash his hands thoroughly... possibly for weeks.

"Lets." Faith said, here eyes narrowing as she watched Angel fidget nervously.

So they all trooped up the stairs whereupon they found Bufferella, and Buttons did kneel before her and lo and behold, the shoe did fitteth upon her dainty foot.

"Sweet!" Faith said as she took Bufferella in her arms, kissing her passionately.

"Finally." Buttons sighed in relief as he wiped his hands on his trousers.

"Aw crap," the villains of the piece chorused.

"See," Tarmouse said to her partner, breaking of a piece of pumpkin and handing it to her. "Told you they'd have a happy ending."

--

And so they did.

Angel, Darlastacia and Drusilla were sent to rot in the Palace jail, as was their due. While in prison, they met a young offender named Goldilocks and the four of them hatched many escape plans, all of which failed.

Prince Charming hooked up with a gorgeous and wealthy noblewoman at the Ball. They were married a month later and went on to produce many strong and healthy heirs. (He eventually did get his October issue of 'Royal Tarts' back.)

After a thorough search, the missing Palace silverware was found down the back of one of the palace sofas, along with 37p, a hairbrush and four sets of carriage keys. Bufferella was cleared of all charges.

The two singing mice set up their own cabaret show and went on to become world famous. Their critically acclaimed 'Our Love Is Like A Pumpkin' show made them enough money to retire comfortably and kept them in camembert for their rest of their lives.

Buttons left the Palace and opened up a cobblers on the outskirts of town where he was free to indulge in his newly-developed shoe fetish.

Graham Norton didn't end up with Miles O'Keefe (though he still treasures his 'Tarzan' collectibles). He and Betty went into business and became multi-millionaires overnight on the sales of Betty's Tongue (TM)

Faith bought Bufferella an island which consisted of many sunkissed beaches and was regularly known to hand her brightly coloured cocktails.

And, of course, they all lived Happily Ever After.

THE END.