In the Sunnydale High library, a blissful smile slowly appeared on Xander's face. Even the continuous pounding in his head lessened slightly at contemplating once more the cherished memory of Angel's first meeting with Rooster Cogburn. It soon got even better…

Rooster welcomed the opportunity for another nip of some really fine booze during all the fuss around the front door. The liquor slid down his throat so smoothly the lawman took it completely in stride how that rude gatecrasher who'd just taken a bullet directly in the head then rose to his feet while shaking off the ghost girl trying to talk to him. As for the cat whore, she merely watched it all with a very sardonic look on her beautiful face.

Ignoring the minor fact he should've been fit for nothing at present save for a quick trip to the local bone yard in a coffin, the stranger marched up to where Rooster was draining his half-empty bottle. Getting up right into the lawman's face, the other man furiously roared at him, "Xander, you idiot, give me that gun! Buffy, why on earth did you let him carry a real weapon? This stupid little shite just showed how hopeless he is, having no idea how to safely use-"

While still in full angry flow, the shouting nincompoop turned his head to direct those last venomous words towards a genuinely confused girl. She shrank back in her chair with increasing fright at the noisy man dressed all in black, who seemed quite willing to go on berating this aristocratic young lady. Which meant he'd completely taken his attention away from the teenage nuisance in the remarkably shabby coat, who'd had more than enough at that point from this distracted loudmouth standing next to him.

Crunch!

Without batting an eye or otherwise giving any kind of advance warning to his newest enemy, Rooster had lifted with blinding speed his hand still holding a just-fired gun. Judging it to a nicety, the man with a black eyepatch rammed the scorching barrel of his revolver halfway up the right nostril of a most imprudent feller.

Instantly halting in his harangue at the sudden incredible agony radiating from his nose, Angel froze in utter shock, to then hear an irritated, "How many goddamn times do I haveta say it? I ain't this Xander kid! Also, even if yer part a' my DT's, ya don't sass like that a properly sworn-in officer of the law! Either mind yer manners, or get ready to fill yore hand, ya sonofabitch!"

Not daring to move anything but his widened eyes, the vampire glanced down with these. He then stared in real horror at the whitening trigger finger clearly about to fire an enormous handgun in the next second. An action which would undoubtedly blow Angel's head off his shoulders at once. His demonic body could take an incredible amount of punishment, as seen by easily surviving a single bullet several moments ago, even if this round had gone directly through his brain. It was true this had been both painful and disorientating, but only some sort of extensive destruction to that specific part of the vampire's animated corpse would finally end his magical unlife.

A fired pistol shoved deep inside his sinus cavities during this, accompanied by a blast of furnance-hot gases emitting from the muzzle at the same time, would most certainly accomplish the extinction of Angel. In a split second, the proper course of action was decided by a cowardly demon: apologize without delay in the most groveling manner possible. He could always get his revenge on Xander (or whoever this was) later, but right now, beg for mercy!

In a trembling, craven whine, Angel babbled, "Sir, I'm terribly sorry! Please forgive me, and I promise never to do it again! Now, would you be so kind as to carefully remove your gun- AAAAAHHHH!"

Not only had a smirking Rooster roughly yanked out the embedded barrel from his screaming victim's nose in total disregard of that pleading request, but the gun had been given a brutal twist along the way. Just to remind nancy-boy who was the boss here.

Things quickly quieted down after that, with the various people there becoming occupied with their own affairs. The two young whores promptly hustled that yellow-belly away to the most remote corner of the room. They soon commenced a rapid, low-voiced discussion among themselves. After a minute or so, all while tenderly touching at his aching face, the man in black was sending incredulous glances to where a Western movie character steadily worked his way through the rest of the liquor cabinet.

Any thoughts of again confronting the booted maniac were quickly dismissed by a sulking Angel. This might have something to do with seeing how Harris in his new personae nonchalantly kept his right hand free and near his now-holstered gun. Seemingly not paying any attention to the others across the room, this boy continuously using his left hand to drink from numerous bottles also made sure to face in the vampire's general direction.

Indeed, Rooster was dividing his attention between appreciating this vodka stuff and staying on guard against nancy-boy trying something really dumb. That accounted for having a few minutes pass before he noticed the last of their company was gone from the room. The law enforcement officer felt a wave of unwelcome sobriety abruptly wash over him. That conceited little pest hadn't departed the house through the front door or gone upstairs; he'd have seen her do either of these. Which left only one place where she could be-

Behind Rooster in the kitchen, there came the sounds of splintering wood from a smashed-through back door. This was immediately followed by a girl's terrified scream. Still howling in fright at the top of her lungs, the young lady who'd previously gone in there to be alone came bursting out from the rear room while sprinting at her best speed in a long dress and dancing pumps. Considering the pursuing nightmare with its fangs and claws menacingly displayed, the girl named Buffy did have good cause for her extreme panic at the moment.

Rooster, on the other hand, calmly waited for Buffy to pass him by, even taking the time to put down on a side table the bottle he'd been swigging from a second before. This motion caught the attention of the creature reaching with clutching talons for its original prey. Slowing down slightly in its chase, the monster instead lashed out with a swing of a deadly arm, fully confident it'd tear out the throat of this puny human.

However, a veteran of decades of violence moved even faster than his abnormal opponent. Rooster's pistol materialized in his right hand, and his other flattened palm fanned the hammer of the revolver multiple times. This was done so swiftly the numerous shots running together sounded like a continuous roar. Four rounds pumped right into this enemy's skull messily destroyed that cranium. Even before the now-deceased demon hit the floor, another four rapid gunshots struck the falling body in the chest, directly at heart level. Just in case.

Warily eyeing the dissolving corpse on the carpet until becoming satisfied it was fully dead and no longer dangerous, Rooster looked up at where the other three people across the room were gawking at him-

A supremely disgusted expression instantly appeared upon the youthful features of someone an awestruck Willow, Cordelia, and Angel had known up to tonight as Xander Harris. Following where the teenager's displeased glare shown by this riled one-eyed boy stopped, the rest of the house's occupants saw their dwelling's front door was now wide open. Which, if it was actually needed, was a confirmation another Chaos-affected high school student had just dashed outside to face alone the Halloween dangers of Sunnydale.

For the next couple of minutes, further evidence was provided for the Scooby Gang that their companion wasn't a modern-day California slacker by the volcanic eruption of Southern-accented vile profanity being hollered at them by Rooster Cogburn. Wincing at some of the things they were called, the trio still sheepishly acknowledged to themselves they really should've stopped Buffy in her flight from this unknowing girl's home. Now, the group had to go search for her throughout a most perilous night.

Rooster wasn't at all thrilled by having those ninnies come along with him, but there seemed to be no other alternative. The house's wrecked back door meant anything else could now easily get inside to threaten those who remained behind. If they had to leave to find another safe place, everyone might as well as participate in looking for Buffy. It was then that what's-his-name, Angel, came out (all while sharing a very significant glance with the other girls) with a very odd admission in that he could track down Miss Prissy by her smell alone.

Feeling decidedly put out by his delirium tremens at this time going into genuinely loony territory, Rooster contemptuously glowered at the nancy-boy before snorting, "That so? Even over the stink coming from the barrel of perfumed Frenchy hair grease ya poured onto yore head tonight?"

For some reason, this irascible remark promptly made the ghost girl and the cat girl giggle together in unison. In turn, this mirth drew to them a definitely furious look from Angel-cheeks. Switching his wrathful expression back to where Rooster was ostentatiously resting a hand upon the stock of his holstered weapon, the other male's pasty-white face went momentarily blank. At last, Angel snappishly gritted, "Yes. Now, can we go? Every second we're wasting here means Buffy's getting further away."

Well, this was true enough, Rooster mentally grudged. Not that he was gonna let the nancy-boy think just because he might somehow be useful, the marshal would particularly trust him in the slightest. Jerking a left thumb in the direction of the ajar front door, an extremely cynical lawman drawled, "Fine, ya go first. But understand me, ya do anything I don't care fer, and yore soon gonna regret it. Whatever ya get around to with other fellers, I'm damn sure ya really don't wanna have up yore butt a passel of forty-four gauge slugs. All right, people, let's head out!"

An U.S. marshal then shooed through the front door both a spluttering man in black evidently about to pitch a massive apoplectic fit and two girls desperately trying to control their laughter. This small group then left the house, not knowing that several miles distant from where they were, Rupert Giles was also on his way to a certain costume shop.