Okay, even for Sunnydale, this is weird, was the first thought through the girl's mind. She closed her eyes and tried to take a deep breath. Nothing happened, and Willow's eyes popped open to look down at her body. Oh. Right. Ghost. Ghosts. Don't. Breathe. Got. That.

"Beeeeeeep!!!!"

Willow's attention was jerked away from her action of pushing her right fingers up through and up the side of the mailbox, and wiggling those fingers protruding from the top of the mailbox, all while giggling at this. She stared again at the Mystery Machine that had rolled forward a few feet to park by Willow and then honked at her. For some reason, looking into the front of that van, with its wide front windshield, the spare tire attached at the top of the radiator grille, and the shiny front bumpers, managed to comfort Willow, and finally got her brain into some kind of working order.

"Listen….Xander. I want you to blink your headlights twice for yes, and once for no, okay?"

Blink. Blink.

"Your name is Xander Harris, right?"

Blink. Blink.

"You were born in….May, 1930."

Blink.

Her eyes fixed on the headlights of a cartoon van, Willow said the most important question: "Do you feel all right?"

Blink. Blink.

Willow sagged, despite having an insubstantial body, and wished she could give a gasp of relief.

"Can you….control your, um, body, to drive around?"

Instead of the headlights blinking, the motor of the van suddenly rumbled into a growl of power, and the van abruptly shot backwards, its steering wheel spinning on its own to quickly turn the car in a sharp curve until it skidded to a stop perpendicular to the curb on the opposite side of the street from Willow. An instant later, the van shot forward, until it was two-thirds of the way to the far curb. The car then made another sharp turn to the left to complete a perfect Y-turn, speeding down the street away from an open-mouthed Willow.

Just before she was about to scream after Xander, Willow saw the rear brake lights of the van blaze red as it stopped and then she watched it drive backwards at an insane speed down the road towards her. Still going faster than the girl had ever driven, the brake lights of the van again turned on, sending the screech of skidding tires throughout the entire neighborhood, as the car spun around virtually on its own axis to slide diagonally across the street to stop at the exact position of the curb where Willow was standing. A moment later, the windshield wipers flicked across the front, once.

"Show-off," muttered Willow.

Blink. Blink.

Willow pointed down the street, yelling, "Buffy went left at the first side street! Go after her, and try to stop her, or keep following her!"

The Mystery Machine peeled rubber and then shot forward. When it reached the side street, it drifted through a skidding turn that would have won a nod of approval from any NASCAR racer. Willow watched this in fascination until the van was out of sight. She suddenly realized, "You idiot! Why didn't you get in there and drive with him?"

The redhead groaned, and started running down the street. After a few steps, she stopped again, muttering curses under her breath as she yanked her ghost costume off and wrapped it around her shoulders, clearly showing off her mini-skirt and clinging top. She hesitated, looking at the houses on her left, muttering, "Got to cut them off…. Here goes nothing." Willow made a slight turn to face the houses and after a momentarily pause, she ran forward, right into the buildings.

She kept running, despite numerous flinches, all while passing unharmed through whole houses and their entire contents, including people, which was really weird, both for her and the people she went through. Finally, Willow burst out of the houses and into the side street that Buffy and Xander had both taken. Looking down the street, she saw at the next intersection a cartoon van driving in circles around a girl in a pink dress on her knees and covering her eyes, cowering in terror.

"BUFFY!" yelled Willow, running to the intersection. Xander-van (as she now dubbed him) came to a stop, his nose pointing at her and his headlights shining on the girl in the sexy outfit and clearly no bra coming towards him at full bouncing speed. The headlights shifted to high beams, with the van rolling back to keep Willow in the brightest, most revealing light.

Coming to a stop in front of Buffy, Willow shot Xander-van a dirty look, and then worriedly stared at her friend. At the sudden change of light, the girl on her knees fearfully took her hands away from her face to see the girl standing across from her, dressed like….like.…

"Get away from me, you harlot!" shouted a proper lady, desperate to escape from the demon keeping her prisoner.

"What did you call me???" incredulously snapped Willow.

"Don't use that tone to your betters!" huffed the girl in the pink gown. "You're clearly a creature with no shame!"

Glaring at Buffy, Willow tried to think, all while keeping a firm grip on her temper. Clearly, like her and Xander, Buffy had turned into her costume, a noblewoman from several centuries ago who thought the world revolved around her and the lower classes were to be kept in their place. The only way to bring back the Slayer was to somehow reverse the change; however, Willow had no idea how it had happened in the first place.

"Giles!" blurted out Willow, ignoring the blank look on the noblewoman's face to stare at Xander-van, who encouragingly blinked his headlights twice. The redhead winced at the dazzling lights, saying sarcastically, "Could you turn it down a little, even if there aren't any cars coming towards you?"

The high beams changed to normal light intensity.

Rolling her eyes, Willow continued, "We've got to talk to Giles! He might know how to fix this, but…. I don't know where he is now --- his apartment, the school, wherever. We need to get to a phone---"

At that moment, the noblewoman screamed again and tried to hide behind Willow as a walking skeleton ambled into the intersection, its fleshless skull hungrily staring at the two women.

In a flash, Xander-van shot forward to stop just in front of the skeleton, the car's motor rumbling dangerously in warning.

The skeleton lurched backwards, a look of fear and disappointment somehow discernable on its skull, even though Willow was uncertain how anyone could tell without it having any face. It slowly turned around to stagger off, its bony feet tapping against the road asphalt at every step. Xander-van remained on guard until the walking pile of bones was well away, and then he rolled back to Willow and Buffy, giving a short honk of his horn that seemed, well, smug. Beeep!

Willow turned to look at Buffy, who was gaping at Xander-van, but she didn't seem about to do her usual screaming and running off. Willow shrugged and thanked whoever for small mercies, and tried to think. After a few moments, the redhead called to Xander-van, "Xander, we need to get to a phone, but I don't think any house here will let us in. Buffy's house is closest. You can drive us there, and, um---" Willow momentarily boggled at trying to get Lady Hopeless to use a phone, and then she rallied, "Well, we'll figure it out when we get there. Right now, we have to get off the streets and somewhere safe."

BEEEP! That seemed to be a honk of agreement, as both front doors of Xander-van swung smartly open. Willow turned to Buffy, who had taken a step back, her eyes wide. Sighing, the redhead urgently spoke, "Bu--- I mean, my lady" (inwardly gritting her teeth), "we must enter that, ah, coach to be taken to a safe place, protected from harm from the monsters now roaming this land."

The girl in the pink dress shot out an imperious finger, pointing it directly at Xander-van. "That is no coach! 'Tis a metal demon, drawn by no living horses, going about its fiendish business!"

BEEEEEEEEEEP!

Over Xander-van's outraged honk of protest, Willow shouted, "NO, IT ISN'T!" As she desperately thought, she added, "It's a….friendly spirit!"

At Buffy's dubious stare, Willow went on, "That….metal coach holds the soul of a most gentle knight, Alexander by name, who in his search for his true love, passed away from this world, but faithful to his vow to protect the innocent, defend the weak, and guard fair maidens, he was tasked to live again, his spirit residing inside a chariot of iron, to succor the flower of womanhood, by the grace of God!"

As Willow finished, she watched with disbelief the dreamy look that had suddenly appeared on Buffy's features. She can't really be buying this load of crap, can she?

The noblewoman, now firm of face, walked past the strumpet, to stand before the most strange and yet gallant soldier of high rank that she had ever met. Bending her knees in a deep curtsey, a lady who certainly knew her manners spoke in a respectful voice. "I pray thy pardon, sir knight. Wilt thou aid a maiden in distress, and someone else who hath not been that for lo these many years, I avow?"

The only reason that Willow didn't promptly pluck Buffy bald was that ghostly fingers couldn't rip away hair.

Xander-van's headlights dimmed. Lady Buffy probably took that as a sign of willing assent and knightly reverence. A fuming Willow was more prepared to bet that her best friend since kindergarten was rolling his eyes in the only way he could.

The redhead watched Buffy (aka Her Royal Brainlessness) cautiously enter the passenger side and climb into the seat, fussing with her gown, and then peering curiously at the dashboard and the glove compartment.

Shaking her head, Willow started to walk around to the driver's seat, until she stopped short and went back to the passenger side of the van behind the seat occupied by Buffy, looking thoughtfully at that part of the vehicle. Cautiously, she extended her hand until she had it right against the van's side, and inwardly flinching, she pushed it right through the metal. It didn't hurt at all, and Xander seemed to show no reaction to this, so Willow gathered up her courage and just walked through the side of the van into it.

Once there, she gingerly sat down cross-legged on the floor of the van. After a few moments, she looked down, and blushing, she unwrapped her ghost costume from her neck and dropped it into her lap. She thought, I'm….inside Xander. Hastily banishing that very strange and cause-of-stomach-quivering reflection, Willow tried to find something else to occupy her mind. Looking around the empty portion of the back of the van, Willow was a bit surprised at the bare area with an uncovered metal floor, sides and ceilings. Come to think of it, I don't remember the back of the van being shown all that often during the cartoons. Shrugging, Willow called out, "Okay, Xander, let's go."

Xander-van slowly closed both the driver and passenger doors, causing Buffy to give a squeak of surprise as the door shut by her. The van then slowly drove forward, bringing another startled gasp from the noblewoman that turned into a panicked yelp as the brakes of the van were suddenly slammed on. Buffy was thrown forward, promptly uttering a full-blow scream as she was pressed up against the front windshield to have a ringside seat, just a few feet away, of the girl in a tattered costume being chased by a wolfman across the front of the van.