Chapter Seven: All Hollow's Eve. What was supposed to be a relaxing night off for all of them turns into a nightmare as they all turn into their costumes- Willow a ghost, Buffy a noblewoman, and Xander a vampire...

"I can't believe that Snyder is making us do this," Xander muttered. "Costumes? Not my thing. Really not my thing."

"He hates getting dressed up," Willow confided to Buffy.

"I don't blame him," Buffy said. "Which isn't to say that I don't enjoy getting dressed up. Just that I can see why Xander would hate it."

"Thank you for your support," Xander said, shooting a hateful glance towards Willow. "She's after me, every damn year, to try some really cool costume or other."

"And this year I get my wish," Willow said smugly. "Costumes are mandatory. Deal with it, baby."

"Willow, I'm ashamed of you. Taking the opportunity to shamelessly rub your victory in Xander's face."

"So, what, you're ashamed of me because I couldn't get him to do it on my own and rub it in that way?"

"Well, naturally," Buffy said. "You could have done better."

They reached the table in the commons and sat down. Xander immediately grabbed a couple of coins and headed for the drink machine.

"So, no Slayage tomorrow?" Willow asked. "That's... weird."

Buffy shrugged. "Dead for the undead, Giles says. Maybe they just think it's too tacky?"

"I guess. Can't blame them, if that's why."

"Maybe there's some mystical whoosit that keeps them under wraps."

"Ask Giles," Willow said, ending the discussion. Her attention had already turned to Xander, who was standing calmly with a Pepsi in his hand, being glared at by Larry.

"Larry, leave off. She's not interested. In fact, she could probably kick your ass without trying."

"Oh, is that right?" Larry growled back. "You think you could take me, Harris?"

Xander shrugged, which seemed to be answer enough for Larry, who pressed one hand to his chest in preparation to shoving him back. Xander moved almost faster than the eye could follow, setting the can down on top of the machine before grabbing the hand on his chest and twisting it painfully behind Larry's back.

"Go," he said quietly into Larry's ear, and when the much larger boy left, rubbing his shoulder, he calmly retrieved the soda and came over to rejoin the girls at their table.

"So," he said casually. "How'd your date go last night, Buff?"

That shook her out of gaping at him. "Not well," she admitted. "There was this vampire, and so I was late and looked, well, trashed."

"Angel didn't mind?" Willow asked, while Xander popped the top on his soda and took a long swallow.

Buffy grimaced. "He didn't seem to. Of course, Cordelia hanging all over him might have sweetened his mood a little."

"Oh, come on, Buffy, Angel would never fall for her," Willow said immediately. "She's so not his type."

"How do I know? I don't even know what his type is," Buffy lamented.

"Strong, beautiful women with mystical destinies, I'm guessing," Xander said, and when both of them stared at him, he held up his hands. "Look, if you really want to know more about Angel, go raid Giles' Watcher diaries. I'm sure they're full of goodies. Just leave me out of it, okay? When Giles asks me if I know anything, I want to be able to smile and say, 'No idea.'" He looked down at his now-empty can. "I'm gonna go grab lunch. Catch up with you two at the costume shop this afternoon?"

"Sure," Buffy said, then shared a wide-eyed glance with Willow as soon as he left. "Did you see that?" she hissed. "The thing with Larry. He was all... commanding. Not-Xander."

"Maybe that's Xander now?" Willow suggested. Buffy gave her a disbelieving look, and she shook her head. "Okay, so he's still as goofy as ever, most of the time. When he isn't dealing with major angst over that guy he's seeing."

Buffy heaved a huge sigh of relief. "Oh god, I'm so glad he told you about that," she said when Willow gave her an odd look. "It was killing me, not being sure if he'd said anything and so not being able to talk about it. What do you think is up with those two, anyway?"

"I don't know," Willow admitted. "He told me what was up right after he told you, I think, and he hasn't said anything since. Maybe nothing's happened?"

Buffy gave her another get-real look. "The way he's been acting? No way. There's something up, that's for sure. I just don't know what."

"Maybe we can find out?" Willow suggested. "Corner him the day after tomorrow, when all this Halloween nonsense is over with? See if we can get the truth out of him?"

Buffy smirked at her. "The girl with the plan, I like it," she said. "But in the meantime... What say we take up Xander's suggestion and dig up the dirt on Angel?"

"Hey you two," Xander said, coming up behind Willow and Buffy in the costume shop. "Picked anything yet?"

Willow held up the package containing the "ghost" costume, and he shook his head. "Willow, Willow, why is it that you rag me about neat costumes and yet pick the oldest gag in the box?"

"See?" A triumphant Buffy turned on Willow. "I told you!"

"You told her what?" Xander asked, confused.

"That Halloween is the night to come as you aren't! The night to go all-out."

"I totally agree," Xander said, "which is why I got... this."

He pulled his own packages out of the bag, and held up a makeup kit. "Vampire," he explained. "Figured I'd go for that nice, ironic touch. Set of full black clothes, maybe something a little radical, and I'm set."

Buffy snorted. "I thought this was come-as-you-aren't night, Xander."

He sneered at her. "I resemble that remark," he said, his nose in the air, but stopped when he realized that Buffy was no longer paying attention to him.

Instead, she was wandering off between the racks, and when Xander and Willow followed her, they saw what was catching her attention: a beautiful, full-skirted pink ball gown. "It's so beautiful," she whispered.

"There was this drawing in the Watcher's diary," Willow muttered in aside to Xander.

"Let me guess: beautiful girl?"

"Oh yeah."

"Here, let me," a strange man said, emerging from the back. He unzipped the back of the dress and held it up in front if Buffy with a flourish. "Why, it's you."

Buffy stared at her reflection in the mirror, her mouth open slightly with awe. "I- I can't afford this," she stammered, and the man smiled kindly down at her.

"Nonsense. I feel moved to make you an offer you can't refuse."

"It looks great," Willow said.

"Yeah, go for it, Buff," Xander said. He was slightly distracted by the man's personal scent- it was something he felt like he knew, but couldn't quite place. Odd.

Buffy smiled shyly at the man- shopkeeper, maybe? "You're sure?"

He smiled back at her. "I'm positive."

The sun had just gone down when Xander started to lead the rugrats he'd been assigned back to the school. The kids were happy, jumping around and crowing about all the candy they'd gotten, and Xander smiled in spite of himself.

Okay, they were cute rugrats.

"Oh, pet, never say that you've got dreams of white-picket fences," Spike's smoky voice said from behind him. Xander whirled and glared at him, unconsciously positioning his body so that he was shielding the kids behind him.

"Trick-or-treating," he said carefully. "It's not voluntary. Spike, what do you want? I thought tonight was the night when you all stayed inside like good vampires."

Spike snorted. "I'm hardly a 'good vampire,' luv," he pointed out. "Besides, I really wanted to get a look at your Halloween costume." He gave Xander a slow, up-and-down look, and Xander could see the heat in his blue eyes. "And I'm really, really glad I did."

Xander shifted uncomfortably. He'd raided the thrift shop for his outfit, and he had to admit, when he'd looked at his reflection earlier, that he looked good. Tight leather pants, heavy black boots, and a very tight black t-shirt that had been cut off just below the chest. He'd unearthed a black dog collar from his basement, bringing back memories of his family's one ill-fated attempt to keep a pet, and had let Buffy mess around with eyeliner. His hair was styled in carefully-mussed waves over his forehead, and combined with the expensive fake fangs he had in his mouth, he knew that he looked damn good. Dangerous, even. Sexy.

Spike apparently agreed, if the look in his eyes was anything to go by. "Vampire, hmmm? Good to know that there's always someone to go for the classics."

"Spike, I have to get the kids back," Xander said, keeping his voice steady with effort.

Spike laughed, throwing his head back. "You're so sweet and respectable," he mocked. "Ah well, I'll just have to find you later. Can't waste the night, eh? Not when you're looking like that, pet."

"Alright, then," Xander said, still carefully. The kids behind him were shifting restlessly, with no idea of what danger they were in. "Later. After all the kids are home safe. It'll be just me and you."

"Just the way I like it, pet," Spike said. "It's a date." He turned to leave.

Xander froze, feeling his heart shudder, and slow, and... stop.

He smiled.

"Spike," he called, and the vampire turned around. He gave him a smile filled with fangs.

Real ones.

"How about we have that date now?"

Willow was worried. Really, really worried. All around her, everyone was turning into their costumes, and if Xander had dressed as a vampire... Bad. Very bad. Excessive badness.

She had to find Buffy.

Buffy, she discovered two minutes later, was no longer Buffy. Instead, she was some helpless, fainting noblewoman, and why, oh why had she encouraged her friend to dress up in a fancy dress? This was a disaster. All around them, demons were ranging the streets, and here they were, without a Slayer. They were even without a pseudo-vampire-good-guy, since Xander was almost certainly a vampire now, and therefore wasn't likely to be willing to help them.

Angel! That's right, Angel could help them. The only problem was, she wasn't exactly sure where he lived. She had his phone number and everything, but she didn't-

Phone number. She could work with that. Buffy's house was nearby, and she could call Angel to come and look after them. As a nice bonus, it would get them off the streets.

If she could just get Buffy to wake up and move...

Xander smirked as Spike gave him a wondering look. "Well," Spike said, almost to himself, "Dru had said that tonight was going to be interesting, but I hadn't quite envisioned this." He glanced behind Xander, and saw a bunch of young demons and one screaming princess. "Costumes, is it? I think I like this."

"The man who sold the costumes, Ethan Rayne? He's a Chaos mage. I wasn't sure what I was smelling on him, but I can recognize it now, somehow. Cloves and blood. Chaos magic."

Spike smiled at him and prowled a couple steps closer. "Well, here's to the Chaos bloke, then," he whispered. "He just made my night."

"Got a nice private place we can take this?" Xander said, almost casually. "Pavement is just so last year."

Spike let out a short bark of laughter. "Can't say as I object to moving this party somewhere else," he said. "Long as we make it fast."

"Oh yeah," Xander said, staring at Spike with weeks of pent-up lust in his eyes. "We're gonna make it fast. But once we get started, we're gonna take it really... really... slow..."

Spike's pupils flared. "Hell yes," he said hoarsely. "Just the way I like it.

Xander grabbed his arm and hauled him into a rough kiss. "Let's get out of here," he whispered into Spike's mouth. "Yesterday."

"Oh yeah," Spike said. "I know just the place."

Willow was getting desperate. Buffy wouldn't wake up, and she couldn't exactly shake her shoulder or slap her or anything, and there was a little band of kid-size demons moving their way. Unless Buffy woke up, now, they were pretty much doomed.

"Willow! Are you okay?"

Her head snapped up. "Angel! Oh god, Angel, it's so good to see you."

Angel whipped his head around to snarl at the pint-size demons, which all made nervous yipping noises and took off. He turned back to Willow, his vampire features fading away, and said, "It's complete chaos out here. What's going on?"

"Everyone turned into their costumes!" Willow said. "It's like some weird nightmare."

Angel gave her an odd look. "And you were going as..."

"A ghost," she said with asperity. When Angel raised on eyebrow, she said, "I had a sheet on, okay? I was a ghost. Now I am a ghost, for real. And Buffy won't wake up."

Angel muttered to himself for a minute, then scooped Buffy up in his arms. "Okay. We're going to her house. You go to Giles, and see if he knows what the hell is going on. Send anyone who's in danger towards her house."

"Got it," Willow said. "And Angel? Xander was dressed as a vampire. What am I supposed to do about him?"

"There's nothing you can do," he said grimly. "We'll just have to hope that he doesn't do any damage while he's out. The most we can do right now is find out how to reverse it, and for that you need to talk to Giles. Go to him, and go fast."

"Okay," she said, and took off, moving much faster without an actual body to tie her down.

"Abandoned building?" Xander said, as Spike pulled him through the door. "Color me unsurprised."

"Is that the came color as 'amazed,' by any chance?" Spike snarked, and shut the door behind them. He immediately turned and grabbed Xander, almost crushing his biceps with the force of his grip. "I've wanted you since I saw you," he said hoarsely. "Whatever you can say about Angelus, I have to admit that he's got good taste."

Xander narrowed his eyes. "Fuck me," he said. "On the floor, against the wall, I don't care. Been waiting way too long now."

Spike hissed, and lifted him to press him against the crumbling wall. "Feels like I've been waiting forever," he gritted out, wrestling with the fastenings on his own and Xander's pants.

""I want you," Xander growled. "Now, tomorrow, pretty much however I can get you. Though I'd prefer it if you'd be inside me right now."

"Working on it, mate," Spike snapped, and gave a sigh of relief when he managed to push both their pants down. "Slick?"

Xander shook his head, so Spike shrugged and morphed to game face, biting neatly into the inside of his own wrist. He let the blood flow down into his hand, then brought his fingers up to roughly press into Xander's opening.

Xander hissed and threw his head back, panting through his fangs, and said, in a voice almost too low to be heard, "More."

Spike grinned, snaking out his tongue to play over the tips of his own fangs, and said, "My pleasure," before pulling Xander over his hips and slamming all the way home.

"Ethan, I know you're in here," Giles said, quite calmly considering the rage that was boiling just under his skin. "You wouldn't pull this stunt, then not hang around to watch and gloat."

"Hello, Ripper," Ethan said. "It's been a long time." Giles said nothing, just stared at him with anger in his eyes, and Ethan shrugged. "What, no hug for your old mate?"

"I should have known it was you," Giles said.

"Yes, you should have," Ethan said. "You know me better than anyone, Ripper old boy."

"I thought I did," Giles said. "But then, people change."

"Do they really?" Ethan said, arching one eyebrow. "I'm not sure they do. Take you, for example."

"Oh, let's not."

"Oh, let's do. You're the Slayer's Watcher now, aren't you? Tweed and dust, books and tea, and all the while they have no idea what you're capable of. It's almost sweet, except... no, it's really not. It's just sad."

"Sad?" Giles glared at him. "What's sad is a man who's more than old enough to know better, wreaking havoc on the Hellmouth because you want attention." Giles spat out the word. "Well, Ethan, you've got my attention now." His fist shot out suddenly, colliding with Ethan's jaw with a sickening crunch. He smiled nastily as Ethan fell, and said, "All the attention you can stand."

This was what Xander had been dreaming about. Cool skin, very slightly flushed with stolen blood, moving against his, and obscenities hissed in his ear in a low Cockney accent while Spike pounded into him, and it hurt just so, just enough to make sparks fly across the blackness of his eyelids. Oh god, just like that, just a little more...

A strangled half-scream erupted from his lips as he came, and Spike moaned against the side of his neck when the clasping of Xander's inner muscles pulled him, too into orgasm. They collapsed into a sticky heap on the floor, panting for breath they didn't need.

"God, pet," Spike said when they could speak again. "If I'd known that you'd give me a ride like that, I wouldn't have waited all these weeks."

Xander lifted his head and smirked at him. "That's sweet," he said. "But won't Drusilla have something to say about it?"

Spike rolled his eyes. "Like that one would even notice, much less mind if I was playing around? 'Sides, why do you care?"

"I don't," Xander said with a shrug. "I was being polite."

"Being a right bastard is more like it," Spike said. "But that's okay. I like a little evil in my man."

"That's so sweet," Xander said, giving a fake simper and fluttering his eyelashes. "I do believe I shall swoon."

Spike snorted. "Better not," he said. "I'm not done with you yet, luv. Nowhere near done."

"Oh really?" Spike thought idly that Xander made a damn good vampire- he even had the evil smirk down, when most new vamps just looked like slightly backwards children with fangs.

"Yeah," Spike said, and leaned down to lightly scrape his teeth over the pulse that Xander didn't have. "Haven't had a chance to taste this, yet."

Xander tilted his head to the side for better access, then moved his head just so; his mouth was near Spike's ear, now, and he whispered, "Just so long as I get to taste you, too," and sunk his fangs into Spike's earlobe.

Spike gave a hiss of pained delight, and bit down.

"Well," Ethan choked out, "Here's one thing that hasn't changed. You're still a right bastard, Ripper."

"Tell me how to break the spell, Ethan," Giles said.

"Or what?"

Giles landed another hard kick on his ribs. "What do you think?"

"I can't believe I missed this," Ethan said, mostly to himself.

"Because you're a pain addict?" Giles suggested. "Always looking for bigger and badder, aren't you? Well, congratulations. You got me." Another kick.

"Break the goddamn statue," Ethan growled. "I'm done with this."

"Oh no, I'm just getting started," Giles said, but he grabbed the statue, and brought it smashing to the ground.

Spike knew something was wrong. Xander had given a choked gasp and pulled away, and now the blood flowing across his tongue was hot with life, pulsed out by the now-beating heart on the man under him.

So he wasn't really that surprised when Xander wrenched his head away from his neck and shoved him violently away. He fell gracelessly onto his bare ass, and watched as Xander scrambled to his feet, one hand pressed to his bleeding neck and the other hitching his leather pants up around his hips.

"Gonna just fuck and run, pet?" Spike said, because he had to say something. Xander glared at him, and fastened his pants as fast as he could, not answering him.

"No hug? No kiss? No 'see you later'?"

Xander glared harder. "I'm leaving," he said harshly.

"What, going to go home and start pretending that this didn't happen?"

"Bet your ass," Xander snapped. "Stay the hell away from me from now on, Spike. I see you, I'm gonna dust you- I don't care what it takes."

Spike just watched him as he walked away. "Would you really, pet?" he said softly when Xander was gone. "I don't think so. You're mine, now, and I'm not the only one who knows it. You'll be seeing me around, luv. Don't think you won't."

"You look like hell," Willow told him bluntly and hour later, when he showed up on her doorstep. Xander gave her a bitter look and went inside, going straight up to her room and ignoring the wide-eyed looks her parents gave him.

She followed him silently into the bathroom, where he started pulling down first-aid supplies. "Everyone's okay, thanks for asking," she said pointedly.

He just shot her a not-remotely-guilty look. "You would have told me first off if they weren't," was all he said, and hissed with pain as he slapped a rag soaked in hydrogen peroxide to the puncture wounds on his neck.

"Of course, you could just wear a hair shirt on your days off," Willow said, giving a wide-eyed glance to the bottle still in his hand. "Xander, that stuff burns."

"No, you think?" he snapped, then caught a glimpse of the hurt expression on her face, and finally, finally, lost some of the bitter expression and looked contrite. "Wills, I'm sorry. It was just... a really bad night."

She looked pointedly at his neck. "I see that."

He shook his head. "Worse than that," he said. When she opened her mouth, he held up a hand. "Which I'm not going to tell you about, so don't even ask. Just accept that it's been a bad enough night that a few more near-death experiences would have made it a pleasant vacation."

"Ouch," she winced. He fumbled, trying to get the bandage in place, and she stepped forward, brushing his hands away to do it for him. "But let me ask this: did it have anything to do with this guy you won't talk about?"

His stillness was answer enough, and she shook her head as she neatly taped the edges of the gauze. "I won't say anything, because you've made it clear that you don't want to talk about it. But I'll tell you this: I understand. A run-in with a vampire and a run-in with your somethingorother, on the same night- not exactly a walk in the park. I get that. I also get the not-wanting-to-talk thing, but I want you to know- I'm always here to listen, if that's what you want. Or to sit in meditative silence, if you want that instead."

He was silent for a minute, and she was worried that she'd said something wrong, screwed everything up somehow, but when he turned his head to look at her he finally cracked a smile. "Can I have a hug?" he said, and she wrapped her arms around him as tight as she could.

They stood like that in silence for a few long minutes, but then he peeled her off and tucked her under his arm, turning towards the mirror. "Look at us," he said with a ghost of his usual grin. "The Slut Twins of Sunnydale."

She laughed. "Yeah, we do kinda have that 'slut' vibe going, don't we?"

"Oh yeah."

"You do look really good," she offered. "Well, the bandage kind of ruins it, but I mean... before. You looked great."

"You still look great," he said. "Not a look I'm used to seeing on my Wills, I grant you, but great. Sexy."

She hugged him again, just because she could. "You too," she said. "Definitely, you too."

"Yeah," he said, staring at his image in the mirror, his expression haunted. "Yeah, I got that a lot tonight."

She looked up at him, but he just shook his head. "It's nothing," he said. "Look, I gotta get home, okay?"

She nodded mutely, and he gave her a hug before leaving the bathroom and bounding down the steps. She watched him from her bedroom window, and didn't miss the defeated set of his head, or the defensive slump of his shoulders that he hadn't had since... well, since he'd gotten a dose of Angel's blood and became super-Xander.

She reached for the phone, about to call Buffy, but stopped with her hand just over the receiver, wracked with indecision. Usually she and Buffy told each other everything, but... Well, Buffy had Angel there, and she could always tell Buffy the next day at school.

She knew she wouldn't, though. She was really worried about Xander, but this was something he had to work out on his own, and Buffy wasn't exactly known for thinking before rushing into a situation. She'd try to hunt down this guy on her own, and then she'd beat him up, and things would just be that much worse for Xander.

So she'd wait. And watch. Maybe Xander would work things out with his somethingorother, or maybe he wouldn't. Either way, she'd be there to pick up the pieces when it all fell apart.