"X-Xander, did you notice that there was a demon serving as bailiff in broad daylight?" Giles asked. Doyle interrupted them with the info.
"Ah, that's just Clem," the Brisco-dressed man told them, "He's a generally nonviolent sort, he's been hanging out Friday nights at the bowling alley or plays poker in Willy's back room."
"He has a mean hook shot, too, and likes Star Trek far too much," Xander added. Giles and Doyle stared at him questioningly, "He actually wears a uniform and everything when watching the marathons; or so he's told me."
"X-Xander, you hang out with demons, now?" Giles asked uncertainly.
"Just recently, and none that come anywhere near what you hung out with in your college days, Ripper, so don't get too Watchery with me," the young man grimaced, "And as you can see he's managed to get a socially acceptable job contributing to the betterment of society, right?"
"Well, er, I suppose so," Giles responded, "Thank you for reminding me things are grayer than I usually let Buffy believe."
"Why is that Mr. Giles?" Doyle asked, "Last night, I know she wasn't at her best, but…"
"Well from past diaries, it seems slayers are geared toward seeing things in black or white, good or evil. It really…frustrates them to not be able to categorize something as friend or foe."
"Hmm, more insight into our favorite slayer," Xander smiled, "Always helpful."
Later That Afternoon
"So Doyle, that loop was short but sweet," Xander asked, "Do we still want to stay on a cowboy theme?"
"At least one more time," the Irishman said, "Brisco sharpened my thinking a bit, and the guns and getting a little more into shape was good. And I can now appreciate you telling me how sometimes the aches follow you as well. Brisco may have been used to horse riding, but my thighs are a bit sore."
"Okay, next round you get your poker player, and Dawn and I'll have fun but remain practical enough. The Lone Ranger was fun, but there's a movie I've watched a few times that nobody seemed to go to when it came out. Maybe that'll do…we'll see.
Xander avoided Larry, not in the mood to smack the jerk around again just yet, and picked up his group of kids. Doyle and Dawn decided to drive around and take notes on the pre-Ethan situation for later reference before planning to rendezvous after parking the car near the costume shop.
"Hey, Mister," one of the kids asked, "you gonna carry around the saddle all night?"
"Well I reckon I might," Xander returned in a passable-enough Tom Selleck imitation, "It's part of the costume." The kids rolled their eyes, but were very attentive when he explained the keys to maximum candy procurement. His candy mission was successful, as he led the kids to skip the crappy houses in favor of the best, they hit a few extra houses and got back ten minutes early.
Going out toward the street to await his two companions, he set the horse statue on the ground, and held the note to himself he'd written earlier, with a bag of fake gold coins, 'Please go to Ethan's costume shop and shoot the statue in the backroom with glowing eyes.' "Well, that and a map should be enough to keep it short."
"Well you didn't have to dress up if you didn't want to Xan," Dawn sighed, shaking her head as they and Doyle met up.
"No Dawn, it's just that I have an odd feeling about tonight," Xander replied, "And the last time I felt it was when I went as Audie Murphy and Dru attacked.
"Well, I think we'd better start heading back to the Library first then," Doyle responded, looking at his watch, "It already looks like Ethan's running a few minutes over…" And the magic swept over Sunnydale.
A moment earlier, Ethan's Costume Shoppe
""Well pet, it only cost us four minions," Spike sighed as his Dru went on about her new 'country' clothes for her 'cowboy.' Spike had refused to dress up with her, the embarrassment was already too great as it was, and had ordered his minions to meet him near the slayer's house in an hour, "Now that it's properly dark, we'll leave now and get us a bite to eat. Now why is it we can't kill the shopkeeper?"
"Because the Slayer will be weak tonight if we let him live," she crooned, "And I'll find my 'pardner.'" She did, however, manage to get him to put on a Victorian-era coat and hat such as he'd worn when she'd first met William over a century ago.
'And I'll just take these off slowly over the next few traffic lights…' he smirked to himself.
Their car just made it down the street a couple of blocks as the magic swept over them…
…and the car crashed into a streetlight as the nausea and pain wracked the vampiric bodies, altering and taking control. A few minutes passed, then the woman, wavy hair in her eyes, moaned and woke up, her Texas accent strong and clear as she fell out of the car and into the street. There was a voice shouting in the back of her head, then it was sient as she stumbled down the avenue, "Roy?"
During those same minutes, three folks recovered from whatever it was that brought them…here. Annie looked over at her two apparent companions, both attractive, dark-haired men, one a little older and prettier in his dress to the younger man's stronger and rougher-hewn physique, 'If I get a hold of the bartender that slipped that happy juice…I'll buy the barrel of it off him…' she smiled to herself…from her hands, a much younger self.
"Don't take this the wrong way folks," the better-dressed man asked in a James-Garnerish manner, "But how'd I get here and who are you people."
The other man saddled the large horse next to him as he replied.
"I don't rightly know, mister, I was rather hopin' you or the young lady here might answer those same questions," he replied as he then checked his rifle and holstered it on the saddlery. Placing bridle on the animal, he turned back and continued, "But my name's Quigley, Jonathan Quigley."
"The target-shooting champion from Montana way?" the girl responded, checking him out with her eyes, "I'd wondered if I'd ever run into you. I'm Annie Oakley." They both turned back to the first man expectantly.
"Oh, I'm sorry," he replied with a bit of abashment, "My name is Brett Maverick. I'm not from around here either. I remember heading to sleep in St. Louis, and suddenly I'm here…" The others nodded and grimaced to show similar experience. The man who'd saddled the horse took a look at some papers sticking out of his pocket, and read them aloud.
"And I seem to have a map," he indicated by waving it, "Think maybe we should follow the instructions?"
"Even though it's probably a trap, I guess we should," Maverick replied with a sigh, "Lucklily we all know how to take care of ourselves. Okay, we seem to be near a big school, just like on the map, so we want to head that way first, then take a right." They slowly made their way toward the indicated shop.
Five or so minutes later, they heard a scream, and then watched as a red-head in scanty attire shouted "Buffy" and threw rocks as soime short monstery things. Quigley jumped on his orse and raced over, drawing his weapon to fire when the red-head called out, "No! Their actually children possessed by something!" Sighing, and trusting the girl might actually know what was going on, he simply interposed his horse between the attackers and the two girls and kicked out at the little fiends until Annie and Maverick pulled the two women away from the fight. Firing a shot above the heads of the monsters, Quigley scared them off for now.
"Xander! Dawn! Everybody seems possessed by their costumes!" Willow shouted on the verge of hyperventilation, "And Buffy seems totally out of it." She looked at the three of them, "And I'm guessing you're not my friends any more now either, are you?"
"Sorry, miss, probably not," Maverick smiled, "But we do seem to have been left a note and a map for ending this strangeness, perhaps it make more sense to you?" He gestured for Quigley, who was now dismounting and smiling as Buffy latched herself onto Maverick, to hand her the papers.
Willow read through them, realizing that a spell was the cause, Ethan the caster, and the statue was the means of ending it. Realizing that they were closer to the costume shop than the school at this point, she decided they should try to end it themselves, "Let's go end this before more kids get hurt or killed."
William Ragsdale had a killer headache. Stumbling out of the strange contraption, William sobbed at the dismissal of his love by Cecily, and only gathered some semblance of control as he remembered meeting a pale beauty who seemed genuinely interested in him, but little else. The town he found himself in was unlike any in his short life, though it reflected an orderliness many places lacked. He was tired, and he considered it in his best interest to find a watchman or constable so as best to determine a course of action. 'If only I could remember what happened after Drusilla asked me in…'
"Roy!" a dark-haired woman cried out as she lunged at Quigley, "You're safe! I knew you'd come back for me. I knew it!" He looked at his companions, shrugged, and turned back to the woman.
"Cora?" he asked, looking at her incredulously, "Is that really you?"
"Yeah, Roy," she replied, "Who else would it be?" He looked at his companions and shrugged again. They continued on their way.
They approached the costume shop, meeting up with a brownish-haired man in an odd clothing combination. He looked at Cora and with recognition addressed her.
"Drusilla, there you are!" William Ragsdale called out, "I thought I was losing my mind when I found myself here, allow me to assure you of that fact." He would have continued, but Willow recognized the man as the vampire named Spike, 'And if he knows her…'
"I don't know who ya are, but I'm here with Roy," Cora/Drusilla explained, "And I'm sure we haven't met." William looked shocked and distraught as the woman he knew dismissed him in almost the same way as had Cecily. He turned and walked off.
Entering the shop, the noblewoman Buffy complained about improper respect for property, and something about the watch getting them for this. Ignoring her, Roy and Brett preceded the others into the store, Annie following at the rear in case of ambush. No one seemed to be in the front room, so they pointed at Willow and Buffy to stay near the door as the three gun-wielders would head into the next room. They drew revolvers and stepped through the curtain, Maverick taking a blow to the head from the proprietor, presumably Ethan, which allowed Quigley to strike the mage in the forehead quite hard with the butt of his revolver, rendering him immediately unconscious and on the floor. Annie simply fired to rounds at the statue, blasting out the glowing eyes an instant before the rest of the Janus totem shattered into pieces. As the spell lifted, a screaming and moaning broke the silence, drawing Dawn and Xander in time to watch Drusilla screamed and writhed on the floor before imploding into dust.
The door to the shop had been left unsecured, and in the doorway collapsed William Ragsdale, his corpse thumping to the ground after he moaned Drusilla's name one last time…
A minute passed. Xander crept over to the body.
"He's dead, but the body is barely warm," Xander said, backing away in confusion, "Somehow the spell brought him back into himself, as himself, and now he's a dead human."
"That's unexpected," Doyle moaned, holding his head as Dawn helped him into the front room, "I wonder if we could call it a night? Maybe get some food somewhere?" He watched as Xander cleared out the register and cashbox. Buffy and Willow were still unsure of what was worse, that the events had unfolded as they had, or that Dawn, Xander and this Doyle guy were taking this in stride as though they did this all the time. Dawn headed it off.
"Let's go tell Giles about the vampires thing," she said, "Then go out to eat, and maybe look up gun ranges for some practice tomorrow."