A/N: I decided to take a little angst break this week and do something a little sillier, although there are definitely some plot points thrown in. But don't worry, the angstiness shall return. I hope you enjoy. Reviews are very much appreciated. They keep me on my toes and feed the greedy muse :-)
The chapter title is an Eddie Money song from the album of the same name (1983). Thanks to my beta, isugirl.
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Chapter 11 - Where's the Party?
"So good of you to drop by," Crowley greeted sarcastically when he looked up from the male wraith he'd been interrogating to see a leather-clad brunette strolling into the room. "Faith is it? It seems you've been spending quite a lot of time in that skin," he remarked.
"I like it," the girl shrugged, "she has style."
"Yes, quite the tart, that one."
She didn't reply, but instead gazed down in distress at the mutilated body of the wraith that lay bound and gagged on Crowley's table. Unfortunately for him, he was still alive.
"Oh, I wouldn't worry about him," the demon remarked with a dismissive wave of his hand. "As long as you keep to our arrangement, neither you nor your darling sibling need worry about such unpleasant things."
"Can I see her?" she asked hopefully.
"Of course," he agreed cheerfully. "After all, I pride myself on being a gracious host."
Crowley led the girl through a room filled with rows of cages holding various creatures, some of whom were in better shape than others. He paused halfway down the row and held out a hand to indicate their arrival.
The shapeshifter version of Faith that was in the cage cried in relief at the site of her twin. They clutched at one another through the bars, attempting to assure themselves that the other was well.
"See, I keep my word," Crowley remarked to the girl beside him. "Your sister's safe, sound, and warm as a fuzzy little kitten. I can't very well mistreat her if you're to be up to the job, after all. You're too connected to each other's pain."
The shifter didn't seem to hear what the demon was saying. Instead, she was focused on stroking her sister's hair and quietly reassuring her that they would both be okay.
Crowley cleared his throat. "As heartwarming as this reunion is, I'm afraid I must insist that you make your report. I'm a busy man."
Shapeshifter-Faith reluctantly turned to face the demon, but continued to hold her sister's hand through the bars. "I'm not sure what to tell ya," she replied hesitantly.
The demon rolled his eyes and sighed impatiently. "Why don't we start with darling Fluffy? What's the little bint been up to?"
"She had a fight with her boyfriend," the shifter shrugged. "He moved out for a week or two. Rumor was he went to Vegas and married Britney Spears, but she divorced him after like a day and he went back to Buffy after that."
"Really?" Crowley said dryly.
"Yeah," the girl nodded. "I don't believe that part though. If he'd really married Britney, it would be all over the TV."
"You think so?" the demon asked sarcastically. "For your sake, I hope you have something more revealing to share. Like, for instance, what's on the Slayer radar these days?"
The shifter chewed on her lip in worry before answering. "It's hard to tell," she began. "I can't get inside their headquarters, no matter who I look like. They've got some really heavy-duty mojo on that place. The best I can do is catch one or two of 'em when they're out patrollin' the streets at night."
"It's like pulling teeth," Crowley grumbled to himself. "What about the dreams?" he asked slowly, enunciating each word.
"They aren't having any dreams. None at all. It's kind of a big deal. They're all suspicious and stuff."
"Well, well, well, it appears Castiel can still get it up. Here I've been thinking he was the bottom of this relationship," he quipped before returning his attention back to the shifter. "So, the Slayers are suspicious are they? Tell me, what are they suspicious of?" Once again, he spoke like he was addressing someone who was extremely slow.
Shapeshifter-Faith averted her gaze to the concrete floor below her.
"I'm waiting," Crowley said impatiently.
"They think it's Mother," she replied reluctantly. "She's raised a wicked big army on the Hellmouth and they've been givin' the Slayers a bitch of a time… So, they're pretty sure she's behind everything that's goin' on around there."
The demon let out a short, self-satisfied laugh. "Excellent. I'm sure your dear mum would be delighted to know that she's been so helpful to my cause. I'd like to speak with her… thank her personally," he added menacingly. "You will let me know if the Slayers catch any real leads in that regard."
The shifter raised her chin and glared at Crowley. "I'm not betrayin' Mother," she snapped defiantly.
Crowley smiled benignly and reached through the bars to gently caress the cheek of the imprisoned shifter. "I can't force you, of course," he said genially. "Then again, you have to ask yourself who's more important. A mythological mother figure who you've never seen or your sweet sister here?" As he said the last part, he wrapped his hand in the girl's hair and wrenched her neck back cruelly.
"Okay, okay," the shifter standing beside him pleaded. "I'll do it. Just please don't hurt her."
The demon released his hold on the other girl. "I'm glad we can agree," he nodded as he casually dropped the chunk of hair he'd pulled loose. "Now tell me. What goes on in the brain of saucy, little Faith? I know you've been in that slut's skin long enough to work your psychic download. I can tell by that appalling accent you've picked up."
The shifter looked a bit sheepish. "Umm…" she began hesitantly. "She mostly thinks about this guy."
"More boyfriend troubles?" he bit out. He was beginning to get very irritated with this line of conversation.
"He's not exactly her boyfriend. She kinda wants him to be, but – ya know - she has these major intimacy issues. She mostly likes to stick to a sex only policy, but he's not playin' ball."
At Crowley's sour expression, Shapeshifter-Faith continued on hurriedly. "Honestly, I don't see why you're so worried about these chicks. All they think about is sex and man troubles. It's like Melrose Place with monsters."
"I'll tell you what to worry about you bloody little moron," he growled. "You'd be surprised how troublesome humans can be, especially the more daft ones. That sort doesn't have the sense to mind their own affairs."
"So, what do you want me to do?" she asked timidly.
"That's a good girl," he praised with a satisfied smirk. "What I want you to do is continue spying. If they start talking about black-eyed demons, possession, or anything else that might point to little old me - you tell me immediately. If they get any leads on your mummy, you tell me immediately. If they come up with any interesting theories that don't involve their fascinating sex lives, you tell me immediately. And I realize you've grown attached to that skin, but you're going to have to mix it up a bit. What I really want is the inner workings of Muffy's brain."
"I have to get close to her first," the shifter explained. "I'm not as powerful as my father was. I can't just change into anyone I've laid eyes on. I need to touch 'em. She's not been so easy to find these days," she added apologetically.
"Then look harder," Crowley demanded. "And while you're at it, have a bit of a laugh. Remember, these bitches are out for Mommy's blood. I, on the other hand, only fancy a nice chat. If she's reasonable, we may even be able to come to a mutually beneficial arrangement. So, create a little chaos if you get the chance. Use your imagination. You could even kill a few of them or you could kill their boy toys. That ought to knock them off their game. But don't show your hand," he warned. "Information is what I'm after. So, if you're going to snuff them, be certain you don't get caught. This is all just a shell game… some simple sleight of hand. I want them to keep their eyes on the worthless, little ball and completely ignore the man behind the curtain. Do you follow?"
"Yeah," she confirmed. "You want me to keep 'em busy… distracted."
"Very good," he replied with a smile. "Maybe you're not quite as thick as you look."
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"What do you think you're doing?" Buffy asked when she saw Dean sitting on the couch reading the newspaper with three open bags of candy in front of him.
"What does it look like I'm doing?" he mumbled through a mouthful of Snickers bar.
"It looks like you're taking candy from babies," she replied as she snatched the bags away and directed a frown at the pile of empty wrappers lying on the coffee table. "You better hope there's enough left for the kids," she warned.
"Oh come on! I can't believe we're actually going through with this crap. I know civilians are pretty dense, but they can't be that stupid. They're really gonna take their kids out on Halloween night… here… on the Hellmouth? And you're encouraging this freak show by giving them candy? Seriously?"
"We've been over this," Buffy replied cheerfully. "The less savory Hellmouth residents take Halloween night off, so we're having a party and giving out candy. And you're getting the beer, because I have no idea what to get. It all tastes gross to me."
Dean sighed in defeat. "So how much beer should I buy?" he asked. "Who's coming?"
Buffy sat down beside him and paused thoughtfully before beginning to tick off names on her fingers. "Faith's coming. Xander and Allie will be here too, but no beer for Allie… Your brother, of course… and Megan from next door might drop by with her boyfriend. I asked Giles, but he said he was probably going home and going to bed. Oh," she said excitedly, "Will's bringing a date. She's only been out with this girl twice and she doesn't know what we do yet, so we have to pretend we're normal," she frowned. "We'll need cover stories in case she starts asking questions. I'm a teacher at a girl's school. What do you want to be?"
Dean shrugged. "I don't know. I suppose I can be a construction worker."
"No, that's Xander's cover."
"Well I refuse to be any of the other Village People," he grumbled. "I'll be a mechanic, I guess. So, who else is coming? What about -"
"Andrew's not coming," Buffy replied with a smirk before he could finish asking. "He's going to hang out at the school with Vi and Rona. They're entertaining the girls. Why do you let him get to you anyway?" she asked.
"Because he treats me like an object. You have no idea what that's like," he stressed.
Buffy grinned and shook her head. "You're right. I'll never understand your pain. Now stop being so grumpy," she ordered with a kiss to his cheek. "We're going to have big, wholesome, non-Hellmouthy fun tonight."
"Hey, I'm always up for some beer, but there's no way I'm wearing a costume. You can forget it, because it's not gonna happen," Dean emphasized.
"Fine, be a party pooper. See if I care. You'll just be a sad and lonely outcast. All the townsfolk will point and laugh at you and your strange clothing."
"Whatever," he shrugged. "And I still don't buy this 'evil takes a night off' crap. Fifty bucks says somethin' freaky goes down."
"You're on," Buffy said. "But when I win, I don't want the money. I want you to take me to the movies. Any movie I choose. I'm thinking a romantic comedy or one of those where the girl is dying and the selfish guy learns all about true love just before she croaks… or an ice skating movie,"she added in excitement. "And there will be no mocking. You have to pretend to enjoy it. I may even require a few tears."
Dean snorted. "You mean you want to go to a chick flick? Good thing I'm not losing then," he grinned.
"We'll just see about that," she replied confidently. "So," she said, pointing to the newspaper in his hand, "What are you reading the paper for anyway? There's never any good news."
"I'm hunting," he said simply
"No offense honey, but you don't really have to do that. We can pretty much walk out the front door and run right into something that needs killing. Homework is optional here. It's the beauty of the Hellmouth."
"Yeah, but you miss stuff that way," Dean replied with a cocky smirk as he flipped his fingers on an article in the paper. "Check this out."
"Veteran Cleveland Philharmonic Flutist Missing," Buffy read aloud. "Is that supposed to mean something?"
"Not really. But last week they lost their cello player and the week before that, this dude that plays fiddle for a traveling Bluegrass band just up and vanished into thin air. It looks like something's putting a band together."
"I know this one," Buffy exclaimed. "Eve wants her very own super-villain theme music."
Dean grinned. "Who knows? But I guarantee it's somethin' funky. Don't forget, you're talking to the world's greatest hunter."
"And the world's humblest."
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Buffy paused before opening the bathroom door. She felt a little silly in her costume to be honest. She knew Dean loved westerns, so she'd decided to dress as an authentic, wild west, saloon girl. The girl at the costume shop had talked her into the emerald green and white dress she was wearing. It was a little overdone if you asked her, but she guessed that was the way they did it in those days. It had lots of lace, a tight, corseted waist, and a really low-cut bodice. The dress was nearly floor length, but it was slit high up on her left thigh and she wore a frilly garter on that leg. She'd put her hair in a loose up-do with lots of tight spirals hanging down. She decided she looked like the old timey equivalent of a hooker.
"Are you ready?" Buffy finally asked from behind the closed door.
"Ready as I'll ever be," Dean replied with amusement in his voice. This whole Halloween thing was so ridiculous. If Buffy came out of that bathroom dressed as a ghost or something cheesy like that, he was going to lose it. He'd probably get his ass kicked for it, but he wouldn't be able to control himself.
"Okay then, close your eyes and don't open them until I say."
Dean shook his head and grumbled before closing his eyes as requested. "They're closed," he said.
Buffy stepped cautiously into the hall and stepped in front of Dean. "Open your eyes," she said hesitantly.
With a smirk firmly in place, he opened his eyes, prepared to laugh his ass off.
"Holy shit," he breathed with wide eyes. "That's freakin' sexy as hell!"
"So, you like?" she asked with a happy smile.
"Yes ma'am," he answered enthusiastically.
"I'm supposed to be a saloon girl. I think that's fancy, wild west talk for a woman of ill repute."
"That's my favorite kind," Dean grinned. He pressed her against the wall and started kissing her as he ran his hand inside the slit in her skirt.
"We can't," Buffy said breathlessly. "Everybody will be getting here soon and you have no idea how long it took me to get into this dress. If I take it off now, I'll never make it to the party and that would be kinda bad since I live here."
"Oh, I don't want you take it off. I'll just throw up your skirts," he said with a wink. "I'm pretty sure that's how they did it back then. I'm all about authenticity baby."
"You're kinda kinky," she said with a grin.
"You have no idea," he assured her as he reached further up her skirt, only to have his progress halted by the doorbell. "Son of a bitch," he grumbled.
"Sorry cowboy," Buffy said sympathetically before pressing a quick kiss on his lips. "Looks like you'll have to wait until the saloon closes, because our guests are arriving. Will you get the door?" she asked. "I want to put a few finishing touches on my makeup."
"Yeah," he griped. "I know who it is anyway. It has to be Sam. He's the only one lame enough to show up on time."
Dean was surprised when he opened the door to see Xander and Allie instead of his brother. Allie wore a blue dress, had her hair in pigtails, and was carrying a stuffed, toy dog. She was obviously Dorothy from The Wizard of Oz. Xander was wearing camouflage pants and an olive green T with the words 'Army Ranger' stamped across his chest.
"Let me guess," Xander said. "You're the amazing flannel-guy."
Dean smirked and stood back to let the couple enter. "I don't do costumes," he said.
Before he shut the door, he saw his brother coming up the walkway. He'd almost been right about Sam being the first to arrive.
"Hey look!" Xander exclaimed. "It's the amazing flannel-guy's brother… the other flannel-guy. I can't believe you two are leaving me out in the cold. Please tell me Buffy has a costume."
"Oh yeah," Dean confirmed with a grin.
Once they'd taken a seat, Xander looked around cautiously before asking, "Where is the Buffster anyway?"
"Upstairs," Dean replied. "She should be down in a minute."
Xander leaned forward in his seat and spoke almost in a whisper. "I'm going to tell you guys something, but if you repeat it, I'll act like I've never met you. I swear man. I will throw you under the bus."
"Okay," Sam replied with an amused grin.
Xander looked around once again to confirm the coast was clear before speaking. "I just wanted to let you in on a little secret. This Halloween is evil free theory - it's a big bunch of hooey. Something always happens. It's usually a little out of the ordinary and a lot of times caused by a person working a spell or something, but don't be fooled. It's never the peaceful evening it's advertised to be."
"That's not true," Allie scoffed. "Nothing weird happened last year."
"That was just a freaky outlier," Xander replied. "The proverbial exception that proves the rule. It doesn't count."
"So, what should we look out for?" Dean asked.
"That's the problem. You never know till it happens. One year we all got turned into our costumes, which is why I'm army guy. But this time," he said as he pointed to his t-shirt, "I've given myself a promotion. Special Forces, baby. I'll pick up some mad skills. I just hope flannel-guy has some special powers too."
Dean lifted up his shirt to reveal a large knife sheath that was hooked to his belt.
"What about you?" Xander asked Sam.
"I've got one too," Sam confirmed. "Plus I've got a wooden stake. It's not a good idea to walk around here without one."
"Okay then," Xander nodded. "We might make it through the night. Just remember, you have to pretend like nothing's going to happen. Buffy and Willow have an irrational belief in the sanctity of Halloween. Trust me, they'll get all cranky if you contradict them. Even Giles is in on it and he's usually logic-guy. You don't know how dangerous that type of radical believer can be. So, don't cross them. Just be quiet and be ready."
"We're always ready," Dean stated nonchalantly. "Hunters are the most paranoid people outside of your average loony bin. Actually," he shrugged, "I know at least one that is in a loony bin. So, we're cool. We've got paranoia covered."
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Faith had decided that she really wanted to see Sam. She hadn't talked to him since he'd laid that crazy story on her and that had been several days ago. She still wasn't sure how she felt about this 'real relationship' thing he'd mentioned though. That massively freaked her out, but she still had an overwhelming desire just to see him. Plus, she really wanted to blow his mind with her costume.
She'd wanted to be something sexy. In that pursuit, she'd considered and discarded the French maid, the lady pirate, and the naughty nurse costumes. She hated dresses and skirts. The biker babe outfit had been cool, but it was too much like her usual style. She wanted something different from what she usually wore, something that would stand out. It was Halloween after all.
So, after tons of angst and many wardrobe changes, she'd finally settled on one of the pinup girl costumes. It was what she considered to be a one-piece, short shorts set, however, the lady at the costume shop said it was what passed for a swimsuit back in the day. Who knew? Anyway, at least it wasn't a skirt. It was black and white polka dots, however, and that was so not her style. She also had on red high heels and her hair was kind of big and done up in huge waves. The only thing she was comfortable with was the bright red lipstick. She was on the verge of changing into her standard leather uniform when Willow arrived to give her a ride. She considered hiding and pretending she wasn't there, but decided that would be pretty rude, especially since she knew Willow had brought a date and probably hadn't been looking for a tagalong anyway.
So, she put on her longest leather jacket and answered the door to her hotel suite. Willow waved happily at her when she opened the door. The redhead was wearing a bee suit with black letters attached randomly to the front and back.
"I'm a spelling bee," she announced. "What are you?"
Faith sighed and opened up her jacket so Willow could see her costume.
"Wow, Faith that's… Wow! I hardly recognize you."
Faith groaned. "I know. It's stupid. If you'll give me five, I'll go change."
"Why?" Willow asked. "You look great! You should totally go with it. You're not supposed to look like you on Halloween. That's the whole point. Besides, you're a total bombshell, like one of those old World War II pinup girls. I'm sure all the troops will be salutin'," she added and then blushed when she realized how that statement could be interpreted. "I didn't mean… well, you know…"
"Ya think?" Faith asked hopefully.
"If that's what you're goin' for," Willow confirmed.
"So I don't look like a big, sissy loser?"
"Nope. No sissies and losers here. Just strong and sexy."
Faith beamed a huge smile at Willow. "Very cool."
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On the ride over, it took Faith about five minutes to decide she didn't like the chick Willow had brought. She was a know-it-all who liked to go on and on about crap like positive energies and organic foods in a really superior way. She clearly had no idea what the hell she was talking about. Hopefully, Willow wouldn't keep her around for long, because she made her nauseous.
When they arrived, Faith could feel her pulse pounding in her throat. Sam was already there and sitting on the couch beside his brother. He looked a little embarrassed to see her, probably because of their last meeting. In fact, his cheeks were actually a little flushed. She took a deep breath and pulled off her coat and passed it to Buffy, who gasped and told her how sexy she looked. Faith thanked her casually and forced herself to hold her shoulders back and pretend that she wasn't at all self-conscious. She took a peek at Sam out of the corner of her eye and he appeared to be highly focused on her, so that was a confidence booster.
"Check it out Sammy," Dean said with a sharp elbow to his brother's side. "She's pullin' out all the stops this time. I think she wants to take advantage of you dude. You better watch yourself."
"Damn her," Sam said under his breath. Faith seemed determined not to make things easy for him.
Dean shook his head at his brother. "What's wrong with you? Don't tell me you're saving it for marriage."
"Shut up, Dean," he replied tightly.
"Suit yourself," his brother replied.
Sam jumped up from his seat and offered the couch to Willow and her date. He then stood uncertainly in the middle of the living room floor trying to decide what the hell to do with himself. He finally sunk into the recliner and pretended to be studiously reading the label on his beer bottle. He was startled when he realized Faith had snuck up beside him and perched herself on the arm of the couch.
"So how's the plan for world domination goin'?" she asked.
Sam stared back curiously at her for a second as if he was trying to gauge her mood. He finally smiled.
"Still trying to work the kinks out," he replied with a short, self-conscious laugh.
Faith grinned back at him and winked. "Let me know when you do," she said. "I want in."
"You're signing on to be a minion?" he asked with a curiously raised brow. Man, her legs looked good.
"Hell no. I plan on stabbing you in the back and stealin' all the glory for myself. I'm the type of evil genius that likes to let other people do all the homework."
Sam smiled and shook his head in disbelief. He really hadn't expected Faith to ever want to talk to him again, much less joke around about that kind of thing.
"Thanks for the heads up," he replied.
Faith returned his smile. Sam had such a great smile. That was something she really liked in a man, even though most people would probably never believe that something like that was even on her radar.
Dean quirked an amused eyebrow at his younger brother and then vacated the couch himself. He had no idea what to say to Willow and that chick she'd brought with her, so he decided to play the host. It would make Buffy happy and give him something to do besides trying to make awkward conversation.
"So you ladies want a beer?" he asked the couple.
"Why not," Willow replied cheerfully. "It's a holiday. What about you?" she asked the other girl, who she'd recently introduced as Karma.
"Do you have anything organic?" Karma asked.
Dean paused for a moment and glanced down at the bottle of PBR he was holding. Was there even such a thing as organic beer?
"You know what," he said, putting on his con-man smile. "I sure do. I don't have a lot of it, because it's really expensive microbrew, but I'll be happy to pull some of my private stash out for you. I'm all about keeping the guests happy."
Willow groaned internally. What the hell was he trying to pull?
When Dean returned with both a bottle and a mug of beer, Willow immediately knew what he'd done. He'd poured PBR into a mug and was going to try and pass it off as some fancy microbrew. Surely Karma wasn't dumb enough to fall for it.
Willow's date accepted the mug and thanked Dean before taking a sip. "It's wonderful," she said with a sigh. "I can always tell the difference between organic microbrew and the mass-produced beers."
Dean managed to keep a straight face as he agreed that there was simply no substitution. Willow was just blown away.
"Uh, excuse me for a minute," she said. "I should see if Buffy needs a hand in the kitchen.
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"Need some help?" Willow asked as she approached the stove where Buffy was working on making some popcorn.
"I've got it covered," she replied. "But you can keep me company while I wait for the popping. I require constant entertainment."
"I got a pretty entertaining apology from your boyfriend yesterday," Willow replied. "He said, 'Hey Willow, sorry I was such a douche nozzle'."
"I'm sorry Will," Buffy groaned. "I guess that's probably the grossest apology since… well, pretty much ever. But on the positive side, he did it on his own. I didn't tell him to. I mean, I wanted him to, but I didn't think it would mean much if I forced him."
"It's okay," she replied with a small smile. "Horribly disgusting and inappropriate or not, it was an apology. So, I'm going to be optimistic and see this as a turning point in our relationship. I predict that any day now, Dean will wake up and think 'wow, that Willow is one super cool girl'."
"He should," Buffy agreed with a nod, "because you are. You're the very best Willow there is. But if he does get smart again," she added sternly, "you better let me know, because the offer to break all of his bones still stands. I love him, but I won't let him be a big meanie."
Willow grinned and nudged her friend playfully. "Oh, so we're pulling out the big four-letter word now?"
"Shhh," she warned sharply. "It's the big, secret, four-letter word. He has to say it first."
"Gotcha," Willow nodded. "Consider these lips sealed." She paused for a moment and then asked quietly, "So, what do you think of Karma?"
"She's pretty," Buffy remarked. "She's supposed to be dressed as a gypsy I guess?"
"Actually no," Willow frowned. "She always dresses like that. She's real new age-y, but I haven't figured out if she's for real or just a wannabe. I'm starting to lean toward the wannabe," she admitted reluctantly. "She likes to talk about witchcraft and stuff, but I'm afraid she's the type that might flip if she actually saw any real magic. It's so hard to find a genuine person these days," she pouted.
"Yep," Buffy agreed sympathetically. "Us genuine weirdos are in short supply."
"You said it," Willow replied. She munched on a nearby bowl of chips for a moment as she watched Buffy pour the popped kernels into a large bowl. As she did so, the light caught on her charm bracelet.
"Ooh!" Willow exclaimed excitedly. "I didn't notice that one before," she said as she pointed to one of the dangling charms.
"Oh yeah," Buffy said as she gazed down at the charm her friend was pointing to. "I'm not sure what it means. I mean, obviously, its three moons, but I'm not sure why that's significant or what it's supposed to protect me from. Do you know?"
"Well, that one's not really a protection charm," Willow explained. "It's more of a symbol. It represents The Goddess. Whoever owned this bracelet before you must have been a fan."
"What Goddess?" Buffy asked curiously.
"Some people call her the Great Goddess or the Triple Moon Goddess. She's a big cheese in Wicca, but she's also important in a bunch of other neo-pagan religions too."
"Is she good?"
"Yes and no. Technically, she's neither good or bad. Basically, she just represents the natural order – the maiden, the mother, and the crone. Look," Willow said as she lifted Buffy's wrist and pointed to the charm. "This first moon is the waxing moon, it represents the virgin. She's the new and the pure and all that good stuff. It's the beginning of the cycle. The full moon in the middle represents life and obviously motherhood, because see – big, round baby-bump. The last one is the waning moon. It represents the crone, who's usually frowned upon. She stands for endings and death, but on the other hand she also means wisdom and even magic. Crones are depicted as ugly, mean, old witches in folklore, so they get a really bad rap, but if you look at it objectively, she's just the ending of a natural cycle," she shrugged. "It always starts over again. Just like the lunar cycle. Anyway, lots of folks believe that she's always been around and that she's gone by many different names all over the world. You could call her the original holy trinity." Willow paused for a breath before continuing, she was obviously excited about the topic. "Sometimes she's represented by three goddesses and other times there's just one that embodies the properties of the three, but it's the same concept. For example, the Greeks had three - Kore, Persephone, and Hecate. But the Hindus only have the one. They call her Shakta. Sorry for the ramble," she added self-consciously. "I get a little carried away about that sorta thing."
"No, it's actually really interesting," Buffy said seriously. "There's something familiar about all of that. It seems like I've seen this symbol before."
"I have a t-shirt," Willow offered.
"That might be it," she replied.
"Probably," Willow agreed. "Well, guess I better get back to the party before Dean starts feeding Karma organic, fair-trade Cheetos."
"Huh?"
Willow just shook her head. "Don't ask."
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Buffy was really happy with the way the night had gone. A couple of days ago, she'd been lonely and miserable and now Dean was back and she was having a fun night off with her friends. It was a double bonus. Plus, Dean was being completely adorable. He'd really gotten into the job of giving out candy to the trick-or-treaters. She'd finally just let him take over. He seemed to get a big kick out of teasing the kids and giving them pointers on making their costumes more authentic. He'd even given a few to-go beers to some of the younger fathers.
"I can't believe Dean's so into this," she remarked to Sam when Dean had gone to answer the door again. "Earlier, he was acting like the Grinch."
Sam shrugged. "Yeah, you never know about him. I guess this whole scene's new to both of us. Halloween wasn't exactly a holiday we celebrated… Not that we really celebrated any holidays."
"That's terrible!" Buffy gasped in horror. "You mean you never went trick-or-treating?"
"You know," Sam said thoughtfully. "I'd almost forgotten, but Dean did take me one year. Dad was out of town, because he'd have killed Dean for it if he'd known. I was in first or second grade and he put a motel sheet over my head and cut out eye holes. I got an entire pillowcase full of candy that night. It was actually really fun until I ate so much that I puked."
"That's sweet," Willow said. "Not the puking part, of course, but the fact that Dean took his little brother out on Halloween is really cute."
Sam grinned. "Well, we finished the night by smashing a bunch of jack-o-lanterns and egging the principal's house. Dean's idea, of course. I liked the principal."
"Nerd," Faith teased with a shove to his leg. She was sitting on the floor with her back resting against the edge of the recliner Sam was sitting in. He'd offered her his seat, but she'd said 'no' because she decided she'd rather force him to look down her top all night. It was working too, he was all wound up. He didn't seem to know what to do or where to direct his eyes. She'd eventually wear him down if it was the last thing she did. It was her new mission in life.
Dean returned to the living room with a mostly empty bowl of candy.
"It's nine thirty," he said. "All the kids need to be in bed. So, I'm eating the rest of the candy."
"Dean," Buffy scolded. "That's just mean! What are you gonna do if more show up?"
"You've got a bag of apples in the fridge. They can have those."
"Man that's just wrong," Xander remarked as he reached into the bowl and grabbed a handful of candy for himself. "I hated the apple givers. They were just asking for a big, flaming bag of dog poo."
Buffy shook her head at Xander, who was busy stuffing candy in his mouth. "You're one to judge," she said dryly.
"Well, Dean's right. It's too late for kids to be out. There was a thirty minute dry spell between the last two groups. So, I don't think anybody else will come… And if they do, they'll learn a valuable life lesson."
"I'm sorry Allie," Buffy remarked. "Your poor child."
Allie nodded her agreement. "Sad, isn't it?"
XXXXXXXXXX
Trick-or-Treating did appear to be over for the evening, because the door bell had stopped ringing. Xander declared it movie time since he'd brought an assortment of horror films with him. They watched the original Dawn of the Dead first. It was cheesy and the effects were dated, but it was still a fun choice. However, Buffy had to remind herself that they shouldn't be so technical in their commentary. Willow's date was starting to look at them like they were axe murderers.
When the zombie film was over, Xander decided to put in the remake of House of Wax. Dean had griped about that choice, saying that the originals were always best and he didn't want to watch a Paris Hilton movie. He was sort of pacified when Buffy told him that she was pretty sure Paris died a horrible, gruesome death.
"Dude!" Dean exclaimed as he pointed at the screen. "That's Sam."
"What are you talkin' about?" his brother asked. "That guy looks nothing like me."
Dean started laughing. "That's you! That's little Sammy. Maybe five, six years ago when you were still all skinny and gangly. You know, back when you were kinda cute and kinda ugly? Like a baby moose."
Sam gave his brother the finger. "Just shut up. You're talkin' out of your ass. He doesn't look like me."
Everyone in the room looked a little sheepish except Xander who declared the resemblance uncanny.
"Yeah right," Sam said with an eye roll. "What do you think Faith?"
"Looks nothin' like you," she stated quickly.
"See!" Sam said to his brother.
"Yeah, that's convincing," Dean replied sarcastically. "I just hope Paris gives you a pity lay before you get turned into a giant wax dummy. I don't want to see little Sammy die a virgin. Horror's one thing, but that's just tragic."
"Fine Dean. If that's how you wanna be, why don't we talk about the time Paris Hilton kicked your ass?"
Faith laughed. "Now this, I've gotta hear."
"Yeah sweetie," Buffy said. "I'm intrigued. Why don't you share with the class?"
Dean started to open his mouth, but caught a glimpse of Willow's date and realized he couldn't exactly tell the truth. "It wasn't really Paris," he grumbled, "and she didn't kick my ass anyway."
"Not how I remember it," Sam smirked.
"Why don't you bite me?"
"Is that the best you got?" Sam challenged with a grin.
Dean grinned back at his brother. "Trust me, little girl. You can't handle the hard stuff. I don't wanna make you cry in front of all these people." He glanced at Faith when he said the last part.
Sam started to respond, but the unmistakable sound of flapping wings made him pause.
Castiel was standing in the middle of the living room, seemingly oblivious to the scream of horror coming from Karma and the flying bowl of popcorn Xander had launched into the air. Once Karma's scream had died out, the room became completely silent as all eyes focused on the angel.
"Hello Dean," he said calmly before turning and nodding at his brother. "Sam," he added.
"Cas," Sam echoed back.
"Oh no, no, no!" Buffy exclaimed. "This doesn't count."
Both Castiel and Dean looked at Buffy curiously.
"Huh?" Dean asked.
"This doesn't count," Buffy repeated. "You cheated. You set this up so that something weird would happen on Halloween, but I'm way ahead of you. You're a schemer and a cheater, which makes you a huge loser. Now you'll have to take me to see a chick flick every weekend until the end of time." She then turned her gaze on Castiel. "You should be ashamed," she scolded. "Don't you angels have better things to do than go around helping sneaky guys play tricks on their girlfriends?"
"Angel?" Xander croaked out. "Does that mean Dean isn't going to stab it with the big, scary knife?"
"I don't understand," Castiel replied to Buffy, completely ignoring Xander's presence. "I am here to speak with Dean."
"What's up Cas?" Dean questioned.
"Can we speak privately?"
The doorbell rang before Dean was able to reply. "What the hell?" he said. "It's almost midnight. These little bitches are getting apples," he declared. "Just give me a minute," he said to Cas before heading toward the kitchen.
"You know what buddy," Xander remarked. "I don't buy this angel story. If you really were an angel, you wouldn't stand there and let Dean perpetrate one of the greatest evils a child could ever experience. Do you know how disappointing it is to be expecting chocolate and get lame, healthy fruit instead? Besides, they're always all mushy and bruised by the time you get home."
Castiel stared at Xander curiously for a moment. "You do not make sense," he finally stated.
Dean returned from the kitchen, triumphantly holding up the bag of apples and grinning mischievously. As he was answering the door, Castiel's gaze fell on Faith.
"You are Faith," he remarked. "The last of the original Slayer line."
"Uh… yeah," she replied hesitantly.
"You reformed your ways. I commend you."
"Umm… thanks?"
Sam watched the exchange curiously, but jumped in after Castiel made his next comment.
"You're dressed like a harlot," the angel stated.
"Hey!" Faith snapped.
"Dude!" Sam exclaimed. "That is not cool! You can't say stuff like that."
"It was just an observation," he replied calmly.
"Well, keep it to yourself," Sam frowned as he gave Faith a sympathetic shrug.
"I do not understand this holiday," Castiel remarked after a few moments of silence, during which he appeared completely immune to the evil eye Faith was sending his way.
"Me neither," Sam sighed.
"Why would parents allow their children to dress in costumes and go door-to-door so that they can be beaten by grown men?"
"You got me," Sam shrugged. "Wait… What?"
"Dean is beating on the children."
Everyone had been so focused on Castiel's sudden appearance that they hadn't paid attention to what was going on between Dean and the trick-or-treaters. Buffy, Sam, and Faith immediately jumped up and hurried toward the front door.
There appeared to be about six children in the group. Dean had moved out onto the front stoop where he had one pinned down and was viciously pounding on it with his fists. Another was hanging onto his back, pulling his hair and beating on his head and shoulders. Another was sitting dazed at the foot of the stairs. The remaining three were kicking at Dean and trying to push past him to get into the house.
"Dean!" Buffy exclaimed.
"They're not kids," he replied between blows. "I think they're midget trolls! The apples were a bad idea," he admitted. "They're really pissed."
One of the 'children' pushed its way past Dean and crossed the threshold into the foyer. It looked up at Buffy and grinned maliciously, showing rows of tiny, pointed teeth.
"You're no a trick-or-treater," Buffy stated accusingly. Before she could hit it, the creature stomped down hard on one of her feet and pushed her back roughly. It was surprisingly strong for its size.
An all-out brawl broke out in the living room as the tiny, troll-like creatures stormed into the house. Both of the Slayers and the Winchesters had their hands full just trying to get a hold of them. They were fast, vicious, and very destructive. Buffy's coffee table was the first casualty, soon to be followed by a shelf of knickknacks and photos. Buffy was infuriated by this and started beating on them with one of the broken coffee table legs.
The rest of the guests sat in shock, still trying to recover from the angel's appearance. Castiel stood in the middle of the room watching the action casually.
"Shut your eyes," he announced loudly.
"Do it!" Sam ordered. "Everybody, close your eyes now!"
Dean grabbed Buffy and shielded her face against his chest while he squeezed his own eyes tightly shut.
The light was so strong that it could still be seen through closed eyelids. It seemed like only a second or two passed before the room went silent.
"It's done," the angel stated.
Everyone opened their eyes to see the bodies of six, tiny, troll-like creatures scattered throughout the wreckage of the room.
"Hell yeah," Dean remarked as he surveyed the results of Cas's wrath. "Go Smite-y!"
"What the hell were those things?" Sam asked.
"They are known as trows," the angel replied. "They are a type of faery, although they have the temperament and appearance of a troll."
"I hate freakin' faeries," Dean growled.
"What were they doing here?" Buffy asked.
"They have a sweet tooth."
Buffy huffed in disbelief. "So you're telling me these things just wanted to trick-or-treat? Are you saying that if we'd just given them candy, they wouldn't have completely destroyed my living room?"
"That is likely," Castiel confirmed.
Buffy glared at Dean who shrugged and gave her his most boyish grin.
"I can't believe this!" she exclaimed. "You turned perfectly harmless creatures into rampaging little delinquents just because you couldn't stay out of the candy!"
"They weren't harmless," the angel interjected. "They have a habit of abducting musicians and forcing them to play for them until they die of exhaustion."
"Ah ha!" Dean shouted as he pointed a finger at Buffy and beamed a gloating smile. "Who's the world's greatest hunter?"
"Oh no," she groaned. "I'll never hear the end of this."
Dean was practically rubbing his hands in glee. "Who's the big loser now? I'll give you a hint. She's cute and blond and she owes me fifty bucks."
"Can we speak now?" Castiel asked, interrupting Dean's gloating.
"Sure," he replied with slumped shoulders, obviously disappointed that he had to stop flaunting his win. "We can step outside." Dean winked at Buffy on his way out. "We'll get back to this," he promised.
Once they were outside, Dean sat down on one of the steps. "What's the deal?" he asked.
"I wanted to tell you that I can find no evidence of demons on the Hellmouth."
"Yeah, we kinda figured that. How'd you find me anyway? Are the sigils on my ribs pooping out?"
"No," Castiel replied. "I just looked for Buffy Summers. I assumed you would be with her."
Dean nodded. "Okay, but do me a favor dude. Next time you wanna talk to me, appear outside and ring the doorbell. It'll work out best for all of us. Otherwise, you might see something you shouldn't."
"Like what?"
"Never mind. Just trust me, okay?"
"Okay."
"So, is that it?" Dean asked. "No offense man, but you really tripped some people out tonight. Some folks aren't used to your level of freaky."
"I do have other concerns," the angel stated. "I was wondering if the Slayer dreams had provided any further information."
"Afraid not. Seems they aren't dreaming at all anymore. Weird, huh?"
"It is interesting," Castiel agreed.
"So, you think that Eve chick is strong enough to do this? You think she could actually be blocking their dreams?"
"She is very old and very powerful. You need to be careful, Dean. There are forces in play that you do not understand."
"Wouldn't be the first time," he remarked. "So, why don't you enlighten me?"
"I'm afraid I cannot. I don't have the time to explain properly. I just want you to promise me that you and the Slayers will tread very carefully where Eve is concerned. If you obtain any new information on her, please pray for me. Don't make any moves until you speak with me."
"You want in?" Dean grinned. "No problem man. As long as you bring the super smiting along, you're invited."
"Good." The angel paused for a moment and looked Dean in the eyes solemnly. "Be careful Dean," he repeated once again.
Dean chuckled and rolled his eyes. "Thanks Mama Cass. You be careful too. Watch out for those ham sandwiches."
"What ham sandwiches?"
Dean shook his head. "Don't worry about it. I'll catch you later man. I need to get in there and help clean up that damn faery mess. I hate those fugly little bastards. Just remember - appear outside, ring doorbell. Are we straight?"
"Yes. Goodbye Dean."
XXXXXXXXXX
A/N: I think 'trow' is a pretty weak name for a monster, but it is from genuine folklore (just ask Google, it never lies). Anyway, I completely fabricated the part about them liking candy, but the kidnapping musicians thing is part of the legend.