Looking around the Bronze, Mac sat at a table by himself, a nicer shirt than usual on, and lacking his usual leather coat. He craned his neck slightly toward the door, frowning when there was no blonde there. Bomba saw him alone and smirked, strolling over, "I know. Is the Bronze not-happening tonight, or what?"

"Um," Mac blinked at her in slight confusion. "Hey. I was waiting for Grids."

Bomba ran a hand over her rather tight skirt, smiling, "Great." She sat down next to him, "I'm supposed to be meeting Devon, but he's nowhere to be seen. It's like he thinks being in a band gives him an obligation to be a flake. Well, his loss is your incredible gain..."

"I suppose you could put it that way," he said, a bit warily.

Grids entered a short while later, looking a bit sheepish and very much the worse for the wear. Her latest fight had been in a pumpkin patch. She ran her fingers through her hair, pulling seeds and muck from it. Her gaze moved around the Bronze, finally focusing on where Bomba and Mac were seated, Bomba flirting massively. Grids couldn't see Mac's expression from where she stood, but one look from Bomba to herself and she hesitated, biting her lip and starting to turn away.

Having finally laughed at something Bomba said, Mac's eyes finally found Grids and he was up like a shot, leaving Bomba mid-sentence to stride over. "Grids," he said, voice warm.

Grids froze, but turned, managing a smile, "Oh. Hi. I was just..."

"Running a bit late?" Mac offered.

"Rough day at the office," she sighed in response.

He reached forward, pulling a strand of straw from her hair and smiling fondly. "It happens."

Her gaze flicked to the straw, "It's a look. A...seasonal...look..."

Bomba passed them on her way to get a drink, smirking, "Grids, I love your hair. It just screams street urchin."

Grids dropped her gaze, "You know what? I need to go, I don't know, put a bag over my head."

"Don't listen to her," Mac said with a flick of his head. "It doesn't matter, and you look fine."

"You're sweet." She offered him a bit of a smile, "A terrible liar, but sweet." She started to go again.

"I'm not lying," he tried to insist.

"Mac, I look like I went three rounds with the Great Pumpkin. I need to go and get cleaned up."

"But," he attempted. "We had a..."

"A date?" She sighed, shaking her head, "Who am I kidding? Dates are things normal girls have. Girls who have time to think about nail polish and facials and stuff. You know what I think about? Ambush tactics. Beheading." She sighed again, "Not exactly the stuff dreams are made of. Maybe we can try again some other night." She turned and slipped out.

Opening his mouth, Mac stared after her in loss, unsure what he could have said but hating to see her walk away. Bomba sidled up to him, offering him one of the cups in her hand, "Cappuccino?"

He blinked at her. She shrugged, "Devon's still not here and I picked up two in case he showed."

"Right," he said, not really quite believing her.

"So, you interested?"

"I suppose," he said finally, retreating back to the table.

o.o.o.o

Mistoffelees watched as Snyder pulled a girl to a side, informing her she was volunteering. "It looks like Snyder is in charge of the volunteer safety program for Halloween," he mused, noticing Snyder shooting him a dark look. At least he hadn't been suspended, he supposed, for yelling at the principal.

"So what's the deal with that?" Grids asked.

"Huh?" Mistoffelees snapped out of it, thoughts still on the dark look more than Halloween.

"A bunch of kids need older folk to take them out trick or treating. Sign up and get your own group of sugar hyper runts. Snyder seems pretty vague on what volunteer means though..."

The girl grimaced at Tugger's description, "No thanks. I'll stick to vampires-" She startled and turned at a hand on her shoulder to find herself facing the principal.

"Miss Summers. And Mr. Rosenberg. Just the pair of delinquents I was looking for." Tugger opened his mouth to at least defend Misto, and got stepped on before he could speak.

"Principal Snyder..." Grids started to protest, she could not get drafted into this.

"I'm sure Halloween must be a big night for you. One pathetic cry for help after another. Not this year."

"Gee, really, I'd love to volunteer," she tried again, "But I recently developed carpal tunnel syndrome and, tragically, can no longer hold a flashlight."

"The program starts at four, and the children must be back by six thirty," the principal said, handing the trio three pens.

Grids sighed, glancing at her friends as she filled out the necessary information and passing the clipboard on. As Snyder moved away, Tugger groaned. "And costumes are mandatory."

"Great." Grids muttered, "The one night a year that things are supposed to be quiet for me and I still have to go out."

"I thought Halloween would be monster central," Tugger said as Mistoffelees filled out the form.

She shook her head, "Not according to Cori. He swears tomorrow night is like dead for the un-dead. They stay in."

"Those whacky vampires," Tugger said, shaking his head. "They just keep you guessing."

"Wish they wouldn't." She replied, glancing at Misto.

He lifted his brows. "Yeah huh?"

"What did you do to get on Snyder's bad side?"

"Remember locking me in a room with him with vampires outside?" he asked and Tugger stared at him in surprise. "I may have yelled at him and called him all manners of moron and idiot."

"Oh...right...that. Well, at least you don't act out normally so you might someday fall back in his good graces?"

"Someday," Mistoffelees shrugged. "I'm just glad that didn't end in suspension. That would have been fun to explain."

"Well, you're here still, I'm here still, and we're all intact, so I'd call it a win for now?"

"I'm willing to take that," he agreed. "So, how was Mac last night?" Tugger made a small, almost disgusted noise.

"What? Oh. The date. I was late due to unscheduled slayage. Showed up looking trashed," she shrugged.

"How'd he handle that?" Mistoffelees asked, sitting down in the lounge, producing a soda from his backpack.

"Pretty well, actually. But that may have had to do with the fact Bombalurina was all but drooling in his cappuccino," Grids flopped down on the opposite couch.

He arched a brow. "Grids, seriously? I don't think he's the type to fall for her act."

"I can't help it, Misto. I mean really, think about it. You have Bomba, absolutely stunning, always makes sure to look great. And then you have me. Who showed up for our date with my hair slicked with pumpkin guts."

"Well, I don't know," he said with a shrug. "Seeing people rumpled and slicked up with pumpkin guts, it makes it more real right? Who cares about looking great when you care about someone? Isn't the point of love seeing each other at all your worsts or at three am in the morning?" He realized with a blink he may have gone on too long.

"Three am I'm usually covered in Vampire dust and finally headed for bed and it's the equivalent to noon for him," she replied, not commenting on the length of Misto's spiel.

"You have got to remember to stop me," he murmured. "Anyway, okay, so there are problems. Do you really have any inclination to sabotage your relationship?"

"I do that without having any inclination to."

"Oh, Grids," he sighed softly. "Besides, Bomba totally isn't his type."

"But how do we know? I mean, what his type is? Or even what his turn-ons and turn-offs are? I've known him for less than a year and, if you haven't noticed, he's not one to over-share in any department. Especially that one."

"Well," Mistoffelees shrugged. "He seems to like you a whole lot."

"But what does that really tell me?" Grids insisted.

"That he likes you?" Mistoffelees offered, Tugger rolling his eyes and weaving off somewhere to get a soda or something, so long as he wasn't listening to this conversation anymore.

She sighed, "Okay, point. I still wish I knew more about him, you know?"

"You could always ask. And before you even mention it, I refuse to try and track down the Watcher's diaries."

"I know where he keeps them..." she replied, attempting innocence.

"In his office, which he almost never leaves?" Mistoffelees replied with an arched brow.

"Yeah, in there. But if someone was to distract him while someone else was to go grab them..."

"Who's doing the distracting then?" Mistoffelees asked with a sigh.

"You?"

"Oh, you can't be serious," he murmured. "Alright, fine. Will this make you feel better?"

"Yes," she nodded firmly.

He let out another long breath. "Alright, fine."

"Thank you!"

He whimpered, rising. "Right, let's get this done then."

She got to her feet, leading the way to the library and peeking inside, "Okay, he's in the book cage. You first."

Mistoffelees nearly backed out, before pushing the doors open and stepping in, unsure what sort of distraction he was supposed to cause. Cori looked up as the doors opened, "Oh, Mistoffelees. How are you today?"

"Oh, you know, the normal stuff. How are you?"

"Doing well. Just got in a couple of new books of myths and fairy tales, trying to get them catalogued properly."

"Anything interesting in them you think?" Mistoffelees asked, leaning against the edge of the book cage.

"I have rarely found a book without something interesting in it," Cori replied, "But yes, I expect so. One of them deals with supposed origins of the fairy tales. Though from what I've seen most are crackpot theories more than anything."

Grids slipped quietly into the library, glancing toward the cage and slipping quickly into the office while Cori's attention was divided between Misto and the books.

"You know," Mistoffelees said, sensing Grid's movements. "Why do they call it a book cage anyway? I mean, I see it's rather cagey but it seems so threatening to call it something like that."

Cori arched an eyebrow, that was the sort of question he expected of Tugger, "Because it's a cage where we store the books?"

"But why store the books in a cage?" he asked. "It seems harsh to the books. Can you tell I've been given caffeine today?" he offered, though he hadn't but aware he was babbling.

"It's where the more valuable ones go. Or the damaged ones until I can get them repaired. And you do seem to have been at least a little caffeinated," the Englishman agreed.

Grids glanced out of the office and, seeing Cori still had his back mostly to her, slipped out of the library quickly with the needed diaries in her arms.

You know, you spend a lot of time in this book cage. You really should get some more hobbies," Mistoffelees declared.

"I spend far more time in the stacks, and I'm sure we've discussed my hobbies in the past."

"One or two of them," Mistoffelees managed. Grids was gone, he really should just retreat, but couldn't quite pull it off.

"Do I need more than that?"

I suppose not," he managed. "I'm sorry, I'm probably bothering you and I shouldn't be."

"No, Mistoffelees, you're never a bother," the librarian responded sincerely.

He stopped for a moment at that. "Oh. Okay."

Coricopat glanced toward the clock, "But I do believe you have class soon?"

"Yeah," he managed to agree. "Class, which I should probably go to since getting on Snyder's list of evil students."

"Probably. Take care, Mistoffelees."

"You too," he said, taking a breath and retreating. He paused by the door. "Hey, how are you and Miss Calendar doing?"

"What? Oh...well enough I suppose," he replied, surprised the teen had asked, and uncertain about answering.

Mistoffelees offered him a flickering smile. "Oh, well, well enough is good right? Good."

He paused for a moment before speaking again, "What are you and Grids and Tugger up to tomorrow night, do you know yet?"

"We've been pressed into herding kids around," he said with a sigh. "We need costumes and everything. But it should be done by six thirty, so most of the night is ours. Why?"

"Just idly curious I suppose. Checking in out of habit," the librarian replied.

"Well, you know us. We're as inclined to throw a movie marathon than anything. We're not terribly adventurous if we don't have to be."

"Sounds like an enjoyable evening." He glanced toward the clock again, "You'd best be off if you don't want to be late."

Pausing for a second more, Mistoffelees nodded and finally let the door fall closed behind him. He could have sworn talking to Coricopat hadn't been that hard a few months ago, he could remember a time when it was easy. But maybe that had been the problem. Shaking his head, he went to class, sure he wouldn't be able to pay any attention to it.

o.o.o.o

Grids was perched out of the way, skimming through the diaries looking for anything on Mac. She paused on a sketch of a woman from the 18th century, "Man… look at her."

Mistoffelees craned his neck slightly. "Any idea who she is?"

"It doesn't say, but the entry is dated 1775."

"Mac would have been eighteen. And still human," Mistoffelees remarked and regretted it.

Grids sighed, "So this was the kind of girl he hung around. She's pretty...coifed."

"She looks like a noblewoman. Being pretty was practically their job."

"And she was obviously a workaholic. Misto...I'm never going to be like this."

"No, probably not. But personally, I'd be more psyched about being able to vote and hold a real job. I'm sorry, god, my sympathy button is broken today, I'm sorry," Mistoffelees sighed, letting his head thud back against the wall.

"I made you distract Cori, your sympathy button should be broken. But still, it must have been wonderful. To put on some fantabulous gown and go to a ball, like a princess..." She trailed off as Bomba stopped nearby.

"So, Griddlebone, you ran off and left poor Mac by his lonesome last night. I did everything I could to comfort him."

"I bet," the blonde growled.

"What's his story, anyway? I mean, I never see him around."

Not during the day," Mistoffelees replied sweetly.

"Please don't tell me he still lives at home. Like he has to wait until his dad gets home to take the car?" Bomba looked at him in disgust.

Grids shook her head, "I think his parents have been dead for, um, a couple hundred years."

"Oh, good. I mean-" she blinked in confusion, "What?"

"He's a vampire, Bombalurina," the other girl responded, "I thought you knew."

There was a beat before Bomba smiled knowingly, her tone dripping sarcasm, "Oh. He's a vampire. Of course. But the cuddly kind. Like a Care Bear with fangs."

"Well that's... technically true," Mistoffelees said.

"You know what I think?" She ignored Misto, focusing on Grids, "You're trying to scare me off because you're afraid of the competition. You may be hot-stuff when it comes to demonology or whatever, but when it comes to dating - I'm the Slayer." She offered the other girl a smile before flouncing off.

Grids closed the book with a heavy sigh, "Great."

"Ignore her," Mistoffelees suggested. "I mean, really, what does she know? It's you Mac wants to go on dates with, right?"

"...Right." She closed the diary, "We should probably go find costumes before all the shops sell out."

"Great, yeah," he sighed, rising. "And hey, look at it this way. The guy of your dreams actually wants to get coffee with you. He's not dating someone else. And oh god, I was supposed to be done wallowing."

"I'm sorry, I really should stop shouldn't I?"

"Naw, it's fine. We should go find Tugger before going costume hunting though. I'll get through, and you have legitimate woe too."

She glanced at him, nodding slightly, "Alright, let's go find Tugger then."

"We get on together, the two of us, or at least we will," he assured her. "And I bet he's where the food is."

o.o.o.o

Grids wove her way through the new costume shop that they were browsing, still trying to find something she wanted to wear, while avoiding contact as much as she could with the little kids that were roaming around. She looked up as Mistoffelees approached, "What did you find?"

He shrugged. "A time honored classic for those cowards who prefer not to dress up," he replied, showing her the cheesy ghost costume.

She arched an eyebrow at the costume, "Misto, I think you're missing the point of Halloween."

"It's not free candy?"

"No. It's come as you aren't night. The perfect chance to dress up like you never would and go wild with no repercussions."

"I really am not a fan of wild," Mistoffelees said, looking dubious.

"Come on, it's just one night," she wheedled.

"A lot could happen in one night. I thought this was supposed to be our slow night."

"It is. So go out on a limb." She looked around the shop, still half-heartedly seeking a costume.

"What would the guru suggest then?" he asked as Tugger came bounding up.

"I'm sure I can find something. Just not here...What did you find, Tugger?"

Tugger proudly displayed a toy gun.

"That's not a costume," Mistoffelees replied. "And do I even want to know what you're planning to dress me in then?" he asked Grids.

Tugger shrugged, ignoring the second bit. "I have some surplus fatigues at home."

"Not sure yet. I'll find some..." She trailed off, her gaze drifting to the back corner of the store.

The two teen boys followed behind her, and they all paused in front of the eleventh century dress that caught her eye.

"It's gorgeous," she breathed, reaching out to run her fingers over the fabric.

Mistoffelees nodded but Tugger tilted his head. "Too bulky. I prefer my women in like... spandex."

Suddenly, the shop owner appeared, tall and angular. "Please, do let me," he murmured, British accent making Mistoffelees pause.

Grids startled slightly, "I...that is, it's..."

"Magnificent, I know," he smoothed over her stammering, pulling it off the mannequin and holding it up in front of her. "There. See? A hidden princess."

The teen stared at her reflection in the mirror, her hands moving to hold the dress herself, "I...I'm sorry. There's no way I can afford this."

"Nonsense," he informed her. "I feel quite moved to make you a deal you can't refuse," he told her, glancing over the other two boys as well. "See? You already have a protector and..." he paused for a long moment to look over Mistoffelees as Tugger preened at being called protector. "And a classic is seems. You know, you're really never going to get noticed under a sheet." The smaller teen bristled slightly.

Grids bit her lip, glancing at her friends for their opinions. Her eyes said she was pretty seriously considering buying the dress anyhow, but... "I could come to see the joys of bulkiness," Tugger said and Mistoffelees shrugged, feeling all sorts of on edge.

She smiled a bit, nodding, "Alright, I'll take it."

"A most excellent choice," the shopkeeper said with a broad smile.

o.o.o.o

Jerrie studied the television screen in front of him, considering, "Here it comes..." The screen showed a recording of Griddlebone's fight the night before in the pumpkin patch. He watched as she fended her opponent off by hitting him in the face with a pumpkin giving her enough time to get to her feet, "Rewind that. I want to see it again."

As the image repeated, Jerrie paced, murmuring under his breath, "She's tricky. Baby likes to play." As the video started playing again, Jerrie neared the screen, pointing as she snapped a sign in half and staked the vampire with it, "D'you see that? Where she staked him with that thing? That's what you call resourceful." He shook his head, stepping back, "Rewind again."

"Miss Edith needs her tea," a dreamy voice behind him declared.

Jerrie glanced over his shoulder to see Cassandra, he offered her a faint smile and extended a hand to her as her turned back to the video, "Come here, poodle."

Cassandra slunk up to him, clinging to his side, and tilting her head to one side. "Do you love my insides? The parts you can't see?"

He wrapped his arms around her replying almost absently, "Eyeballs to entrails, my sweet. That's why I have to study this slayer. Once I know her, I can kill her. And once I kill her, you can have your run of Sunnyhell and get strong again."

"Don't worry," she said, patting his check. "Everything's switching. Inside to out, it makes her weak."

He finally looked away from the TV screen, turning his full attention to her, "Really. Did my pet have a vision?"

"You know what I miss?" she asked, already spacing out. "Leeches."

He sighed, shifting so they were face to face, "Talk to daddy. This thing that makes the slayer weak, Princess. When is it?"

"Tomorrow," she said, drawling the word out.

"Tomorrow? But tomorrow is Halloween, pet. Nothing happens on Halloween."

"Someone new disagrees," she said with a shrug. "And he wants the world to go topsy turvy."

"So, the Slayer will be weak tomorrow night then." Jerrie grinned, "Perfect, princess."

She giggled. "Princess did good?"

"Princess did very good." He agreed.

"You'll paint the town in red?"

"With her blood and anyone who gets in my way, sweet. Then we'll paint it again, together."

She clapped, gleeful. "You say the nicest things."

He grinned, looping his other arm around her waist, "And you'll get strong again, I promise."

She nuzzled his nose. "And we'll dance on graves."

"Anything for you, pet."