She'd never before seen her friend so mad.

A subdued Buffy Summers followed an angrily-striding Willow Rosenberg through the deserted halls of Sunnydale High, with that latter girl out in front of the pair heading towards the school library. Her heightened senses allowed the accompanying Slayer to hear the growling hisses under the redhead's breaths that never actually turned into fuming words, but conveyed well enough the incensed mood of the smartest girl in the school. Along with the irate boot heeltaps and the soft, rapid rubbing of the sexy leather outfit against the stomping body of someone who'd been coaxed by Buffy earlier tonight into reluctantly wearing that midriff-baring, clinging, thigh-high, low-cut-

As she trailed along after, Buffy mentally grumbled to herself, *Okay, if you want to be really picky about it, that one was my fault, but I don't even remember anything else!*

One second, she'd been walking down a sidewalk while surrounded by the Halloween trick-or-treaters in her charge, and the next second, she'd woken up lying on her back in the middle of a Sunnydale street, dazedly listening to feminine screeches of pure fury and the sounds of something being trampled. Still remaining in her unexpected position, the Slayer warily turned her head to look across the street where Willow in Buffy's best leather skirt was jumping up and down as hard as she could, with both of her boots landing directly upon a formerly-white sheet.

Watching in sheer fascination for a few seconds, Buffy had then shoved back with the palms of her hands against the street asphalt, lifting her upper body in the formal gown she was still wearing. Sitting with her legs sprawled in the gown's lower skirt, the Los Angeles native pulled off the brown wig she'd been wearing and shook out her hair, all while Willow then viciously kicked her former costume into the street storm drain. The sheet fluttered as if waving goodbye as it disappeared through the opening in the curb, with Willow glaring after this, standing there in the street as her cleavage heaved in both respiration and triumph.

Idly noting that if Xander had been here, he'd have collapsed to the ground in a puddle of his own drool, Buffy bemusedly called out, "Uh, Willow, what's going- Hey!"

That last yelp was the result of Willow spinning around in the street at hearing her name, dashing forward to where Buffy was lying on the ground, and bending down to grab the Slayer's left arm and yanking that young woman right up to her feet in a single hard pull. An astonished Buffy swayed on her dancing slippers, not believing her friend's sudden strength, until Joyce Summers' daughter cringed away from what was being screamed into her face at extremely close range.

"WE HAVE TO FIND XANDER-! Wait, you called me Willow, are you back again, Buffy?"

"A little less volume please, Wils," groaned Buffy, rubbing her aching ears in reaction to the first part of that shrieked statement. Abruptly stopping in her aural massage, Buffy blinked at her friend, bewilderedly asking, "Back? Did I go somewhere?"

"Aaaaahhhh!" Throwing up her arms in exasperation, Willow's attention was suddenly caught by something further up the street, resulting in Buffy also following her gaze. There, both saw a small costumed figure standing on the sidewalk, looking around in confusion, until this little girl in a fairy princess outfit then burst into tears and let her plastic pumpkin fall to the ground, spilling out its load of Halloween candy.

Grabbing Buffy's arm again, Willow started dragging her along, as both headed towards the still-crying child. The redhead snapped to her friend, "I'll tell you while we collect the kids we had along! Just one thing…" As Willow paused, an amazed Buffy now heard teeth actually grind, just before the girl in the racy clothes snarled over her shoulder, "If you ever again demand I call you 'My lady', I don't care if you're the Slayer, I'm gonna make you eat your stake!"

A frantic hour later, throughout the rounding up of the trick-or-treaters, escorting them back to the high school while also fruitlessly searching for Xander Harris, and handing the children over to their parents picking them up at Sunnydale High, Willow Rosenberg was about to erupt. She'd managed a few quick whispers with Buffy outlining some of tonight's bizarre events, and Willow had also tried to question several of Xander's charges about what had happened to him. Unfortunately, after seeing their blank faces that were mirrored by their parents, the redhead girl glumly knew that Sunnydale Syndrome had struck again.

Her mood hadn't been improved the slightest when Willow had made a beeline straight for the nearest public phone at the school once they'd returned there, callously leaving Buffy to deal with all the kids and the adults. An alarmed Rupert Giles taking the call admitted he'd been engrossed in a good book inside his quiet den at his apartment tonight, and he hadn't noticed anything odd at all happening outside in Sunnydale. Neither had Xander contacted him before Willow's message. The Englishman hastily agreed to meet the pair of girls at the school library; he'd take the back entrance so as not to be noticed by any remaining trick-or-treaters or those who were collecting them.

As the two girls approached the library door after seeing off the last of their charges, an unhappy Buffy noted that her Slayer hearing was listening in to only one heartbeat inside that book-filled room, and it was her Watchers', a sound as familiar to the young woman as her own heartbeat. Sitting at his desk, Rupert Giles' heart was beating fast, undoubtedly due to rushing over from his apartment after learning about tonight's strange events and Xander's disappearance. Buffy just hoped that Willow wouldn't start yelling right away; the Scooby Gang needed to first discuss what had happened this Halloween and then come up with some kind of plan to find their friend, instead of blaming people who didn't know what they'd done wrong in the first place!

Shoving the library door open, a glowering Willow stalked inside, followed right after by Buffy, as they headed to their usual seats at the main table in the center of the room. As expected Giles was at his desk, calmly watching them come in, as the stationary man in his chair waited for them to take their own seats. Occupied in their own thoughts during their short walk, neither of the feminine pair noticed that Giles' posture seemed a bit stiffer than usual, and the man's eyes looking ahead in his still face seemed to glint with a desperate light.

Dropping into her chair and then sullenly folding her arms over her much-too-exposed chest, Willow ignored Buffy drawing her own chair back, with the redhead then opening her mouth, about to start giving everyone within range a piece of her mind. Instead, Willow abruptly flinched away from the sudden flash of light next to her, twisting in utter panic to then see Buffy slump down in her seat, with the Slayer being covered by a glowing, transparent sheet of white illumination over her entire body.

"Yeeee!" shrieked Willow, scrambling up and back a few steps from her chair, to stand there trembling in absolute fright and disbelief, as the white light wrapped around Buffy flickered and then disappeared. However, the Slayer didn't move the slightest, only remaining staring straight ahead as she sat in her own chair, the blonde girl's hands and forearms resting limply on top of her gown's skirt.

Her mouth hanging open, Willow then shot a desperate gaze at where Giles was sitting, with her terror only increasing at seeing that man behind his desk also totally motionless and looking past her, with not even a single twitch of his eyes in her direction. Only slow, measured eyeblinks in time with his deep breaths disturbed the Briton's immobility.

Instead, the only movement at that exact moment came from right behind Rupert Giles, as the very air before a bookcase shimmered and then peeled back, to reveal standing there a tall man with a receding hairline, a few years older than the librarian he was looming over, with a deep frown on the features of the intruder in the outdated formal suit, as he briskly declared, "Okay, people, we need to talk-" Abruptly cutting himself off, the trespasser in the Scooby Gang's lair had his own mouth fall open, as he gawked at the shivering girl before him. Finally, this man managed to deliver in a very faint voice a truly disbelieving question:

"Wils, why are you dressed like that?"

Peace.

Darkness.

Her hands being rapidly patted.

Babble.

"-sorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorryI'msorry-"

Abruptly recovering from her short faint, Willow Rosenberg opened her eyes and looked into the frantic face of someone who couldn't possibly be here in the library anxiously peering at her from just a foot away-

"You're alive! Safe and sound, just like I checked for earlier, but you're here right now, in one solid piece, my Willow-tree!" The man's incredibly-familiar countenance was now as ecstatic as the announcement he'd just loudly and joyfully declared, with his arms all at once gathering her up in a jubilant hug that almost crushed the redhead's ribs and ended up with her chin perched atop his right shoulder.

Dazedly looking past the now-giggling man, Willow saw she was in one of the library chairs, with the stranger (well, not really) seated in his own chair next to hers, positioned so that, if he'd only stop hugging her, they would be facing each other side-by-side. Further beyond, Giles was stock-still behind his desk, and Buffy was also unmoving in her seat, both continuing to look straight ahead. Wistfully contemplating the prospect of fainting again, Willow's bewildered thoughts were then abruptly diverted by something else now being performed by the man holding her close.

He was crying. No, sobbing, Willow corrected herself, to start listening in stunned astonishment as she unexpectedly identified this weeping as identical to the only other person in her whole life who'd done it just like that: short, cut-off wails that were fearfully extinguished into a funny little hiccup that tried not to attract attention, especially from his drunken father, only to begin again when a little boy's grief and pain was too strong to bear-

Hastily squirming in the stranger's grip, Willow became free at last when he reluctantly let go and settled back into his chair, hands nervously clasping themselves as they were let fall into his lap. Hanging his head, the man with the tear-stained cheeks apprehensively peered up through his lowered eyebrows at the young girl in her seat staring at him in total wonderment, with Willow finally choking out, "Xander?"

The mature gentleman with the face and body of Mayor Richard Wilkins III hesitated for a moment, to then finally admit, "Yeah, kinda."