"I still can't believe you're not doing anything for Halloween. " Buffy tsked at me. I played with the zipper on my jacket and shrugged, watching her as she preened and adjusted her outfit in the mirror of her bedroom.
She'd found an 18th century dress that suited her rather perfectly, I must say; and a brunette wig that she had demanded I help her with.
"You're the one who was around back then," she had told me as she plopped herself down in a chair and shoved the wig into my hands, "you make me look like I was, too."
I'd done my best, and with her extra fixing and tucking and adjusting, she looked fairly convincing. And…very lovely.
"I'm studying with Giles." I informed her.
"Because that's so new and interesting." She rolled her eyes at me in the mirror, or rather…where I would have been in the mirror if I could be seen in it.
"He got some new tomes in from Egypt," I told her, "and his ancient Egyptian is rusty. As is mine, so we're going to try and balance each other out. It's necessary work, I assure you. Besides, I would…how do you put it…'rain on your parade'? I can't really eat candy, anyway. Not much, at least. And I would just frighten the children you have to escort."
Buffy shuddered.
"Don't remind me." She moaned.
In the bathroom, I heard something fall against the wall.
"Willow?" I called, worried she'd fallen in the bathtub again.
"I'm fine!" she shouted back. She didn't want us to look at her costume until she was completely dressed, bless her. She sounded nervous.
"So, uh, where're you meeting Angel?" she asked.
"Here," Buffy answered, "after trick-or-treating. Mom's gonna be out." Buffy's eyes sparkled and a little smile quirked the corners of her mouth upward.
"Behave yourselves, now." I scolded. She rolled her eyes at me again…more or less. It was directed more at the head of the bed than the center, where I was, but it was a good effort.
"Does he know about your costume?" Willow asked, ignoring my disapproving clucking.
"Nope." She answered, smoothing the silk of the dress, "Call it a blast from his past. Show 'em I can 'quaff' with the best of them." She spun and grinned at me.
"Do you even know what that means," I asked, "or are you just saying it because it sounds old?"
"Stop trying to spoil my fun, Grandma."
She turned around, pouted at me for a moment, and then her eyes flitted to the bathroom.
"Okay Willow," she said, "come out. You can't hide in there all night."
"Shh!" I grabbed Buffy's arm in mock seriousness. "Don't tempt her."
"O-Okay," Willow answered, "but promise you guys won't laugh?"
"I promise." Buffy answered for both of us.
A shadow moved across the wall of the bathroom, and then Willow timidly eased out from around the door. I blinked in surprise and let my hand drop from Buffy's arm.
Willow looked…very nice, actually. Not like Willow, certainly, but…I was surprised. Of all the things I thought she wouldn't pull off. She pulled it off.
She looked fierce, confidant. For about five seconds. She frowned at her reflection in the mirror, and hurriedly went to grab a sheet she'd had on stand-by.
"Wow," Buffy said, intercepting her, "you're a dish! I mean, really." She all but yanked the sheet from Willow and tossed it aside.
"You look lovely, Willow." I assured her. "Stunning. You'll turn heads, I promise."
"But…" Willow stammered, wrapping her arms around her bare torso as best she could, "This…just isn't me."
"And that's the point!" Buffy told her, pushing her towards the mirror. "Look, Halloween is the night when Not You is You, but not...You. You know?"
I sighed and ran a hand over my face.
"We might have a guess if we knew which You was being spoken to here, Slayer." I commented. Buffy rolled her eyes at me while Willow tried to force a courageous smile. I slid off the bed and went to Willow's side, patting her shoulder encouragingly.
"You look fine, dear. Really. It's a fine costume."
Willow turned to smile weakly at me. She looked pale, but a faint, pleased blush managed to grace her cheeks. It immediately vanished again when the doorbell rang.
"Oh!" Buffy said, "There's Xander!" she turned back to Willow, grinning. "Are you ready?"
Willow looked as though she was about to be sick.
"Uh, yeah," she said, "o-okay?"
"Great!" Buffy chirped, starting for the door. "I can't wait to see the boys go non-verbal when they see you." She grinned again, then gathered up her skirts and disappeared down the stairs.
I glanced at Willow. She was chewing on her lips so hard I was worried she was going to eat all of the lipstick she was wearing.
"Are you all right, sweetling?" I asked, rubbing her shoulder while she wrapped her arms around herself again.
"I-I don't know about this." She said. "I thought it was a good idea but…I really don't feel comfortable in this. I don't like being looked at, not really. I don't want anyone looking at me now just because there's more skin showing than usual. I mean, I don't mind boys noticing me, but…not like this."
She looked genuinely distressed. She was even starting to tremble, the poor darling.
"Does it really make you feel so terrible?" I asked.
"Sort of." She nodded.
I nodded once, smiled reassuringly, and handed her the ghost-sheet Buffy had discarded.
"I will not have you feeling terrible." I told her. "If you're not comfortable, then wear what makes you comfortable. And later, if you change your mind, you can always take the sheet off again. It's your choice. Don't let anyone tell you to wear or not wear something that makes you feel less than you're worth."
"Thanks, Marge." Willow said, snatching the sheet and hurriedly draping it over her head until it covered her outfit.
"Buffy won't be happy." She said.
"Buffy can deal with it." I shrugged. I smirked, gently grasped her head through the sheet, and planted a quick kiss where her forehead should be.
"Have a nice time," I told her, "don't eat too much candy, don't think too much, and have fun. You know where to find me if you need a break."
Willow nodded and took a deep breath.
I followed her down the stairs. Over Willow's shoulder I could see Xander, dressed as his idea of a soldier, I suppose. Though nothing was tucked in according to regulation.
Buffy looked up at us in dismay.
"-Casper." She finished a sentence we'd missed out on.
"Hey, uh, Will, that's uh…a fine 'Boo!' you've got there." He pointed at the word on the front of Willow's sheet. I coughed discreetly to hide my smile. For I am always the soul of discretion and will never be caught laughing at my children…never…
All right, I might have giggled. Just a little.
"Well," I said as an awkward silence began to descend, "I think Giles is waiting for me. And you three need to meet your charges. Shall we go?"
Buffy gathered up her skirts again while Xander gallantly opened the door for us.
I gave Willow a reassuring squeeze of the arm before grabbing my book-bag and darting through the front door.
I admit, I felt a trifle guilty about leaving them to take care of tiny children by themselves tonight. I mean…they had a Slayer, and all. So they couldn't have been in safer hands, I suppose. But at the same time, these were children. Did Buffy even know how to look after children?
'You're over-thinking it, you old fool.' I told myself. 'Just because you run after children who constantly get put into harm's way, it doesn't mean the same thing is going to happen with their charges. It's Halloween. Nothing happens on Halloween.'
I really wish things would happen the way they're supposed to. Just once. For an old woman's sake.