Life Out Of Joint - Chapter 2/7: Cordially Invited free porn video

LIFE OUT OF JOINT by Crazy Baron Chapter 2/7 -- Cordially Invited Synopsis: The party is finally at hand, and the partygoers, some more excited than others, have a chance to show their skills at both socializing and portraying their characters in a roleplay. Not everything goes according to the organizers' plans, though. ***** I both looked forward to and dreaded the next Saturday. When it finally came, I wanted it to be over as soon as possible, but as I watched the clocks count down the time to six thirty PM, I hoped they would slow down. I felt anything but ready. Kate didn't have to contend with such contradicting emotions in the slightest. She was up early, happy as a clam, eagerly waiting for the party. For her part, she made sure I spent the remaining time preparing myself for the roleplay. I was told to go over the episode guide one more time, and then my morning lessons were concluded with a special screening of the final two episodes of the Buffy show. "See how that caps off her story?" Kate asked me when the final credits rolled. "She's gone through this amazing journey with her friends and she has changed the whole world for the better! Isn't that cool?" "I guess," I commented and shrugged. "Whatever." "Joanna would say something about pearls and swine at this point," she snorted. After dinner, she coaxed me to take a shower. I was again assaulted by a barrage of embarrassing sensations as the warm water washed over every square inch of my entire feminine body, but with intense concentration I managed to ignore them, get myself clean and dry my face and the rest of myself from the neck down with a towel. Of course, the long hair required special attention, and I had to blow-dry it in addition to using another towel to get some of the water out first. That was a task in itself, especially for someone who had never had long hair before in his life, but fortunately Kate offered me a hand, and so the blond mane was eventually tamed. "Good thing Angel has that short guy haircut," she remarked as she pulled the hairbrush one last time through my tresses. I was sitting on a low chair in the upstairs bathroom, with a towel protecting my modesty. "All you need to do is to comb it, then add some gel, and you're set. Nothing like what we girls have to go through." "That's one more reason for me to be glad when I get out of this body," I said. Kate gave me a long look. "You know," she said, "maybe I really should let you stay in there for a few more days. That old male chauvinist in you still keeps surfacing." "What's chauvinistic about not wanting to have long hair?" I asked. "It's not about that, Buffy. I know what you really meant, so don't play dumb." "Don't call me Buffy." She smiled and whispered into my ear, "Buffy, Buffy, Buffy!" "Buffy this and Buffy that," I sighed theatrically. "Let's hear it for Jody and Cissy and Uncle Bill for a change." "Huh? What did you say?" she inquired, obviously not getting my joke. "Never mind." Kate gave me a fresh matching set of white silk bra and panties, as well as a pair of cream-colored, soft socks. As soon as they were on, I could put the towels aside to dry. "Now," she explained, "about tonight. As you have seen, Buffy had plenty of different looks on the show. She has interesting choices of clothes, accessories and many very nice hairstyles. Because we can't really take you to a hairdresser and also because we sadly don't have access to the wardrobe of a major Hollywood studio, our options are that much more limited. So, Mandy, the girls and I thought that it would be best to go with something that is typically her, if it's alright with you." "As if I actually had a say in any of this." "I would have liked to include you in the planning, trust me, but that would have completely spoiled the surprise. Besides, if we let you make all your styling decisions yourself, you'd turn yourself into the fashion equivalent of the Chernobyl disaster in no time." "Give me some credit," I protested. "I don't think I'd be worse than Three Mile Island. Or maybe Windscale." "No, you'd wear a dirty t-shirt and your worn out male jeans and go without makeup or even brushing your hair. That's Chernobyl. Anyway, as I was saying, we chose the late Season Three look for you. It's pretty close to the one she sported at her high school graduation and also when she and Faith had that big fight; remember that?" "Who's Faith?" I asked with feigned innocence. "You'd better be kidding, or else I'll get really upset with you," she warned me. "Okay, okay, I was just kidding." "Fine. So, we'll have your hair like that, long, straight and parted down the middle, or just a little to the left. You'll wear red faux leather pants and a black high neck vest top indoors, but you can add a light sweater to it if you feel cold. Oh, and there's also a dark brown leather jacket for when you need to go outside." "Leather pants?" I exclaimed. "No way! Isn't there anything more comfortable?" "It's not just about being comfortable," Kate pointed out. "You have to look good too." That argument settled everything, as far as Kate was concerned. We went to her room, and when I emerged from there a couple of minutes later, I was wearing the leather pants and the top, plus two small silver rings in each ear. As I had expected, the pants were very form-fitting and hot, and I already felt like a human sausage, but to my surprise they didn't restrict movement very much. I was also relieved to discover that the earlobes of the skinsuit already had tiny holes in them, so one painful adventure, getting my new ears pierced, was happily avoided. "That's the classic Buffy look," Kate announced and smiled at me. "Things are coming together, yes indeed! And now for the makeup. Go back to the bathroom and wait for me there." I pulled the chair in front of the vanity and sat down. As usual, the table was filled with small containers, tubes, brushes and pencils, most of them in what seemed to me a carefree disarray. Since this was the big night and I had to look my best, I feared that the upcoming makeup session might last for hours on end. In a minute or so, Kate came back to the bathroom and put a small picture on the vanity next to the mirror. It was a close-up portrait of Buffy, apparently an old publicity shot for the show. "For reference," Kate said after noticing that I was eying the picture. The actress-in- character was staring in front of herself--that is, directly at the camera--with her lips slightly parted, sporting a masterful makeup job and a flawless skin that had no doubt been airbrushed or digitally manipulated to perfection afterwards. "Why does she have to do that?" I wondered aloud. "Do what?" Kate asked me. "That damn thousand-yard stare in every other shot there is of her when she's in character," I explained. "I don't know if it's supposed to be sexy or something, but I think it's a little unpleasant." "Oh, you mean that picture! At least you get a good look at her face, which is what I need here." "But it makes me feel queasy," I complained. "And imagine some people put posters like that on their walls! I wouldn't be able to sleep, with those sparkling little eyes boring into my skull. But I guess that's what killing demons as your main occupation does to you. Can you say PTSD, boys and girls? I knew you could!" "Shut your mouth and stay still," Kate ordered. "Time for the primer and foundation." She squeezed little drips of a cream-like substance from a tube onto her fingertip and dabbed them onto my cheeks, nose and chin. After rubbing them into a thin, even layer with her fingers, she followed with the foundation, which was blended using a small sponge. This time, she explained almost every step to me as she went on, probably to keep me both entertained and relaxed. In a few moments, I had learned more about cosmetics than I really even cared to know. "I think we'll skip the concealer," she said, looking my face over. "Your skin is so ridiculously flawless you don't need any." "Speaking of concealment," I said, "would you mind if I concealed myself under my bed for the rest of this day, instead of going to the party?" "Yes, I would mind," she responded. Then came the matte powder. "You know," Kate said while brushing it onto my face, "I really should teach you the basics of makeup so you wouldn't have to rely on me every time you want to touch up your face a little." "Why?" I asked in an amused tone of voice. I was too embarrassed to laugh out loud, however, and she had ordered me to stay as still as possible. "I'm only going to do this once." "Never say never, sis. Who knows, maybe you'll like roleplaying so much that you want to join our club later, and there's no guarantee you get to play only male characters. Our group is so small that we can't always choose which skin to wear if we want to act out a certain story with certain characters. Then again, that makes the experience much more interesting and more challenging as well. We have to be versatile." "I suppose so," I said. Kate was now done with the powder, and she proceeded with the eye makeup. Again, there was some primer first (she commented that it was particularly important for some reason). The first layer of eye shadow on my eyelids was applied with her finger, then another of a different color with a brush; then came some more powder around the eyes; and next she broke out a pencil eyeliner. This was the part I disliked the most, as I had to stay absolutely still while she worked on the edges of my lower eyelids, with me constantly fearing she might slip and hurt me. All went well, however. "When we first started doing this some two years ago," she reminisced while giving my eyelashes a touch of mascara, "we had nothing but female characters in our plays. We all thought it would be gross to dress up as a man, but the sessions began to feel pretty boring without any of the Buffy guys, so one day Tina took the plunge and showed up as Angel. The session turned out absolutely great, even for Tina. After that we experimented some more, and now it's no longer a big deal for a member of our group to play a guy." "Tina the Butch playing a man," I injected. "Figures." "That's not a very nice thing to say, Buffy. She's really not that bad, once you get to know her and she learns to trust you." "Maybe that's so, but anyway, why can't you just run around in the woods with plastic swords pretending to be elves and orcs and fairies and whatnot like everyone else who's into this roleplaying thing?" She completely ignored my question and continued, "You see, if we both go as girls one day and I have to do everything for you and myself, we're going to need hours and hours to get ready. It takes years to become good with cosmetics because you pretty much have to learn the stuff by trial and error, but I'm sure you could develop at least passable skills so you'd be able to do your own face without ending up looking like a cheap hooker. Even if you never wear a skin again, you can surprise your wife with a makeover if you know a thing or two about this--and if you get married, of course." "If I do get married and my wife finds out about this little adventure, she's bound to file for divorce in no time." She then moved on to my cheeks, adding some blush to them with a large, soft brush. My lips were the last on her list; commenting that she wanted me to have a natural look, she treated them with some lip liner pencil and finished them with lip gloss. All in all, the whole operation didn't last very long this time. She even pointed this out to me, and according to her, I had both the natural qualities of the skinsuit and her unparalleled skills to thank for. Even so, I could not help but grimace at the still alien feeling of all those chemicals on my face. I was supposed to be presentable and in character at a party, albeit an informal one, so the makeup was slightly stronger and more elaborate than that which I had worn previously. Looking once more into the bathroom mirror, I had to admit that I was now sexy as hell, regardless of how I otherwise felt about the situation. Kate put the makeup paraphernalia out of the way and then went to her room, with me in tow. She picked up a pair of women's black clunky- heeled ankle boots that had been stashed in her closet. "Now, put these on," she ordered and placed them next to my feet on the floor. "Stylish yet affordable, just the way you like them." I only had to take one good look at the boots to be able to tell that they would not be very comfortable. They seemed extremely small, even for my new dainty feet, and the blocky heels were around three inches tall. For someone like myself that was certainly enough to make walking difficult and running downright impossible; even being able to stand straight without losing my balance would be a small achievement. "You can't seriously expect me to wear those!" I protested. "Buffy wears boots," she pointed out. "You're playing Buffy. So it must follow that you wear boots. Isn't logic fun?" "Assuming I cooperate." "No, really, those boots are part of your costume. It's not like you can go there in your dirty old running shoes that would be several sizes too large for you right now and ruin your look totally. So, why not wear the boots when you're already wearing the clothes and the makeup and even the body? However, to make you feel better, I'll bring a pair of my sneakers along just in case. If you have to walk a lot for some reason, you can change into them." "I don't believe this," I mumbled as I sat down on the edge of her bed. With much reluctance, I picked up the left boot and shoved my foot in. It fit just barely inside, and the boot squeezed my toes and heels, even with the zipper still open. After testing if I could still move my toes, I inserted my right foot into the other boot, zipped the boots up and then, extremely carefully and pushing myself up with my hands, rose to my feet. The pant legs, which flared somewhat at the bottom, covered most of the footwear as soon as I was standing up. My height had suddenly increased considerably, but I felt very unsteady. Things got worse as soon as I tried to take a step: the heel of the right boot almost slipped from underneath my foot, and I had to reach out to the wall for support. This immediately taught me that the only way to walk would be to take small steps and pay attention to my every single movement. To add to that, the boots were surprisingly (and, in my opinion, unnecessarily) heavy. "Oh, and one more thing!" Kate said. She went to her drawer and fished out a silver necklace with a small cross. "Here's the finishing touch to your outfit." Having managed to steady myself for the moment, I lifted my hair with my hand so that she could put the necklace on me. After the clasp was closed and the cross (the chain of which was icy cold and almost made me shiver) placed neatly on my chest, she took a moment to admire the result of her work. "Even if I say so myself," she stated, "you're absolutely perfect! When the others see you, they'll be in awe!" I sighed heavily but said nothing. "Wait here, I have to go get something!" She scurried off and ran downstairs. I could hear her yell to Mom, "Where's my camera? Who's borrowed it this time?" "Nobody's used it but you," Mom replied. "I think it's right there in your room." "The hell it is," Kate argued in her pointed manner. "I couldn't find the damn thing anywhere. Did Dad take it with him?" "I don't think so, honey. It should be here somewhere, most likely in your room." "Isn't this just typical! Now that I absolutely need it, the piece of shit is---" "Mind your language!" "Not now, Mom! Help me find it!" Much to my dismay, the camera in question did turn up after some ten minutes of yelling and, judging by various other noises, frantic searching that could have damaged the most fragile pieces of furniture in our family house. Kate came back with the lost and found apparatus and instructed me, "Alright, there's good... Hey, I know! Strike the Buffy pose for me, will you?" "No." "Come on!" "The last thing I need is evidence of this humiliation!" I said firmly, struggling not to raise my voice. "This is bad enough already. No, I don't want pictures." "'I don't want pictures, I don't want pictures!'" she mocked me. "They're for me, to remember my fantastic makeup job by. Plus we can always have prints made of the photos and you can start selling them to horny geeks at the University, so there's money in it for you." "Whatever. I guess I can't avoid this anyway. How do I do the pose?" I asked. "Well, put your hand on your hip--yes, just like that--and thrust your pelvis to one side... No! The other way! Yes, that's better. Stay still..." There followed a click and a flash that nearly blinded me. An excited Kate told me to smile as she was about to take another picture, but I wasn't in the mood to cooperate anymore and kept pouting, ignoring her the best I could. Eventually she again threatened to leave me trapped in the skin more or less permanently, and as a concession I developed a strained expression that was slightly reminiscent of a joyless smile on my face. After four or five more pictures, she was done with the photo shoot. "Good girl!" she complimented me, still fussing with the camera. "You can go downstairs now. You still need a date, so let me fix you up with one." "I'd better take the boots off then." "What do you mean?" "I'll probably slip and die if you don't let me---" "Nonsense! Hike your tush downstairs and wait for me there." That was easier said than done. I took one step at a time and moved slowly. It had taken me some time to get used to the dimensions of this new body, and now they had changed again, at least in a sense. Maintaining balance while walking on a flat surface was challenging enough, but this was far more difficult and simply frightening. Despite my efforts, I lost my footing when I was still pretty high up and had to grab the railing with both hands. Squeezing it with my knuckles turned white, I nevertheless managed to muster the courage to move on after a while. One of my booted legs slipped again when I had only a few steps to go, but this time I recovered more quickly. When I finally reached the downstairs floor, I had to stop and take a long breath to let my pulse slow down. Everybody would certainly have been in trouble, had I fallen. Of course, there was always the possibility of me breaking my neck and getting killed as the staircase was quite high, but even if I had only been injured, Kate and Mom would have had a tricky situation on their hands. How could they have explained it to the doctors at the hospital? The girl I had been turned into had no valid driver's license or any other form of ID, and nobody would have believed the truth about me and the skin. All the more reason to be relieved, I thought. "Oh my!" Mom exclaimed upon seeing me. She came closer, looked me up and down and continued, "I don't know how to say this without hurting your feelings, but you really do make a gorgeous girl, Mike." "Go ahead," I said, "rub it in. At least you called me by my real name." "I didn't mean to insult you, but it's just that... I'm so flabbergasted. I'd never have believed this is possible." "Neither would I, Mom." "It feels like I'm dealing with a total stranger who looks and sounds nothing like my son, but still, there is definitely some you left in her. The way you talk, for instance; it's the same, while the voice isn't. It's really bizarre. Even though it's been--what, three days now, I just can't get used to it." "Is this the moment when you finally admit you always wanted two daughters instead of a son and a daughter?" I asked and gave her a small, wry smile. "What makes you say that?" she asked back, sounding somewhat incredulous and surprised. She had obviously taken my little witticism slightly more seriously than I had intended. "Of course not!" "It's just that you seem to be a little more... supportive of this whole crossdressing party than I would have thought." Mom patted my shoulder, laughed softly and said, "You should know my love for you doesn't depend on your sex. If you had been born a girl, I would have loved you and cared for you just the same. However, I want you back to normal as soon as possible." "So do I." "And Kate promised me that none of this is permanent. I made her swear she won't do anything you don't approve of to you." I almost blurted out that she had already put me through lots of things that I absolutely did not approve of but decided to keep quiet. There was no need to upset Mom. Kate joined us only a few minutes later. Of course, the hulking fellow who nearly ran down the stairs making lots of noise looked nothing even remotely like my sister; instead, he was the identical twin of the man I had met earlier in our house. Thanks to Kate's lessons, I now knew more about this Angel character than I had ever known before--and, to be frank, more than I really cared to know. "Take a picture or two of us, will you?" she said in her new masculine voice, handing her camera to Mom. Not wasting a second, she leaped behind me and smiled widely for the picture. Only then did I realize just how huge her male form was. The fake man was towering above me! When Mom had taken the first picture and Kate hugged me for the next one, I thought I would be crushed like a bug. Her--no, his--arms must have been thicker than my legs. As Kate leaned closer to me, I could smell her aftershave and deodorant, both probably borrowed without permission from me. "Alright," she said to me, "let's go through the rules one more time. Try to stay in character as much as possible, don't scratch your private parts in public, don't rub your face, don't talk about politics or religion, don't make fun of other players, don't make rude comments about the session or Buffyverse in general and, most importantly, always play along. Got that?" "Character, private parts, no politics, no fun, rude comments and play along," I recited. "I was being serious, you smartass. Don't ruin this for us." "I'll try my best not to." "Hey, we're running late!" she exclaimed after taking a look at her watch, which also seemed more than only slightly familiar to me. "It's almost six forty-five already! The others are probably there now. Let's go, folks." In a more or less mock attempt to act like a gentleman, Kate took the brown leather jacket that went with my costume from the coat rack and helped it on me. I appreciated the protection it would offer against the cool outside air, but as soon as it was buttoned up, I felt as if I had been wrapped in yet another layer of this character whom I would rather have been shedding. For her part, she put on Angel's black overcoat and picked up a large gym bag from the foyer. The air was starting to get a little chilly outside, but since we wasted no time walking to Mom's car which was already out of the garage on the driveway, I didn't get really cold despite my impractical clothing. Kate, still keeping up her silly act, opened the car door for me, and I slid inside in a manner that couldn't really be described as graceful. Mom drove, and I sat in the back seat with my sister, who was currently a huge hunk of a man. Even though we only had less than two miles to go, I hoped for the ride to end even sooner than it did. As the buildings and streets of Greensville flashed by, I could only pray that there wouldn't be anyone to see us. Kate was the source of further mental discomfort for me. It was bad enough that she was a man, but I also noticed that she slowly and quietly rubbed her bottom and crotch against the seat. It didn't take me long to realize she was almost certainly fighting a raging erection. I needed all my willpower to stifle a hysterical, mad laughter as I contemplated the whole situation. All that was missing was a car accident. The Benton house, which was actually a kind of a stylish villa rather than an ordinary family home, was located on the outskirts of the town, overlooking Lake Green. Incidentally and befittingly, the lake could have been better described as a pond, just like the town could have been called a village. The local main road (nothing like an eight-lane freeway, either) went right past the lake, leaving only some two hundred yards of mostly scattered woods in between, and that was where the house stood on the top of a low hill whose slope descended gently to the shoreline. As I recalled, there was a short pier but I had never seen a boat anywhere in the vicinity. The surroundings were mostly taken good care of; during summertime, an old black man who lived in the neighboring town came to the house twice a week, mowed the lawn, tidied the place up and left. I only knew his last name, which was Jenkins. Otherwise the caretaker was a total mystery. As kids, we had been a little scared of him since he was seemingly a quiet and moody man who never spoke unless he had something important to say. Our gang occasionally spied on him and developed all kinds of crazy theories about his dark past or terrible secrets, especially after our parents had told us to stay away from the house where no one seemed to live. The truth, however, was obviously something much less interesting and frightening than those Stephen King-esque scenarios we had come up with. Now I knew that the house was owned by Sammy's uncle's in-laws-- who were also somehow related to Joanna, if I had understood correctly- -and that was how the local Buffy Appreciation Society had gained access to it. They had arranged game sessions there before because of the privacy the place offered, and it was also well suited for a small party. Mom turned onto the dirt road leading to the front yard of the house and drove past two lit lanterns that had been placed on the ground on either side of the road. Two other cars were already parked on the lawn next to the house itself, I noticed, and lights shone through the windows. Then we were there. I got out of the car, again with some difficulty, while Kate exchanged a few words with Mom before exiting the car as well. "Have fun, both of you!" Mom called out. After that, she drove off, leaving me and Kate standing on the lawn in front of the main door of the house. "Are you cold?" "Angel" asked. "I've got your sweater in the bag, if you need it, but it should be nice and warm inside the house." "I'm okay," I replied. "As far as temperature is concerned, that is." "If you weren't my brother," "he" continued in a casual, conversational tone, "I'd say you're quite a package. You make me feel all protective of you because you seem so petite and fragile." "Great! Protect me and take me back home." "Actually, I never really understood just how perpetually horny guys are until I put on a male skin for the first time. When I look at you, or smell your perfume, my hormone levels go through the roof. It's never been this bad for me before. I... Well, you see, it's kind of embarrassing, but..." "He" bent closer to me and whispered in my ear, "I could really use some advice from you. How do you keep your guy parts under control, anyway? It's like the thing has a will of its own. Even now..." "Get the hell away from me then!" I hissed angrily. "If you don't want to have a constant erection, I suggest you stop rubbing your crotch the way you did in the car. Besides, don't stare at my body like that. It makes you even hornier and scares me to death." "Hey, look, I'd never do anything to you!" "he" said quickly. "You're my... um, sibling, and I'm still so much of a girl inside that I only like men. I just can't help these physical reactions, that's all. Surely you've had those feelings by now too! You know, you get warm and maybe even a little moist down there when you see really hot guys on TV or---" "Jesus Christ, let's drop this subject of conversation already!" I nearly yelled. "Fine. But remember you're totally safe with me. I like guys." "Promise to keep your hands to yourself." "Okay, okay! Don't worry! Now, there's a party to attend." I could feel panic starting to take hold of me as we were walking towards the door. It was all ridiculous. I wasn't supposed to be here, or anywhere else for that matter, looking like this. I was a man, not some party girl who wore plenty of makeup and clothes that were just a little too provocative for this type of occasion. Besides, my little talk with Kate had not done anything to make me less nervous. "Let's go home," I pleaded one more time with my man-shaped sister. "I can't go in there. Not in this body." "But of course you can," she said in her new deep voice, attempting to sound reassuring. "Take it as another new experience, relax and enjoy. You are among good friends and you have nothing to be scared of or worry about. Nobody will laugh at you. Trust me, you'll be fine!" "Provided that none of your newly testosterone-filled friends sticks a few inches of meat into me the moment I walk in." I knew I had no other choice but to take the plunge. Bracing myself, I let "Angel" open the door for me and stepped inside carefully to avoid tripping on the high threshold. My "escort" (or, God forbid, "boyfriend") followed right behind me, carrying the sports bag with spare clothes. The main door led to a spacious hall with a large dinner table and a couple of small ones, some chairs and couches, and a big fireplace. The brightness of the lights was obviously adjustable because even though they were on, the room was still darkish. On the tables and the windowsills there were numerous lit candles whose light was beautifully reflected by the polished wooden floor and the glass of the windows. The house clearly belonged to someone rich; large, probably hand-made carpets lay on the floor, and a few tastefully picked paintings adorned the walls. There was even a stuffed deer's head hanging above the fireplace, looking down at us with lifeless dark brown eyes. All in all, the place was the perfect setting for a nice upper class Halloween party or a nasty little ritual involving human sacrifice, depending on one's imagination. Most of the other guests had already arrived. There were three people, seemingly men, fussing with cardboard boxes, plastic bags, and other packages near the dinner table, all the while chatting with each other in a way that was typical to almost every woman I knew. One member of the group had just lifted a portable stereo set on the table and was now crawling on the floor, presumably looking for a power outlet to plug the blaster in. Upon noticing us, a man with short, bleached blond hair walked up to us and said in an imitation of Cockney English, "Well, well. Would you look at that. The happy couple back together. Hip bloody hooray!" "Spike," my sister greeted the man, obviously not overly glad to see him. "You've got some balls to show up here again, mate," "Spike" continued in a malicious tone. "And with her, at that." The faux men were locked in a staring contest which ended with both of them erupting in laughter. Then "Spike" mercifully dropped his fake accent and finally broke character as well. "Seriously, it's great to see you guys," he said. "Can I take your jackets?" "Sure. Here's mine." Following my sister's example, I also unbuttoned and peeled off my jacket reluctantly and handed it to "Spike", who proceeded to hang it on a hook on the wall next to the door. It had been a great help in hiding some of the curves of my current body, but now I was painfully conscious of how my figure was on display. My pants hugged my hips, buttocks and thighs like a second (or was that "third"?) skin, and the two mounds on my chest pushed against the bra and the black top I had been made to wear. The urge simply to run away and hide had returned, and had it not been for the cursed boots, I probably would have done just that. The outfit was undoubtedly sexy, but I would have preferred to see it on someone else. "Go on," "Angel" ordered me. "Go talk to somebody. Socialize! Don't just stand there like a statue, sweetheart." "I'll show you 'sweetheart' when this is all over," I mumbled under my breath. As soon as we had come in, I had spotted three girls sitting on one of the sofas. After taking a closer look, anyone even casually acquainted with the Buffy show would have immediately recognized them as Willow, Cordelia and Dawn; on the other hand, probably no one outside this house could ever have realized that in actuality, they were my feminized male friends Jake, Charlie and Scott. I decided to join their company and commiserate with them, so I wobbled over to them cursing the boots, which had probably been invented by the Spanish Inquisition to extract confessions from heretics, and greeted them. "Hello," they replied almost in unison. "Mind if I sit here too?" I asked. "My feet are killing me." "Sure we won't mind," the Alyson Hannigan lookalike said, pushing behind her ear a few strands of her red hair--which, in contrast to the rest of us, only reached somewhat past the nape of her neck. Hearing her voice confirmed what I had already come to suspect: the mystery caller from three days ago was none other than her. "You're as welcome as can be," "Cordelia" added as I took a seat next to them. "Join the Tranny Sisters Club of Hell," she added dryly. "Actually, we're not quite in Hell itself, merely on the top of Hellmouth, if that's what you're talking about," one of the men corrected. He was brown-haired, tall and muscular, dressed in a military-style green wool sweater and camouflage pants. He walked past us, carrying a large box. "There's hardly any difference to us," "Willow" shot back, but the man and his box had already left the room. "In case you guys were wondering," I said after sitting down on a chair opposite to the couch, "I'm Mike. You are Jake, aren't you?" "Willow" shifted nervously and managed a weak smile. "Correct answer, but I'm afraid you won't win anything." "Too bad. I could've used a new car and some money, say two and a half million bucks." "I'm Scott, and that's Charlie," "Dawn" explained. Her round facial features and almost lanky body build showed that she was considerably younger than the rest, maybe around fifteen or sixteen. Her light brown hair was a lot longer than Jake's, almost reaching her bottom. Following the same basic dress code as "Willow", she had faded blue jeans and a sweater on. "We were wondering if and when you'd show up." "Well, here I am," I said. "And at least now we know who's who." "Oh Mike," Jake piped up. "Yes?" "Is this your idea of just black leather coats and plastic fangs?" It was hard to tell whether he was merely picking on me in a friendly way or trying to hold back serious anger. Ever since the moment Kate had revealed the girls' plans to me and made me wear the Buffy skin, I had known Jake would eventually confront me about how I had misled him concerning the party and caused him to end up in this trouble, and now the time had come. I could only tell him the truth and confess that the girls had successfully misled me first. "No," I said in reply to his nearly rhetorical question. "Not really. I had no idea whatsoever something like this was in store for us. If I had known, I would have stayed in the city. I just thought... You understand, don't you." "I guess this isn't your fault, but next time do please try to get more information beforehand. I definitely don't like surprises like this." "Me neither," the brunette accompanied her friend in a lilting feminine voice. Good old Charles McGee had been turned into a beautiful young woman who had a slender model's body. His present form was trim, almost athletic, and sported long chestnut brown hair. He--or rather, she-- wore a purple dress, its hem ending just short of his knees, as well as nude-colored pantyhose; for whatever reason, the girls had nevertheless spared him the agony of having to walk in high heels, and instead he had simple sandals on his feet. In an overblown impression of a snobbish art critic, he sneered and proclaimed in a New England accent, "Based on recent experience, I must say I prefer Halloween parties where a sex change before attending is not obligatory." Charlie was promptly rewarded for his witticism with chuckles and subdued laughter. Meanwhile, the big man had returned to the hall, having gotten rid of the box, and on his way past us he made a point to inquire: "What's so funny, girls?" "Well, it's... none of your goddamn business, actually," Jake replied with a grin on his new pretty face. "I second that," Charlie said. "Tsk, tsk!" the fake man said, looking sternly at us and Jake in particular. "That's no way to speak to your friends. A few more of those mean little comments, and one of us is going to spend a couple of weeks more getting in touch with his inner woman. That's what we agreed, right, Willow dearest?" "What's the matter?" "Angel" asked, casually entering the scene of our brewing conflict. "Something wrong, Riley?" "Nah," Jake's tormentor answered. "The girls were just being a little bitchy to me, especially Willow. Must be that very special time of month again." The synthetic men shared a laugh and then thankfully left us alone. "So," Jake reopened the discussion, "they got you too, Mike." "Yeah," I said. "Even though I tried to warn you. How?" "You may not believe this, but my sister talked me into it. I must have gone crazy at some point in my life, but I swear I didn't know better to resist." "Come on," Jake laughed. "Where's your fighting spirit? At least they had to play a really dirty trick on me to get me to wear this suit. Tina and Kathy came to our house three days ago, and they had one of those big black plastic bags with them, you know, sort of like those people put garbage and other stuff in. I asked what was in the bag, and they said they had brought my costume for the party and it was time for me to try it on. Then they explained that the costume was going to be a big surprise and they wanted me to step into it while it was still in the bag, and so they held the bag open and I undressed and did as they told me to." "So you stripped naked in front of them?" "That's beside the point. Anyway, I had no idea what the costume was like and when I found out, I had already been transformed into whatever and whoever I'm now. Finally they told me to come and stay at Tina's for the rest of the time before tonight. Those little... um, witches made me wear girls' clothes, tried to teach me how to put on makeup, how to talk, and all that feminine crap. Oh yes, and they made me watch at least six episodes of that cursed TV show every goddamn day! I've pretty much had it, Mike." "I'd estimate," Charlie said, "that he's about three hours of Whedon- penned quality entertainment away from complete mental breakdown." "Try two," Jake corrected. "Or more likely one, if that abominable musical thing is included! Sweet Jesus! Nobody should be made to suffer through something like that. It's inhumane! I mean, I even hate musicals in general, and then..." "As for what happened to me," Charlie began, "those two also showed up at my door and gave me this bodysuit. They said the same thing about me having to try it on. I was puzzled, to put it mildly, but agreed finally. I couldn't possibly expect the suit to be able to do something like this, literally turn you into another person. When it had happened and I was frozen in shock, buck naked and staring at my own reflection in a mirror, Kathy came up with a bad pun." "Actually," Jake injected, "it wasn't quite that bad. Go on, tell him." Charlie sighed and went on, "Right. Anyway, she said, 'I guess this makes you Cordially invited!' They must have laughed for five minutes straight. For my part, I didn't find it all that funny, not even when they told me my new name and clued me in on the joke." "He was then kidnapped as well," Jake continued. "They brought him to Tina's house and started humiliating both of us together. It was like some sicko summer camp. Charlie had to dress up as a cheerleader and practice in the backyard. He had pompoms and everything. You should have seen it, man!" "Not to mention you," Charlie added sharply, "sleeping with a teddy bear and pink pajamas on." "Well, anyway, it was dreadful. You probably know, Mike." "I don't know and I'm glad." "By the way," Charlie said suddenly, "why weren't you there? Did you make a deal with them or something? Traitor, bet you sold out!" "No; I didn't have to make any deals with anyone. I was tutored at home, if you catch my drift." "And so was I," Scott pointed out. "Since everybody's sharing their experiences, I guess I might do that too," he continued. "Frankly, it wasn't all that bad for me." "So, you liked it then?" Jake asked bemusedly. "Jeez, I can understand our old pervy Mike enjoying being transformed into a girl, but you! Aren't you too straight for that?" "Come on, I just, like, so totally love my character and my, like, clothes and makeup and, like, stuff!" Scott exclaimed in an overly excited tone, making it clear that he was merely applying some of his trademark sarcasm to the conversation. "And I've, like, got this totally perky little body. Don't you like being, like, girls and stuff, guys? After all this is over, we'll, like, hit the town and pick up, like, all the cute boys, okay? And stuff?" "Good Lord!" Charlie breathed. "They've created a monster!" "Uh, seriously speaking," Scott said and chuckled at his own joke, "I got off pretty easily because I know how to handle Sammy. It's all about tactics. All you've got to do is pretend you're letting her have her way, and the moment she turns her back, you do as you like. About five minutes into the first lesson, Sammy said that my character is the sister of your character, Mike, but she's not actually her sister, and she's just a ball of energy and she's not really human but she is also human, and on top of that, a key to something. After that, I gave up on even trying to understand anything and just let her drone on and on. I just nodded every once in a while." "We had pop quizzes," Charlie pointed out. "Can you believe that?" "I feel your pain," Scott quipped. "Maybe you couldn't fake enthusiasm well enough. Anyway, Sammy kept on telling me all this psychedelic mumbo-jumbo and every now and then she asked me how I liked being a girl. I always lied and said I really loved it, and she was happy." "She's not the sharpest knife in the drawer, am I right?" Jake said. "Not so loud," I reprimanded him. "She might hear, and then we're in trouble." "As if we weren't already," Charlie commented. "Still, there may be something positive on the horizon. With any luck, that beer case the girls are currently handling over there is just waiting for us to dig in." "I hate to crush your dreams," Scott said, "but it's non-alcoholic beer." "What?" Jake exclaimed in disbelief. "What do you mean, non-alcoholic?" "Yeah. This is an alcohol-free party. I heard Sammy and Tina talk about the drinks earlier today." "Unbelievable." "Don't despair, friends. Guess what? I managed to have a little without Sammy noticing before we left home and I smuggled some hard liquor here, plus a six pack of beer. It's available to us all later. Besides, alcohol works incredibly well when you're an inexperienced teen girl. Maybe I ought to do this more often. I'd save heaps of money." "Scott," Jake said smiling widely, "you're a lifesaver. We owe you big time for this! Now there's a possibility that we might actually have some fun tonight!" "Indeed, fun without alcohol is always pretending," I added philosophically. "Not when you're high on some really good weed," Charlie corrected me. "You, of course, know that from personal experience, so I can't argue with you." There was a short pause in our conversation after my last remark. It felt necessary to take the situation in. More than anything else, I attempted to come to terms with the fact that these beautiful young women, who all looked identical to Hollywood starlets, were my transformed best friends, and I suppose the others had their share of trouble trying to do the same. It was almost comical to sit around quite casually in a female body and chat with my buddies who had ended up in the same strange condition. However, it is safe to say that nothing could have prepared us for what was about to happen next. The door suddenly opened, and in strutted a girl with dark brown hair in her late teens or early 20s. Throwing her blue denim jacket aside, she revealed a black top that left a bit of her midriff bare; this was complemented by dark boot-cut leather pants and boots similar to the ones I was wearing. She had a pretty face, large dark eyes and slightly overdone makeup. A contented smile on her luscious lips, adorned with deep red lipstick, indicated that she was happy at how we had reacted to her dramatic entrance. "Hi, everyone," she purred, directing the greeting primarily towards the fake men. "Did I miss anything?" "No," "Spike" answered and smiled at her, evidently glad to see her. "You're just in time, Faith, but we're not quite ready here yet. The other girls are over there, if you like to keep them company." "I'll do that. Great to see you, Spike," she said and kissed the fake man on the cheek. "What the fuck?" Charlie blurted out. His three words summed up our thoughts perfectly. "Faith" then walked to us, bringing a strong scent of an unknown perfume with her. All her movements were graceful and smooth, completely unlike my awkward wobbling. It was hard to believe this wasn't a natural born female, so hard in fact that I thought one of the real girls had broken the crossdressing rule. She gave us a mischievous smile and sat down on the arm of the couch. It was only then that logic forced me to accept this conclusion: she had to be Larry Simmons, no matter how improbable it seemed. "Larry? Is that you?" I asked without even trying to hide my amazement. "The name's Faith," the girl replied in a sassy manner. "How's it going, guys?" "No, really, is that you?" "Are you serious or just trying to piss me off, huh?" she snapped. "Have you hit your head or something, Buffy? Vamps been giving you a hard time recently? You, of all people, supposedly can't remember me! Okay, so we had these little disagreements, I kind of went to the dark side and hung out with the Mayor and all that stuff, but that's no reason to pretend you don't even know me anymore." "No, I---" "The knife? Remember that? The way you tried to kill me because you needed my blood to save your lay and put me in a coma in the process? Any of this ring a bell? Yeah, and of course I had that little payback thing, but hey, bygones are bygones. I won't start anything here if you won't." "What?" "Great. This is like having a conversation with a brick wall." "Seriously," Charlie tried, "is that you? Are you Larry?" "Nice talking to ya," the girl said sarcastically and stood up. Wasting no time, she sashayed over to the stereo crew and helped them empty the contents of a small black box--a few CDs--on the table. "I don't know how you can put up with those dimwits, Xander," she commented to one of the fake men. "They're total idiots. Two of them ask mindless questions over and over again while the other two just sit by and gawk. The earth is pretty doomed, if you ask me." The person she had spoken to didn't say anything in reply. He was too busy sorting the CDs. Finally the preparations were almost over--even the stereo had been connected to a power source at long last--and "Spike" walked into the middle of the floor, cleared his throat and announced proudly: "Welcome, everybody. I'm glad to see you could all come and attend this little party of ours. For the next few hours, we will no longer be in Greensville and answer to our 'real' names. All that will fade to the background. This is Sunnydale, California, and we have different identities, different thoughts, different lives. We get to experience roleplaying at its very best." He looked around and smiled, undoubtedly pleased and excited. Not everyone shared his enthusiasm, though; Jake's frown was so intense that he actually managed to make "Willow's" face look ugly, which had to be considered an achievement in its own right. All the other "men", and "Faith", had stood up and were now listening to the chief party organizer. I wondered if "Spike" was actually Joanna. According to what Kate had told me, she was usually the driving force behind these events. "There are a lot of newcomers around this time," he continued. "You have never had the chance to enjoy this before. I hope you can push your prejudices and unnecessary inhibitions aside and throw yourselves into the game. Thank you." "Hear, hear!" the men shouted and some of them applauded. To add some mock dramatic effect to the situation, "Spike" even bowed to his audience. Still smiling happily, he then went over to the others to discuss something. "Sunnydale, California," Jake mused. "It's only one letter different from Sunnyvale, California. I bet the guy who created this goddamn Buffy thing got his inspiration while he was spending some time there." "What's in Sunnyvale?" Scott inquired. "A big mental institution, for example," I answered. "Who knows, we might end up there too." "I don't think that's very likely," Charlie argued. "Agnews State Mental was closed down a few years ago, or they're at least closing it down soon, and to be precise, it's in Santa Clara, not Sunnyvale. Besides, there's no need to take us all the way down to the People's Republic of California to be committed. There are lots of funny farms closer to Greensville." "Just how the hell do you know all that, Chuck?" I asked him. "Are you interested in mental hospitals in general?" "Of course I am, Mike," he said with a playful smile. "It's always prudent to find out about the places where you might be spending the rest of your life." "And, thanks to these lovely young ladies," Jake said, pointing at the fake men with his thumb, "the probability of us being committed for life is now a great deal higher than it used to be." "Something to drink, fellows?" Scott suggested. "Later," Jake decided. "As I was saying, we'll pay the price sooner or later. In the end they'll take us away like my uncle. He wasn't exactly cooperative when the men in white came for him. I happened to be on a visit at his place and got to witness the whole episode." "Right," I said, suddenly remembering parts of the story. "Wasn't he the guy with the Freemason Conspiracy obsession?" "That, and a slew of other things. Chemtrails, Black Helicopters, the Rosicrucians, the Reptilians, New World Order, you name it. He had them all and more. No vampires or demons, though." "Oh, him," Charlie chimed in. "You used to tell us about his ravings sometimes. He tried to buy an old German machine gun just before being committed, didn't he?" "Yes, he did, but the gun was Russian, not German. It was a Goryunov gun from World War Two, previously owned by some shady weapons collector acquaintance of his. He had somehow gotten---" "Girls, girls!" "Riley" interrupted us. "Let the poor man rest in peace and forget about German machine guns." "Russian," Jake corrected. "Or actually Soviet, if you---" "Whatever. Just make sure your stakes are sharp and you have your holy water and crucifixes handy. That's all you need to worry about as far as weapons are concerned." Jake opened his mouth to protest, but before he could say anything more and make his situation worse, "Spike" spoke up again. "Okay, everyone, here's the deal now. As you all probably remember, we were supposed to do a couple of scenarios set in Season Three, but then I realized we would run out of suitable skins and someone would have to come as themselves since there are now twice as many of us as usual. Tina wanted to play Riley, but because we had already agreed that Kathy would be Oz, I decided to move the timeframe to Season Four. Even though Faith and Oz weren't in the same episodes then, you know, with her being in coma for the most part of the year and him leaving Sunnydale, that wouldn't have been a major problem. I wanted to have Tara and Anya since that would've offered us canonical and all around better stories to work with, plus I think Charlie would be an ideal choice to play Anya..." "Was that an insult or a compliment?" Charlie injected. His remark went unnoticed by "Spike", however. "...but that idea fell through because the Tara and Anya skins weren't available. Mandy needed to do some maintenance work on them after the debacle we had two months ago. However, she promised they'd be ready by the next session, whenever that'll be. So we had to take Cordy and Dawn instead." He paused for a short while, probably to collect his thoughts, before continuing: "To top this all off, Kathy caught a cold and can't join us tonight, so we won't have Oz at all. I heard it's nothing serious and she's probably getting better as we speak, but still it's too bad. I guess all this means that we're stuck with characters who haven't been on the show at the same time and aren't maybe even supposed to know each other officially. So, we obviously can't follow any of the actual storylines as such. What we need to do is improvise and stretch the envelope a little, you know, mix elements from different seasons. Luckily I've been able to come up with a couple of stories we can try. Basically they take place around Season Five, but Angel and Cordy are visiting Sunnydale from L.A. for some reason and a few regulars are temporarily out of town. If and when we do something that's set in earlier times, we'll always assume this is the illusory timeline where Dawn has existed as Buffy's sister all along. If you folks just bear with me, I'm sure we can make this work. Xander, did you bring the masks?" "Sure thing. In that plastic bag over there." "Good. If necessary, some of us can double as demons using the masks. They're just ordinary Halloween stuff, made of rubber. We should also have some spare clothes for the bad guys." "I think we'd better go over the basic rules once more before we start," "Angel" suggested. "Just to make sure we're all on the same page." "Yeah, absolutely," "Spike" concurred. "Okay. The idea is to be safe and have fun at the same time, so there are a couple of standing game rules. First off, whenever we have a fight scene, it's in slow motion. You're allowed to make slight contact, but only so the other person knows you're landing a punch or kick on them." "And as for the romantic content, another vital ingredient of Buffyverse..." "Angel" continued with a smirk. "There's a rule for that too. Pretend kissing, hugging and holding hands are allowed. If everybody gives their consent, we can agree it's also okay to kiss for real. What do you think, guys?" "Let's not kiss for real," Charlie piped up. "No, let's!" "Faith" countered him. "Where's the fun in not being even allowed to kiss other people? Come on, how about knocking down some of those prejudices and inhibitions that got mentioned just now?" "We can't allow things not everybody is cool with," "Angel" said. "I'm cool with everything, and everybody," "Faith" declared. "I guess we could compromise," "Spike" said after a brief pause. "We let the game take its own course, and when we get to a romantic situation, two persons can kiss if they both feel it's okay." "And there's also the safety word," "Xander" pointed out helpfully. "You just say 'red light' to let the others know you're not comfortable." "That's right," "Angel" confirmed. "Thanks for bringing it up." "What, a safety word?" "Faith" exclaimed. "Safety words are for wussies!" "Maybe, but they're good to have," "Spike" said to her. "Regardless, and aside, I've got to say I really like your dedication and character immersion there. If everybody is up to your standard, this will be the best session we've ever had." Reveling in the compliment, "Faith" broke into a wide, somewhat smug smile. My eyes met with hers momentarily, and I was taken aback by what I thought I saw: she was genuinely happy and excited, to be sure, but underneath there seemed to lie a streak of equally genuine malice, waiting for an opportunity to surface. Then she looked away, at the others, denying me another candid view of her true emotions; but the mental image of her staring at me pointedly and coldly in the middle of this supposedly relaxed, safe and fun party atmosphere remained with me for a long time afterwards. "Oh, and one more thing," "Spike" hastened to add. "Let's try to limit the language to PG-13 or thereabouts. Profuse swearing is in general not nice, and it's out of place on Buffy, anyway. Puns and witty comebacks are of course always strongly encouraged, but keep them obscenity-free if possible." "I guess that pretty much covers all the important areas," "Angel" said. "If you have anything to ask, you can---" "I have," Scott interrupted. "Can we go home now?" "No," "Xander" replied sharply and flashed a less than friendly grin at him. "Let's have no more of that from you, okay? You know what happens if you start causing trouble, Dawnie." "And I'm thinking there are a few others here who'd do well to pay heed to that warning," "Riley" commented. Before tension could rise, "Spike" declared that in keeping with the girls' tradition, we would have an icebreaker moment before the game proper. The first part consisted of arranging all the participants in a circle, and then everyone was supposed either to shake hands or hug everyone else in a continuous train. "You can do whichever you like," he advised. "Remember, we're not yet in character here, just greeting and welcoming everybody to the game." I had ended up opposite to my sister, so I extended my hand to her, but she promptly pulled me into an affectionate hug. My heart skipped a beat or two because of the surprise, but fortunately she didn't exaggerate the gesture or squeeze me with too much force. "Good to have you here, bro," she said encouragingly as we parted and patted me on the shoulder. Even though I admittedly felt self-conscious, the others seemed to view the whole ritual as par for the course, especially the fake men, who without exception hugged each other as they went. After "Angel", I shook hands with "Xander", then "Spike", then Charlie, Jake, "Riley"--and then I got to "Faith", who had a wide smile on her lips. Again, I offered my hand, but she suddenly jumped forward and also hugged me, not bothering to ask for my consent. Her arms held me tightly against her body, and she whispered into my ear, "Give us a kiss!" "Hey, you're not supposed to be in character," I reminded her, but she simply let me go, winked at me and moved on as though nothing had happened. There was only Scott left for me to greet, and so we shook hands in a comically overstated fashion. "Give us a kiss, man!" he intoned in as low-pitched a voice as he could now muster in a mockery of "Faith". "Give us a kiss!" "Sure, but no tongue on a first date," I replied in kind. Jake and Charlie snickered at this, but some of the looks we received from the other people in the room were not all that appreciative. "Good, now we've all said hello to each other," "Spike" said. "On to the second part. Next, we'll put a chair in the middle of the floor, and we all sit there in turn. You are asked a few questions by the others, and everyone can participate. You're supposed to answer as your character so you get a feel for how to play them in the actual session. We're not testing your trivia knowledge, so if you don't remember some monster's name or a plot point from an episode, it's alright. You can just make things up, but you need to stay true to the general spirit of Buffy as well as be convincing, meaning you have to make everyone believe you are your character. Don't be nervous; enjoy and improvise as necessary. Just so you all remember, the time is slightly after Season Four or very early into Season Five, and of course Dawn's there, like we agreed." "Xander" picked up a vacant chair from the table and placed it directly in front of the couch, while the rest of the fake men, together with "Faith", occupied both the couch and an armchair next to it. For our part, my formerly male friends and I stood aside, quietly hoping to avoid the whole ordeal. "Who goes first?" "Xander" asked. "I will," "Spike" volunteered, "so the newcomers see how this works." He sat on the chair, ready to be grilled by the rest of us. "Here we go," "Angel" said. "What did you do last year, and what was it like for you overall?" "I did plenty, mate," "Spike" chortled and leaned back on the chair. In a heartbeat, he had assumed the essential mannerisms and the speaking style of his character, an achievement that spoke volumes of Joanna's dedication to roleplaying and Buffy--and also something my friends and I could never match. "Let's see. A year ago I was still myself and evil, still on the prowl for some nice fresh blood--but that changed. When I was out one night, minding my own business, I got kidnapped by an assortment of military types, and the next thing I knew I was locked up in a laboratory like some sodding guinea pig. The splendid blokes put a chip in my head, and now I can't hurt a human being no matter how much I try. Oh, and there also was this little episode when a certain witch, who shall remain anonymous, cast a spell that made me fell in love with someone I usually detest, but we agreed not to discuss that so my lips are sealed." Both "Spike" and "Riley" eyed first Jake and then me inquiringly for a second or two, as though to see if the story might cause a reaction in either of us, but as I was not sure what "Spike" had been referring to and Jake seemed lost in thought and temporarily all but oblivious to his surroundings, none was forthcoming. "Do you think things changed for the better or the worse for you?" "Xander" asked "Spike". "In the beginning, it definitely was for the worse. They had pulled out my teeth out and made me a bloody nancy boy. But now--I learned that you don't need to be able to bite humans or bash their heads in to have fun. And by that, I don't mean just watching Passions on the telly." He let out a small laugh and mimed lighting a cigarette. "What are you up to next?" "You never know what's coming when you're dealing with me. A little excitement here, a little mayhem there; that keeps life interesting. I'm full of surprises, aren't I?" This performance was so impressive that the "men" and "Faith" gave "Spike" a small applause. He broke his character, smiled widely and moved back onto the couch. "Buffy," "Xander" called to me, much to my horror and dismay, "why don't you go next. It's sort of fitting, with you being the star of the whole thing." "Seconded!" "Angel" agreed. "Come on, sweetheart, and show us what you've got!" "Shit," I grumbled quietly to myself and walked up to the chair. Sitting down, I felt awkward and exposed under the eyes of the party organizers, and was fully aware that I was headed for an experience that would be embarrassing in one way or another. "Well," "Spike" said, "let's ask you the same questions, Buffy. Could you tell us, in a few words, something about the last year in Sunnydale from your perspective and what is happening in your life now?" My tongue seemed to knot up. "Um," I began, searching for words, "I've been busy; fighting vampires and demons and... that sort of thing." "Any events in particular that you'd like to share?" "Xander" prodded me and smiled. He and the others were clearly trying to encourage me, but their effort was all but wasted. Nearly everything I had known about the Buffy universe before Kate's lessons (which admittedly wasn't very much) as well as the new facts she had managed to make me assimilate had simply evaporated from my brain, and I could only make feeble attempts at coming up with something sensible. "There was this ventriloquist's dummy demon thing, and... an insect monster that lived in the sewers with... a group of followers or something who... plotted to eat the high school students at our graduation, and... who blew up the steel mill and collected body parts to build a cybernetic zombie but... I burned their nest with... napalm. I think." "Angel" let out a weary sigh, and the other "men" gave me blank looks. I had earned a failing grade for my efforts before the game had even begun. "Your memory seems to have mixed stuff up a little," "Xander" remarked. "Were there any really memorable occasions when you were left, for example, you know... totally speechless?" He emphasized the last two words, clearly offering me a hint, but it took me until after the icebreaker to figure out what he meant. "Besides right now?" I asked back. "Who was the biggest and worst evil being you had to face?" "The Mayor." "Wasn't that the year before the last, Buffy?" "Angel" offered. "I don't know," I confessed. "Maybe. It's all very confusing to me." "Looks that way," "Xander" said. "Okay, what about the romance department? Any love interests in sight?" "Love interests?" "As in boyfriends," he explained patiently. "Who are you dating?" "No one much." "Not even me?" "Riley" tried to help. "I... I decline to divulge that information." "Fine. By the way, have you had any run-ins with another Slayer recently?" "Not that I recall," I said, still with some hesitation. "There was a certain brown-haired type from a while back that I remember, though, and not very fondly." "Speaking of Faith, she's here tonight," "Spike" pointed out, and the person mentioned smiled and briefly waved to an imaginary adoring audience like a movie star. "How do you feel about her? Is there anything you'd like to say to her?" I bit my lip, trying to filter and reject some of the ideas that immediately occurred to me, but I couldn't completely resist the temptation in the end. What came out of my mouth was actually worse than most of the replies I had thought of at first and then censored. "I guess I shouldn't be too hard on her," I said finally, shrugging my shoulders. "After all, she is basically what happens when your parents don't give you enough attention when you're a child." I knew full well this would hit a nerve, not only with Faith the character but also with Larry the real person, and in hindsight, it would have been infinitely better to leave the comment unsaid. However, it was too late to take it back, and the consequences were not long in coming. "While we're at that," "Faith" retorted acidly, "how about a couple of words about spoiled little princesses who have everything and who just complain how the world is so unfair because they occasionally have to get off of their privileged, lazy butts to do something to help others? Or backstabbing bitches who are willing to kill off, literally, the only person in the world who is like them to save the supposed love of their lives, just to dump the guy the second the next beefcake stud comes along?" "I don't know anyone who fits that description." "Oh, you don't?" she sneered. "Better take a gander in the mirror then, honey. Tell me, does---" "Alright, I think that's enough," "Angel" interrupted us gently but firmly. "Buffy, thank you very much for your... insights. Who's up next?" "Me!" Scott offered. "This sounds like fun!" "Okay, sure," "Spike" agreed. "The stage's all yours." I slunk to rejoin my friends, who were still standing beside the wall and quietly following the proceedings, while Scott, in his turn, took the seat in the middle of the room. I could clearly see from the glint in his eyes and his little smirk that there was some exquisite, not to mention subversive, situation comedy to come. "Dawn," "Spike" began, "nice to have you here. To start with, would you mind telling us what the past year was like for you. Was there anything, any event or person, that really stood out?" "The past year? Yeah, it was... it was reasonably good, all things considered. A couple of strange incidents aside, that is." "How so?" "Riley" prompted. "Please explain." "Well, there was this little scene on Christmas Eve when Mom strangled my dear pet hamster Smallpox with duct tape," he explained with a perfect deadpan look on his face. "She was sick and tired of the way he was always stuffing his cheeks with things, and one day she just couldn't take it anymore, with the goddamn rodent constantly grinning at her from his cage. Bless her heart, she's doing a bang up job." A heavy silence followed, with the synthetic men staring at Scott and then at each other. "Buffy and me visit Mom every week at the psych ward at Sunnydale General," he went on after no one else had said anything for a few seconds. "The doctors keep telling us---" "On a tangent," "Xander" interjected, "how's your relationship with your sister these days?" "Oh, we get along fine. Especially since she stopped beating me with a curtain rod and I stopped pissing in her orange juice every morning." Jake let out a muffled burst of laughter, and "Spike" commented in a tentative manner, "Uh, it's... nice to hear things are going great at 1630 Revello Drive." He was obviously unsure whether to be amused or angry at Scott; "Xander's" face, on the other hand, showed much less ambiguity in this respect. He may have looked nothing like Sammy right then, but the way he furrowed his brow, clenched his jaw and narrowed his eyes was undoubtedly Sammy's, as was his marginal tolerance for Scott's brand of humor. "Anyway, what kind of things do you think are going to happen to you in the future?" "Let me put it this way," Scott said. "Or better yet--can I explain it with a metaphor? Right. There were these two rotten eggs, you see, walking together on a road. Then, out of nowhere, a space elephant came along, and what do you know--he stepped on one of the eggs and crushed it! And then he stepped on the other egg as well. That's how it goes with space elephants. He squashed both of the eggs, and that was that." "We don't get it," "Riley" declared. "My point exactly," Scott said with a triumphant smile. "Whatever," "Spike" continued. "If you think about the way Buffy and her friends usually treat you, do you feel it's---" "That one's best answered with a joke," Scott interrupted him. "This is a good one too! Right, so, these three pedophiles walk into a bar, and the first one says---" "We talked about this, remember?" "Xander" exclaimed in anger, no longer able to stay in character. "You promised to play along! And I've told you like three million times already that your pedophile jokes are not funny!" "They are funny too!" Scott argued. "No, they're disgusting! Why can't you behave as well as you did when I was training you?" "Uh, looks like this is not really working," "Spike" said. "Conference time, people." He headed for the door and went outside, followed by "Riley" and "Xander". "Angel" also got up and then turned towards us with a very no-nonsense look on his face. "Guys," he said in a serious voice, "let's try to behave ourselves. I know full well you are all embarrassed and insecure because of your new bodies and you want your precious boy parts back, but just for a couple of hours, play along, will you? Do you have any idea how hard we have worked to make this evening happen? Joanna in particular has busted her ass doing the preparations so that we could have a good time. So, it would be great if you could consider her feelings." Of course, Kate was right; but then again, we had been tricked into coming and crossdressing, I thought. Luckily I was smart enough not to say it out loud, and the others stayed quiet as well. "Try and be a little more supportive of her efforts, okay? We can listen to some music, eat and drink after this short session is over. Then we all go home, and you get to be men again and wallow in testosterone all you want. I promise." Without staying to listen to our mumbled responses, Kate turned around and walked out after "Spike" and "Riley". "He's got a point there," "Faith" commented and sneered at us. "Better start acting nice, 'cause being a jerk just might come back to bite you." "What's that supposed to mean?" Charlie asked her, but she had already gone out the door shaking his shapely feminine butt. He was probably off to have a huddle with the rest of the girls, I thought. "I'm going to get some fresh air as well," Scott said. "You coming, Mike?" "Sounds tempting," I replied. Scott winked at Charlie and Jake who promptly got the message and followed us. There was hardly any daylight left outside. The sky had been overcast since late afternoon, and the air was getting chilly. Nevertheless, especially considering what we were wearing, it wasn't as cold as I had thought. Despite the clouds there was not supposed to be any rain, according to the weather forecast, and I was sincerely hoping the forecast would turn out to be correct. Being confined indoors for the rest of the evening could be a little too much to bear. Scott led me and the others along the side of the house to a corner, the one farthest away from the main door. Here the forest ended only a few yards from the building. Since this spot was not visible through any of the windows of the house and the trees obstructed the view from the beach, it was ideally suitable for hiding some of Scott's "refreshments". Proving my theory right, there was indeed a large bottle of Vat 69 hidden in the long grass beside the basement. Scott picked it up, took the cap off and gulped down a good sip. The girl he had been transformed into twisted her cute face and coughed lightly. Then, with her lips curving up in a wide smile, "Dawn" exclaimed, "Oh boy! That sure is good stuff. How about you, Mike? You want some?" "Definitely," I said and took the bottle as Scott handed it to me. "Me too!" Jake injected. "Me three," Charlie added. Although I generally regarded having sharper senses as a benefit, the first taste of a strong alcoholic drink was not a very pleasant experience. The stinging liquid burned my delicate throat and almost made my eyes water up. Yet, when I had swallowed it all successfully, the Scotch began to warm me up nicely, as it always did. I proceeded to hand the bottle to Jake who also wet his throat and then passed it on to Charlie. "Thanks, man," Jake squeaked out. "I owe you one. We all do." "It's alright," Scott said. "There's plenty to go around. Too bad I've forgotten where I put the beer and the other bottle." "Maybe you'll remember that later," Charlie comforted him. "Let's go inside, guys. It's damn freezing out here in these clothes." To make sure the girls would not notice our little excursion, we started making us way back indoors immediately, trying to move as quietly as possible. Scott's observation of alcohol having a powerful effect on his new Dawn body was most likely accurate, I thought as I watched him walk. He was wearing a pair of sneakers as opposed to my boots or Charlie's sandals, but he was already teetering a little on every step, and his breath smelled of spirits. We would have to look after him, especially if he intended to keep coming back to his little stash. We managed to get inside safely enough and settled again on the couch, but it was close; hardly had we started our conversation anew than the door flew open. Much sooner than expected, the girls, led by "Spike", came into the house like a posse entering a saloon in an old Western, and we four stood up instinctively. Holding a large empty soda bottle in his hand, he proclaimed, "See this bottle here, guys? Good. You've got exactly two options. Either we have a nice and productive Buffy the Vampire Slayer roleplay session, starting now, or alternatively we can play Seven Minutes in Heaven. You have to kiss on the lips, and we'll go on until everyone has made out heavily at least once with somebody. No excuses accepted. Plus you might get to keep those skins on a tiny bit longer than originally planned, say... until Christmas." He looked triumphant and self-assured, and the rest of his crew had assembled behind him in poses so determined that the scene was bordering on comedy. I turned my head to see the faces of my formerly male friends; every one of them had paled a shade or two. "Spike's" threat might not have been all that serious, but we knew that it was probably a good idea to humor him and the others, instead of letting the party devolve into some sort of a humiliation marathon. "Well, Buffy?" "Angel" asked me. "How's it going to be?" All eyes were now on me, as if I were for whatever reason supposed to decide and speak for Jake, Charlie, Scott and myself. "I guess we can roleplay," I said slowly, waiting to see if anyone would object. "As long as everybody keeps their hands to themselves." "An excellent choice!" "Spike" commented and smiled widely. "Good girls! Now, let's get the show started!" He picked up a bunch of papers--presumably his script and notes for the session--that had been strewn across the dinner table, with "Angel" and "Xander" looking intently over his shoulder. "Faith" rejoined us together with "Riley", who sat down on the couch with his legs spread excessively far apart. Giving us a lewd smile, he pretended to scratch his crotch and sighed, "Oh, feels so good to be a guy! You can do things like this, and nobody looks at you funny!" His point wasn't entirely lost on me and my friends, but we did our best to ignore him. "Faith", on the other hand, let out a laughter in reward of his sad attempt at combining humor with social commentary. Suddenly there was a sharp knock on the door. I almost jumped up in the air, but then it dawned on me that I had been given a respite from both Tina's gender role critique and the impending play session where I would be badly out of my element. I walked to the door, saying, "I'll get it!" It was not until I had my hand on the doorknob that I realized I was probably making a huge mistake. Letting outsiders in on this little secret was certainly not smart, but then again, someone had to answer the door. Whoever was there had to know that there were people in this house, and it was much too late to put out all the lights and pretend otherwise. So I turned the knob and pushed the door open. I had thought the person or people who had knocked would be far more surprised than me, but what actually happened was much the opposite. There were four kids, all in Halloween costumes, standing on the doorstep with plastic bags in their hands. Judging by their size, they were hardly older than seven or eight. Their faces were covered with oversized masks of various monsters or scary beings--there was a werewolf, a bald-headed man, a dinosaur of some kind and a creature resembling a gorilla but otherwise unknown to me--which was proof positive that they were boys. All the little girls in this town always went as princesses and witches. I was relieved; they were almost certainly too young to have ever watched Buffy, and so they would see me only as some generic "big girl". "Trick or treat!" they shouted at the top of their lungs. Of course, we had no candy reserved for kids, and it seemed that we now had a problem on our hands. I called, "Um, Kate? Could you come here for a sec?" "Angel" walked up to me. The boys were a little intimidated by his large figure; upon seeing him, three of them froze and one took a quick step back. "Oh, alright," "Angel" said. "The little monsters want bonbons. Too bad there may be none here, but if you'll wait, I'll go and see if I can find something." As soon as he had left, "Faith" came to the door, also interested to find out what was going on. To my surprise, she suddenly bent down and gushed, "Aww, how cute! Little boys trying to scare people! Come inside!" "We... can't," the one in the werewolf mask stuttered. "Daddy says we can't." "Nonsense!" "Faith" said. "We're fresh out of candy, but there's something else we could give you." Her words were met with an expectant, curious silence. "A big wet smooch for each of you! I bet you all have sweet, kissable lips under those masks! Don't you think so too, Buffy?" "Yeah," I said, playing along. "Sure." "In fact," she continued, "you came just in time for our kissing game. There are both boys and girls here, and we..." The boys couldn't take any more. They ran off incredibly fast, screaming loudly as they went. "Poor guys," I chuckled. "It seems the trick-or-treaters got tricked." "Too bad they weren't a little older," "Faith" commented. "Still, we could've had some fun with them. Imagine them wearing skirts and dresses and makeup. Wouldn't that be adorable?" "Depends on what you mean by adorable," I said. "If you think transvestism in preteen kids qualifies, then I suppose you're right, Larry." "The name is Faith," she corrected sharply. Meanwhile, the fake men had gathered near the dining table to have another quick conference. By the time I had closed the main door and rejoined the others, they seemed to have reached an agreement; they all nodded and muttered affirmative replies to something one of them had apparently just suggested. Then "Spike" announced to everyone, "Guys, listen up. We originally had a couple of guideline scripts prepared for the roleplay, but chances are they won't work with this cast. You need more than only a rough idea of what the Buffyverse is all about to pull them off, and there are a few people here who don't exactly fit that bill. Usually the scripts would've been doable, but not now. I guess I was being too optimistic when I was planning tonight's session." He cast a significant look at me and my friends. "But that doesn't mean we're giving up," he continued. "Instead of anything even loosely scripted, we decided to take a risk and try a completely ad-libbed game story. All you need to do is stay true to your character and keep in mind we're in early Season Five. Since Dawn has made it clear she's in the mood for doing silly stuff, let's start with a scenario where she's suddenly affected by a mysterious disease. We're at Buffy's house, and the Summers sisters are hanging out and relaxing when it happens. Just take it from there, guys, but remember what we said about swearing and the fight scenes and the safety word." "The stage is yours, ladies," "Riley" said and guided Scott and me to our marks, that is, next to the large window looking towards the lake. We were now expected to pretend that this was the Summers residence in Sunnydale and that we actually were the imaginary people who we looked like. I was badly out of my depth and once again completely devoid of sensible ideas of what to do. I had never acted on stage, apart from a few bit parts in elementary school plays (in our small school, almost every child had to participate, whether they wanted to or not), and I was under no delusions when it came to the very limited extent of my thespian talents. So, in hopes that someone else would take the lead, I looked nervously at Scott and waited for him to say or do something. There was a short and awkward silence, one of many that night--but then, as though by a miracle, the story started to unfold. INT. - SUMMERS RESIDENCE Buffy and Dawn are in the living room of the house. Dawn is looking out the window, daydreaming. DAWN You know what I'm thinking, Buffy? We should take some time off and leave for a vacation. BUFFY That sounds nice but we don't have the money. DAWN Can't we go somewhere inexpensive? Like the Baha California countryside, for instance. BUFFY Why on earth would you want to go there? DAWN It's got great scenery, the weather's warm, and there are all kinds of cute and fluffy animals, like cougars and rattlesnakes. We could eat rattlesnake every day, kind of like when we were still living in L.A. and Dad always used to go out to get us some roadkill for lunch. Jeez, I miss that. BUFFY Me too, but we're still not going to Mexico. I'm tied up with this demon killing thing here, and you've got school. DAWN Oh well. Guess we have to find something else to do then. Let's go eat traffic signs instead. BUFFY You're being kind of nonsensical, Dawn. DAWN I know. I'm all confused. It's the radio in my head; it's gone haywire again. (Singing) "How many special people change? / How many lives are living strange? / Where were you when..." Dawn suddenly climbs on the kitchen table and tries to jump through the window. Alarmed, Buffy grabs her by the pelvis to restrain her and pulls her back down. BUFFY Good God! You're out of control! Willow enters the kitchen. WILLOW Howdy, folks. What's going on here? BUFFY (Releases Dawn as she has calmed down somewhat) Her radio's malfunctioning. We need to get it back in working order, what with the Powerball lottery draw coming up and all that. WILLOW What radio? BUFFY The one the monks put in her head. She can actually predict the future by receiving psychic transmissions, at least when the thing works. WILLOW Oh, I see. And if she finds out the winning lottery numbers beforehand, you'll just...? BUFFY That's the plan, basically. We might finally make some use of her. DAWN (Slightly offended) I am useful too! Like the time when we tried to warn the Government about Pearl Harbor but they wouldn't listen. BUFFY That was 9/11, not Pearl Harbor. The one without the Imperial Japanese Navy, remember? DAWN Oh, okay. But they didn't listen to us anyway. Everybody always ignores me! (Abruptly excitedly again) Let's go eat traffic signs. BUFFY (To Willow) See what I mean? Now, help me take her to that electronics store in... um, Sherman Oaks. They can probably fix her. WILLOW Sure. It's a nice night for a walk. DAWN We're off to see the wizard! They leave the house together, with Buffy and Willow guiding Dawn. EXT. - STREET, NIGHT The three girls walk on the pavement, Dawn between the other two. DAWN By the way, we were planning a vacation, Buffy and me. Would you like to come too, Willow? WILLOW That sounds nice. Where are you guys going to go? DAWN Baha California. We'll build sand castles and eat rattlesnakes and traffic signs all day. BUFFY (Spots Faith in the distance) Speaking of rattlesnakes, there's one. WILLOW (Also sees Faith) Oh crap! Why did she have to show up now? As Buffy, Dawn and Willow walk on, Faith comes up to meet them until they are face to face. Buffy and Willow have trouble hiding their distaste for her; Dawn is more or less indifferent towards Faith. FAITH Well, well. Long time no see, my little friends. (Sizes up the others) What's cooking, B? There is no answer. FAITH Just blank stares all around and that's it? You know, this ain't how I imagined our reunion to be. I expected you guys to have a clever barb or two ready for me, or maybe even a righteous speech about how I shouldn't harm the innocent or how I need to repent and atone for my past misdeeds. Or is it that you're scared of what I might do this time? "Oh shit, we need to take her down for good before she starts making trouble again! We don't want her around!" Out of curiosity, folks, do you think a person can change? After what I've been through, I... (Trailing off, expecting the others to start arguing with her at any moment) The others still say nothing. Faith looks them over in something of a disappointment. FAITH Why so quiet? Cat got your tongue? BUFFY Alright. Do you know anything about fixing radios? FAITH Radios? No, why? BUFFY Well, you see, the tuner in Dawn's head has gone out of order, and we-- - FAITH What? The tuner in her head? Are you high or something? WILLOW (To Faith) Hey, I've got a deal proposition for you. FAITH A deal? Fine, let's hear it. WILLOW You stop bothering us, and we won't tip the Homeland Security people off about the fact that you sort of bent the truth with some of the details in your naturalization petition. How's that sound... Fatima? FAITH (Astonished, then angry) What the hell are you talking about? Seriously? I was born here! Was that some kind of racist--- DAWN (Erupting into song, cutting the others off) "Some day you will find me, caught beneath a landslii-i-ide..." BUFFY Calm down, Dawn! FAITH (Incredulous) Just what are you guys playing at? Have you all gone totally off your rockers, or what? DAWN (Still singing) "...in a champagne supernova in the sky-yy..." BUFFY (To Faith) Never mind her, she's just heterodyning. FAITH Hetero-what? BUFFY Uh, no time to explain. (To Dawn) Alright, sister dear. We need to get going. Buffy and Willow begin to haul Dawn away. Faith looks on in anger but does not follow them. FAITH Insult me, turn your backs and walk away, huh? Is that how you're going to handle this? You'll hear from me, you jerks! EXT. - OUTSIDE THE BRONZE, NIGHT Xander is pacing back and worth on the sidewalk near the entrance to the nightclub as the girls arrive. XANDER In case you were wondering, and I know you were, I'm waiting for Anya here. We were supposed to enjoy a nice evening out with some dancing and good-natured, wholesome adult fun, but turns out the club is closed tonight and she's nowhere to be seen and I don't know what the heck's going on and, sadly, I've once again proven myself to be the master of pathetic. As in if the X-Men needed a superhero whose superpower was being pathetic, I'd be a shoe-in for the job. WILLOW Actually, we weren't wondering, but thanks for the information anyway. XANDER So, having settled that--what's up with you guys? BUFFY Receiver issues. (Gestures at Dawn) We're taking her to an electronics store to fix her radio. DAWN Yeah! I'm totally off my rocker! Faith told us so. XANDER (Apprehensive) Faith? Is she back in town? BUFFY So it seems. We met her on our way here. XANDER Uh... What happened? WILLOW Nothing much. She tried to mouth off, but we put her in her place. XANDER How'd you deal with her? WILLOW We confused her. Luckily she's so simple-minded it didn't take much effort. BUFFY She always was all attitude and very little brain. Anyway, Xander, do you happen to have a motor vehicle at your disposal? We'd appreciate it if we could load this little problem onto a car and take her to the store directly. DAWN (Singing) "Can I ride with you in your BMW? / You can sail with me in my yellow submarine..." XANDER Sorry to disappoint you, but that's a negative because of circumstances beyond my control. Add one to the patheticness count. Regardless, I really don't get why you'd want to go to an electronics shop. Don't you think it would make more sense to take her to the G-Man instead? WILLOW The G-men? I didn't know the FBI had an office in this town. XANDER G-Man, as in Giles. The British librarian person with glasses and boring clothes. Could be described as a little stuffy. First name Rupert. Remember? BUFFY (After a short pause) Oh, right. Giles. WILLOW That G-Man. DAWN (Singing) "You need to find out, 'cause no one's gonna tell you what I'm on about..." XANDER I hate to say this, but I'm beginning to think Faith was kind of right about you guys being... uh, just a teeny weeny bit off your game. Maybe I'd better come with you, in case I can save the world. Or the day. Or at least be useful one way or another; gotta be, well, realistic here. BUFFY Good! We could use a hand. WILLOW Yep, the more the merrier. DAWN (Singing) "You need to find a way for what you want to say-yy..." Together, they continue the trip on foot. EXT. - NEAR THE CEMETERY, NIGHT The group of four is passing by the gates of the old town cemetery when movement is suddenly seen in the shadows under the trees. DAWN (Singing) "I'd like to be somebody else, and not know where I've been / I'd like to build myself a house out of plasticine..." XANDER Guys! I think I hear something. WILLOW Don't we all. BUFFY I bet the whole town's awake by now, thanks to Dawn's output. Not that she doesn't have a good taste in music, but it would be better for us if-- Angel steps out of the shadows, with Cordelia right behind him. XANDER (Slightly startled, with pretended casualness) Hello there. ANGEL Buffy. An expectant pause. Angel looks at Buffy, waiting for her to react somehow, but she is nonplussed at first, as is Willow. ANGEL Buffy? BUFFY (Desperately trying to sound convincing) Ah! It's you, my, uh, tragic love! What brings you to this neck of the woods? DAWN (Stops singing, looks at Angel and Cordelia) Is that you, John Wayne? Is this me? ANGEL (Concerned) Looks like things are going worse here than I thought. I hope we're not too late. XANDER Just so you know, this has been a pretty strange night so far, even by our standards. The ladies are behaving kinda unusually. Could be a spell or something--and I'd like to take the opportunity to make it crystal clear that Yours Truly is definitely not responsible. Oh, Faith also showed up again, from what they've told me, so we're in for some interesting times, methinks. ANGEL I'm afraid you're right. We have information that could be helpful. In case you haven't heard about it yet, Cordelia now has the gift of receiving visions, and--- DAWN We're both tuned in! (Singing) "Aa-ah, shake along with me!" ANGEL ---the one she got yesterday seemed to involve you guys, so we came here as soon as we could. Cordy? CORDELIA Huh? ANGEL Come on, tell them about the vision you had. CORDELIA What vision? XANDER I guess whatever it is that's messing with us, it's affecting every woman around. ANGEL (To Cordelia, emphatically and slowly) The vision you had. CORDELIA (Pretending to understand what the others are talking about) Oh, the vision. Right. The vision. (Pauses) What was it again? ANGEL (Lowering his voice) Are you drunk? CORDELIA No, but you people are making me wish I was. ANGEL As she was about to say, she saw in her vision a dark mist rising from the desert and settling over Sunnydale, where it choked people and turned them into ash. XANDER What do you think it means? ANGEL The basic meaning is easy enough to figure out. Some kind of evil force is focused on the Hellmouth and creeping into town. The mist in Cordy's vision formed a big vortex around Dawn, so the force is probably concentrating on her and seeking her out. Besides, an informant of ours called the office a couple of hours ago. She was driving on the highway about thirty miles from here and said she saw strange lights and smoke rising from behind a hill in the desert at sunset. That could be related to what's happening here. XANDER Okay. So, what's our game plan? ANGEL We need to do two things here, find out more and at the same time keep the force away from Dawn at all costs. Where are you taking her? WILLOW To an electronics shop in Sherman Oaks. ANGEL Why? BUFFY To fix the radio in her head, obviously. You've seen what she's like when it's malfunctioning. ANGEL (Incredulously) There's a radio in Dawn's head? What are you talking about? XANDER That pretty much was my reaction too. Anyway, I'm wondering if Faith showing up ties into this somehow. Do you know what she's been up to lately? ANGEL The brass at Wolfram and Hart hired her to kill me a while ago, but that backfired because she actually wanted me to kill her. Long story short, she surrendered to the police in the end and was sent to prison. She's been going through very rough times and has trouble coming to terms with what she's done, but I think things were slowly starting to look up for her. I had no idea she's on the loose again. Did you ask her what she was here for, and how she got here? XANDER I wasn't with them when they met her, but I'm guessing they didn't. WILLOW We didn't appreciate her company, so we confused her to get rid of her. BUFFY And quite effectively, I might add. You did sterling work, Willow my friend. WILLOW Thank you! ANGEL You drove her off instead of asking her what she knows and possibly getting her to help you? A short awkward silence follows. ANGEL We've got no time to start looking for her right now, but she can probably take care of herself and we need to do the same. XANDER I say we check out the sighting in the desert. If it turns out to be nothing, we can get back here before sunrise and try to find Faith. ANGEL It's probably a good idea. We don't have much else to go on at this point, but it seems like a logical thing to do. There's the possibility that it could be a trap of some kind, and we must be prepared for a fight. Buffy, did you bring any weapons? BUFFY Well, no. They're usually not all that helpful if you want to fix a radio set, unless you're planning to hold up the electronics store, of course. ANGEL Then we're in luck, because I brought a few with me. They're in the company SUV. WILLOW So you drove here? In a car? ANGEL Yeah, we did. WILLOW If that's the case, why were you crouching behind those trees? I thought you teleported in or something and just ended up there accidentally. ANGEL It's called being discreet. I don't always want to let everybody know where I am and what I am doing. BUFFY It could also be called stalking, but I digress. A matter of perspective. ANGEL Alright, it's settled. We'll head out and see what we find. DAWN (Singing) "Now he stops at traffic lights but only when they're green..." CORDELIA Wait, wait. We've only got one car. ANGEL Right, but there's room for all of us. CORDELIA How am I supposed to get a ride back to the city? You'd better lend me the money for a cab, because I'm absolutely not going to take the bus. ANGEL You're coming with us, Cordy. We're taking Dawn as well. She's safer with us than anywhere else. CORDELIA Shit. DAWN (Singing) "Aa-ah, shake along with me-ee!" WILLOW Can't we just send Dawn back home? She's a handful in that condition. ANGEL No. Like I said, it's not safe for her. WILLOW But--- ANGEL No. EXT. - DESERT, NIGHT A large black SUV with darkened windows rolls to a stop on a road in the middle of a desert. The characters emerge and gather to look at a pillar of sickly greenish light, apparently emanating from behind the brow of a rocky hill some half a mile or so distant. BUFFY Whatever it is that's going on out there, it's easy to find. WILLOW Too easy, I think. It must be a trap. CORDELIA Could that light be something man-made or natural? DAWN (Reciting in a pompous tone) "Let nothing be called natural in an age of bloody confusion!" BUFFY (Angrily) What was that? Brecht? Dawn, I've told you a million times: no quoting Marxist playwrights! WILLOW That quip of his about the government losing its confidence in people was pretty clever, though. BUFFY He also had the one about the innocent deserving to get shot in Stalin's purges. A real nice fellow, I'm sure. CORDELIA Ah, that wacky ol' Bertolt! XANDER People, what do you say we get on with the investigation part? ANGEL Here's some tools. (Hands out an assortment of stakes, three small crossbows and a large axe for Buffy) Let's keep our eyes and ears open. XANDER Speaking of which, looks like we're not alone. A Jeep is parked off the road some hundred yards away. Two figures are seen moving towards the road behind a couple of small brushes; as they approach, they turn out to be Riley and Spike. Spike is leading the way slowly and reluctantly, Riley is pushing him forward. RILEY (Spotting the others) Good! You're here! I could use some backup. SPIKE (Sarcastically) How nice; old friends joining the party. Now, if that's not too much trouble, you might finally consider letting me go. RILEY Not until you explain what exactly you were doing here and what you know about that phenomenon. SPIKE Like I said, guv'na, I was taking a walk in peace and minding my own bloody business when you jumped at me out of nowhere and shot me with your stun gun! ANGEL Just enjoying an evening stroll all the way out here? That doesn't sound like you, Spike. SPIKE What a keen observation from the master of--- RILEY The tracking device was a really good idea. I would never have been able to find him without it. SPIKE A tracking device? You wankers tagged me with a sodding tracking device? I'm not allowed even the slightest bit of privacy? RILEY (Explaining to the others, ignoring Spike) When these events started happening and we saw his signal moving eastward, we immediately realized something was up and I was sent out to bring him in. XANDER Did you know Faith has shown up again? RILEY Yeah, I did. As a matter of fact, I picked her up on the outskirts of Sunnydale and gave her a lift here. She seemed pretty composed and sociable, all things considered, even if a little agitated. BUFFY Where is she now? RILEY Probably not far. My job was to catch this fellow, and she went off on her own to investigate that light show over there. WILLOW With any luck, she may have gotten a snakebite. BUFFY I'd feel sorry for the snake. DAWN If you ask me, sand is more interesting than people think. (Singing) "I don't feel as if I know you / you take up all my time..." BUFFY Riley, are there any Signal Corps personnel at your base? There's a radio we need to fix. XANDER Focus, guys, focus. RILEY Spike had this when I apprehended him. (Throws a small round amulet to the group; Angel catches it and studies it) Do you think it could be significant? ANGEL Interesting. I suppose you don't have anything to say about this, Spike? SPIKE I found it. XANDER Found it, just lying on the ground? After somebody had thrown it away? SPIKE Well, yes, apparently. It looked worth a couple of dollars at a pawn shop so I picked it up. A bloke's got to live. ANGEL Let's see if our Science Division can be more helpful. (Takes out his cell phone and places a call) Fred? Yeah, it's me. Are you busy right now? Okay, good. I need your help with something. (Goes on to describe the amulet in detail) DAWN (Singing) "Nobody ever mentions the weather can make or break your day..." WILLOW Dawn, uh, would you mind toning it down a notch? We can't talk--- DAWN (Stops singing; quoting again) "What cannot be talked about, must not be talked about!" Thus spake Donald Duck. BUFFY Are you sure about that? DAWN Just kidding. It was Pablo Neruda. By the way, guys, do you think Pablo would like to be part of our gang? Maybe we should call and ask him. BUFFY What exactly are they teaching you at school these days, Dawn? DAWN The usual stuff. Why? BUFFY For one thing, Pablo Neruda was primarily a poet, and for another thing, he's currently dead. Taking those facts into consideration, I'm guessing he won't be joining us in our fight against the forces of darkness any time soon. DAWN Has logic or common sense ever been a factor in this cockamamie world we live in? CORDELIA You've got a point there. Maybe we really should summon Pablo Neruda. WILLOW He would certainly bring a lyrical quality to our adventures. Assuming we could convince the old Commie that vampires and demons are oppressors of the working class, that is. XANDER I can't say I'm necessarily speaking for everyone here, but you guys are beginning to sound not just kinda insane, but insane for real. CORDELIA Maybe to you, but you should understand that my whole existence is but a constant precarious balancing act between intellectual snobbery and a rich inner life. ANGEL Okay. Just like we feared. Thanks anyway, Fred. (Ends the call) Does the name Aknish say anything to you, Spike? SPIKE Aknish? Never heard it before. ANGEL File that one under "implausible denial". This little trinket you allegedly found is a badge given to his vampire servants. SPIKE Vampire servants, eh? In that case, maybe someone staked the poor sod carrying it, and it was left there on the spot. CORDELIA What and who is this Aknish? ANGEL In a nutshell, he's an Old One, or an avatar of one of them. He can only be present in our world as a shadow-like being, but he can conjure up and control various demons that have an affinity to fire and also distort humans' perception of reality. There's a group of vampires who worship him and do his bidding. CORDELIA Um, you mean like those guys? The protagonists see approaching figures in the dark and suddenly realize that they are all but surrounded by a large horde of vampires. BUFFY How inconvenient. We have to fight our way through that bunch to the hilltop, I presume? ANGEL No time for that. If Aknish is over there now, he needs to be stopped immediately. He could unleash an apocalypse if we leave him alone. RILEY Let's split up. Buffy, you go up the hill and take on Aknish; we hold these minions back and protect Dawn. We'll join you as soon as we can. ANGEL No. You need to take a spellcaster along with you; you can't defeat him by force alone. Willow, you have to go. WILLOW (Sighing heavily) Fantastic. As the others engage in an intense hand-to-hand combat with the vampires, Buffy and Willow take off, heading straight for the nearby hill. Two vampires attempt to waylay them, but Buffy chops their heads off with her axe. The girls then reach the hill safely, with Willow trailing behind Buffy with some difficulty. EXT. - HILL, NIGHT Near the summit of the hill, they see the pillar of light emerging from a crevice that turns out to be the entrance to a large cave. BUFFY I'll go inside. You stay here and prepare a spell. WILLOW (Slightly out of breath from the running) What kind of spell? BUFFY What kinds are there? I don't know; the most powerful hell-on-earth- unleashing, acolyte-leading, bent-on-conquering, ancient-evil-god destroying spell you can think of. WILLOW You're not giving me much to go on, but I'll try my best. INT. - CAVE Buffy enters cautiously. The cave is brightly illuminated by a light that seems to radiate from the air. On a ledge in front of her is a floating, dark, shadowy figure, slightly taller than the average man; it is of a vaguely humanoid shape but indistinct as to face or bodily features and appears to ripple, as if seen through flowing water. Faith is in a corner. She is standing upright with her neck bent back and arms pointing stiffly downwards, her eyes wide open but unmoving. She appears to be in a stasis of some sort. BUFFY What have we here? AKNISH Excellent. You are come, Slayer. The other one reached me before you and found herself no match to my might. BUFFY It's nice to see you can still come across the gloating romantic villain of old every now and then. What did you do to Faith? AKNISH I merely stayed her, for the time being. I helped her flee from the dungeon where she was cast by the provosts of your world so that she could in her turn help me reach my goal. BUFFY That goal being what exactly? AKNISH I now have both Slayers at hand, and even the Key in the immediate vicinity, exactly as planned. After all three of you are killed, I shall absorb your essences and open the gate. No matter what powers they may possess, humans are pitiful, small beings in their proneness to misjudgment. BUFFY That's arguable, shadow boy, and the killing thing could be easier said than done. Aknish causes a monster to materialize in the middle of the cave. The monster is large, standing at least ten feet when upright, and non- humanoid, resembling a lizard or a dinosaur in shape with a long tail and muscular rear legs. Its scaly skin glows red and emits intense heat, and its front legs end in four-fingered hands with long claws. It has yellow eyes and a large mouth full of sharp, triangular teeth. BUFFY So much for pleasantries, I guess. Buffy tries to attack the monster but it strikes her with one of its front legs and throws her against the wall effortlessly. Recovering from the blow, she makes another attempt to hit the monster with her axe; the monster again rebuffs her, burning the exposed skin of her arm in the process, and the axe falls from her grip. BUFFY (Shouting) Willow! Now would be a good time! Willow is outside of the mouth of the cave. She has drawn a pentagram in the sand and is kneeling at its center. WILLOW (Performing an incantation) Belua, pinguis adulter, audi verba mea! Quod creavisti, tollas, solvas merda nos! A blue burst of energy forms around Willow and flows into the cave. The figure of Aknish fades momentarily, and as he is distracted, the monster stumbles. Faith is released from Aknish's spell. She blinks her eyes, disoriented at first but recovering quickly. She then lunges at the axe. FAITH Watch out, Buffy! The monster tries to slash at Buffy with its claws, but at the last moment, she rolls around and out of the monster's reach. She backs up, getting on her feet; Faith hits the monster in the flank with the axe. The monster lets out a terrific roar and hits her with its tail. Faith is flung against the wall but manages to hold on to the axe and toss it to Buffy, who then attacks the monster with it. The monster is wounded again, but it shows no signs of being seriously hurt. The frantic melee continues for some time. Buffy and Faith suffer injuries from the monster's blows and the heat it radiates, and they are gradually beginning to tire. Faith, now wielding the axe in her turn, attacks the monster, but the blade hits the being's thick skin sideways, glances off and strikes a rock, shattering completely. Just then, the rest of the gang, having beaten off an attack by the vampires, arrive at the scene. Another swirl of magical energy sweeps across the cave. Almost simultaneously, the monster is hit with three crossbow bolts and bullets from Riley's sidearm. Angel throws a spear to Buffy, who catches it and proceeds to thrust it into the monster's throat. The monster, its mouth only inches away from Buffy's face, lets out a horrid scream and collapses. Aknish begins to dissolve, along with the green light. In a few seconds, he cannot be seen anymore, and the cave goes dark, apart from a weak, gradually fading reddish glow from the dead monster's hide. Both Slayers stand still and breathe heavily after the rigorous combat. DAWN Is it dead? ANGEL The monster is. Aknish put so much of his own power into it that he won't be able to manifest in our reality for some time. We have a century or two before he tries again. I looked up. The realization suddenly struck me that I was not in a cave somewhere in California, with the carcass of a slain monster lying on the ground in front of me, but in the main room of the Benton villa in Greensville. Around me were not the Scooby Gang and Spike, but a group of other roleplayers. Most importantly, I was Michael Caldwell, dressed in an extraordinary Halloween costume, and not Buffy A. Summers, a girl chosen by destiny to fight the forces of evil. I blinked my eyes and tried to reorient myself; I could still see the monster's ghastly head in front of me, feel the searing heat radiated from its body on my skin and hear its dying growl, yet there was no monster, no Aknish, no cave, and no weapon in my hand. I briefly wondered what had happened to me until the fantasy began to dissipate like a vivid dream that still continues for a fleeting moment after one opens one's eyes. "Spike" was looking at me with a smile on his face. "That was... That was pretty good," he complimented me, sounding fairly dazed himself. The looks on the other players' faces clearly showed that all of us had been under the same spell. It had made the scenario almost palpably real for a little while, and we had entirely forgotten our actual identities. "That was very good," "Spike" repeated in a more definite tone, stepped forward and gave me a little friendly hug. Then the whole ensemble broke into a spontaneous applause, applauding each other and themselves. The nearly literal magic of the play was now gone, but it had left everyone intoxicated with excitement and happiness. "Not bad, B," "Faith" remarked to me. "Guess you had it in you after all." "Thanks," I said. "I suppose it was just about an okay performance for a beginner." "More than okay," "Spike" said. "You all did very well, even though some parts definitely were closer to what Buffy would be like if it was written by the Monty Python guys instead of Joss." "So, that can only mean we made it infinitely better," Jake voiced his own interpretation. "I wouldn't go quite that far," the faux man commented. (To be continued...)