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By The Pricking Of My Thumbs

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Summary: YAHF - Buffy, Willow and Xander go from other characters from the Anita Blake universe, and things are never the same.

Categories Author Rating Chapters Words Recs Reviews Hits Published Updated Complete
Anita Blake > GeneralMissEFR1513,0770154,45531 Oct 1131 Oct 11Yes
Disclaimer: Don't own or claim rights to Buffy or Anita Blake


Buffy scratched under her wig; the pins holding it in place were irritating her scalp. She shook her head, and long, chestnut locks swished across her back. She smiled: between the wig, the sea-green contacts, and the make-up, she felt quite different; almost as fey as the character she was going as.

Janus, I invoke your spirit. Hear my plea. Seize the night for your own reason. Come, appear and show to us that which is infinite power.

Xander smiled as he rested his hand on the hilt of his great sword. Giles had very graciously allowed him to carry this sword, on the proviso he didn’t try to use it in any way, shape or fashion. Not only that, but allowing Buffy to colour his hair red and putting in the green contacts had changed him enough that Larry hadn’t had a chance to startle him like he was sure the footballer had wanted to. Though the slight leer he’d cast Xander’s way had been rather disturbing. It was enough to make him want to flash his fangs at Larry. Except, of course, that such a thing was not something his character would do to a human; he was more civilised than that.

The mask transforms itself into flesh and blood. Your holy presence curdles the heart. Janus! Take the night!

Willow was feeling very Mother Earth-ish in her long, pale-blonde wig and her flowing skirt. But then she was going as a witch, complete with tarot cards in her bag. Her character was very nature-oriented, even going so far as to be involved in a werewolf clan, something Willow thought was very admirable, if slightly scary. Of course, she wasn’t going as that version of the character, but the woman as a teenager, still perfecting her skills at the cards and aura reading. Still, she was very pleased with her costume.


Damian made a face. There was something … wrong about this place. It stank of sulphur and death, and evil things roamed the night. As long as he had lived, he had seen much evil, even been considered to be evil, but these were … demons, he decided. He quickly drew his sword, then stopped and looked at it. It wasn’t any sword he was used to using, but a good one none-the-less. He shrugged, and strode forward, eager to test this new weapon.


Marianne looked around, appalled by what she saw. Beings, old and young, swirled around her, and none of them were natural. She reached out and grabbed a little fey running aimlessly, and gasped in shock: there was a human child subsumed inside the fey. She looked at the child, then noticed she was near a house. She ran to the door, and knocked, smiling gratefully when it was opened cautiously. “Can you shelter this child?” she asked.

The woman glanced nervously at her, then nodded.

Marianne looked at the child again, but couldn’t figure out how to remove the enchantment. “I’m sorry. There is a little girl inside, but I can’t break the spell. I’ll try to find out how to do so, but for now she should be safe. She is a fey, and I don’t think you’ll be in any danger.” With that, she handed over the child, and ran back down the steps. There had to be some way to fix this.


Dorcas looked around, alarmed. There was so much chaos, and none of it was natural. She decided that shelter would be good; she might be stronger and faster than humans, but it looked like someone had done a mass summoning. All she needed now was some fool with cold iron.

She spun to see a … demon charging her? She slipped to the side then dodged the next creature trying to attack her. She knew things were getting to the point where she would either have to fight or run, and while she was pretty sure he could defeat these monsters, she also knew that there were too many for her to keep fighting them.

Someone grabbed her hand, and she twisted to attack, only to find it was a human, a fair-haired girl, holding her hand. She glanced down and their hands, and back up again, confused.

The blonde let go abruptly, and blushed. “I’m sorry, I was just trying to get your attention. You’re fey, aren’t you?” she asked.

Dorcas reflexively began to hide her features, but then realised the girl was a witch. She nodded. “I am descended from the fey,” she admitted quietly.

“Something unnatural has happened tonight,” the girl frowned, “some kind of spell has affected many of the children.”

Dorcas blinked, and looked around her with new eyes. “I knew something was wrong,” she mused. “A spell?”

The blonde nodded sadly. “I found a little fey girl, but she was human underneath. Oh,” she blinked, surprised, “I’m Marianne, by the way.”

Dorcas smiled. “Dorcas,” she introduced.


A scream split the air, and Damian turned to see a human girl being chased by some large dog-like monster. He ran forward, planted his foot, and swung his great sword through the monster, lopping off its head. The girl stopped running, and walked cautiously back to where he stood, frowning down at the monster. It was unlike anything he’d seen in his long life.

“Dweeb-boy,” the girl greeted, “thank God you turned up. Though I wouldn’t have thought you could do anything with that other than chop your foot off,” she added inconsequentially. “And what is with that? Giles gives you a sword, and all of a sudden you’re Conan the Barbarian?”

“My name is Damian,” he growled, “and I don’t why you think you know me, for I don’t know you.”

The girl blinked. “The hell?” she demanded. “You,” she jabbed at him with a sharp fingernail, “are Xander, the uber-dweeb, and I am Cordelia, queen of the school.”

“You mistake,” Damian growled. “I am Damian, the vampire, and you are nothing but a little, human girl. Now run away.”

Cordelia rocked back, and surveyed the red-haired vampire with narrowed eyes. “Now I know something is way wrong,” she decided. “I know you are Xander, and you just dressed as some vampire from some book.” She glared at him as she thought. “Okay, then. If you think you’re all evil-undead, then we need to get you to Giles. I swear,” she added, turning on her heel and stalking off, “you people find all the weird stuff and just roll in it. Why you need to drag me into your shit, I have no idea, but you are going to fix it, and if it takes going to the school when I’m supposed to be at a party, so help me God, that’s what I’m going to do.” She turned back, suddenly, when she noticed she was alone. “Well?” she demanded.

For some reason, the woman reminded him a little of Anita.


Spike walked into Drusilla’s chambers, to find her hands bloodied. He rushed up to her, and cradled them carefully. “Dru, love, what have you done?”

The seeress looked at him, worried, as he raised one thumb to his mouth. “Something wicked this way comes.” Drusilla frowned. “Or are we the wicked ones? The willow-wand and the fairy-tea will dance, and the Viking will leave the sack,” she informed him earnestly.

“Princess,” Spike frowned worriedly, “you’re making even less sense than usual.”

Drusilla sighed. “Will you make me tea?”

Spike smiled fondly. “Of course, my love.”


Giles looked up when Cordelia stormed the library, followed by a somewhat bewildered Xander. “Xander, Cordelia, aren’t you back a little early?” he greeted.

“You have no idea,” Cordelia fumed. “First, Jo-jo the dog-faced boy totally ruins my costume, then doofus, here, utterly forgets who he is, and decides he’s some story-book fang-face. I mean, lame much?”

Giles blinked, and turned to Xander. “I’m sorry, but … do you know what she’s talking about, Xander?”

Damian shrugged. “Maybe the fact that you appear to think I’m someone I’m not. My name is Damian, not Xander.”

Giles cleared his throat. “So, uh, Damian was it? You’re a vampire then?”

Damian flashed his fangs in answer then walked off to inspect the book cage.

“How very odd,” Giles mused. “So, um, Cordelia, how, er, wide-spread is this…” he waved his hand.

“Sunnydale wigginess?” Cordelia supplied brightly.

“Er, yes,” Giles nodded. “And why weren’t you affected? I, I notice that both you and Xander are in costume, yet he appears to have become his costume, while you haven’t.”

“Well, duh,” Cordelia snorted, “I went to Partytown, while loser-boy and the loser-ettes probably went to that new place, uh … Ethan’s, I think.”

Giles froze, and Damian turned sharply to frown at him. “Ethans?” he repeated with icy calm.

“That’d be the one,” Cordelia nodded, watching the older man carefully.

“Right, well, um, I’ll just -” Giles began, but was cut off by Angel bursting into the library.

“Giles, Cordelia … Xander?” Angel greeted. He stared at the currently red-haired man before shaking his head and turning back to the Watcher. “Have you seen Buffy?” he asked urgently. “Or Willow?” he added. He glanced back to Xander, who was scowling back at him; something was wrong about the boy, more so than usual. “Does anyone even know what’s going on out there? It’s madness!”

Cordelia sauntered over to the vampire, big smile on her face. “Oh, you know how it is,” she simpered, “you buy bargain-basement, you get some big spell dumped on you. Which is why I always say ‘go for the best,’ wouldn’t you agree, Angel?”

Angel looked warily at the girl walking her fingers up his chest, then over to Xander, who was smirking at his discomfort. Oddly enough, he wasn’t actually saying anything, just smirking. Xander never left an opportunity for taunting alone. “Er, yes,” he agreed absently, backing away from Cordelia. “Giles, do you have any idea?”

Giles walked out of the book cage, carrying a sword of his own. “As Cordelia has said, someone has cast a spell over the costumes sold from a certain shop, causing the victims, er, customers, to change into their costumes.” He glared at Xander. “Just how good are you with that?” he asked, frowning.

“Oh, he’s got that covered,” Cordelia announced airily. “The thing that did this,” she waved at the long tear in her costume, “is now missing a head thanks to Conan the Vamparian over there.”

Angel’s head jerked up; that was what was wrong with the boy? “You’re a vampire?” he demanded.

Xander/Damian rolled his eyes and looked at Giles. “Is he very young?”

Giles sighed. “I am going to see if I can fix this. Xan- er, Damian, you can come with me. Angel, would you stay with Cordelia, just in case Buffy and Willow turn up?”

“Oh, no you don’t,” Cordelia argued. “I am not staying here like some damsel in distress. I’m going with you so I can let this ass know I am not happy with what he’s done. He owes me my deposit,” she added firmly, a martial glint in her eye.

“Fine,” Giles ground out. “We’d best be off, then, hadn’t we?”


Having regained their memories, Buffy and Willow headed to the school to try to catch up with Giles. The library was deserted when they arrived, so they sat at the reading table, and waited for the Watcher to return. After a while, Willow pulled out her tarot cards, and began to set out the cards.

“What’s the reading for?” Buffy asked, curious.

“I’m still waiting for the question,” Willow shrugged.

“Okay,” Buffy drawled.

Willow smiled at her friend, but silently kept laying out the cards. She sat back, and looked at the cards. “Things have changed,” she remarked mildly. “For one thing,” she added, shooting a grin at her friend, “I couldn’t do this before. Also, I don’t think you’re fully human anymore,” she added.

“You think I’m half-fey now?” Buffy asked, and realised she wasn’t actually dismayed by that thought.

“Try casting a glamour,” Willow suggested, and watched as Buffy’s appearance did change, her eyes pinwheeling briefly. She grimaced a little. “Yep, you’re a fey; well, half-fey, anyway.”

“And you went as a witch, didn’t you?” Buffy considered.

“Yep,” Willow nodded serenely. “In the book, Marianne was quite a bit older than me, but I went as a young version of her. Now, though, it seems like I have a lot more of her memories than I should. I remember doing magic the way she did it. I remember being the Vargamor of the Oak Tree Clan, and helping out.”

Buffy sat up straight suddenly. “Xander went as a vampire,” she gasped. “Do you think he still is one?”

Willow nibbled on her lip. “It’s entirely possible,” she nodded.

“That is what appears to have happened,” Giles announced as he entered the room, followed by Angel, Cordelia, and…

“Xander,” Buffy murmured, taking in the image of her dear friend. She wrinkled her nose, and looked at first Angel then Xander. “You’re not a normal vampire,” she decided. “I can still feel Angel like I used to, but you feel different, more … natural?” she tried.

“Maybe it’s because I don’t have a demon,” Xander suggested, sliding into a chair. “I’m still going to need blood, though,” he added, “and I can’t stay with my parents, as their house isn’t suitable.”

“What will you need?” Giles asked, concerned.

“Well, I’ll need a basement,” Xander explained, “which my parents have, but it’s unsuitable: frankly, it stinks, and while as a human I would have hated it, as a vampire it’s utterly unusable.”

Angel shrugged. “He has a point. Vampire senses would make it too difficult to live in a place like that.”

“I have a basement,” Buffy began, “but-”

“Damian was old” Xander shrugged. “I’m not saying you have to take me in, but just that he was old, and had a lot of control for his type of vampire. Also, I don’t have a demon. So long as I feed properly, I won’t be a danger to anyone. Though it might be better if I lived elsewhere,” he added, “for everyone’s comfort.”

“What kind of blood do you need?” Giles asked.

Xander sighed. “I can survive on animal blood for a short time, but not indefinitely. I need human blood or lycanthrope blood, straight from the body. I don’t need to kill to eat, but I do need to eat; also, not the same person more than twice in a row.”

Giles rubbed his forehead. “Right. Well, you’d best come home with me tonight, and we’ll see about getting you a mix of human and animal blood. Do you girls need any help getting home?” he asked.

“Not really,” Buffy shrugged. “Though…” She exchanged glances with Willow. “I don’t think I’m a Slayer anymore,” she offered.

Giles gaped at her. “How, how could that have happened?”

“Well, I don’t know if I am or not, because I don’t know if, well, half-fey can be Slayers, and that’s what I am, now,” Buffy sighed.

“Dear Lord,” Giles muttered. “Willow, how about you?”

“Oh, I’m still human,” Willow smiled slightly. “But I am a witch, with memories of a woman, er, older than you, shall we say?”

“Right, well,” Giles huffed, “I think we all need to go home, maybe have a rest tomorrow, and come back on Sunday, say after lunch? We can talk further about the changes the three of you have gone through.”

“Finally!” Cordelia exclaimed. “I need an escort home,” she decided. “Angel,” she turned to the vampire with a blinding smile, “walk me home?”

Angel, realising it was not a request, nodded, and walked over to the brunette as if walking to his doom.

Buffy watched him leave, frowning slightly. She sighed. “All of a sudden he grates on me,” she observed mournfully.

Willow reached out to pat her arm. “It’s the demon in him. As half-fey, you’re even closer to nature, and it makes you uncomfortable.” She stood, and waited for Buffy to join her then put her arm through Buffy’s and, with a smile, the girls walked out of the library.

Giles sighed, and turned to the new/old vampire. “Home?”

“Home,” Xander nodded. “Oh, can we stop for some blood? I’m a bit hungry.”

Giles eyes widened a little. “I’m sure we can work something out,” he nodded, and led the way out to his car.

When they arrived at the car, Xander made a face. “I think now would be a good time to practice my flying skills.”

“You can fly?” Giles gasped.

“Damian was considered one of the best,” Xander nodded. “Of course, I, personally, have never flown but,” he eyed Giles’ Citroen, “there’s no time like the present.”

“Oh, it’s not that bad,” Giles scowled

“Yeah, Giles, it really is,” Xander smiled.

Giles rolled his eyes, but was quietly glad; hopefully Xander would be able to come through this with most of his personality intact, maybe a little more mature. He could only hope this could be said of all three of the children.

Drusilla sighed. “Daddy’s not going to be coming out to play ever again,” she mourned.

“How’s that, love?” Spike asked absently.

Drusilla drifted over to sit delicately on her lover’s lap. “The fairy-lights have taken his love away, and she’ll never be his again. Instead we have a new cousin, andhe will walk in the sun and neither sparkle nor burn.”

“A new cousin?” Spike asked, worried now. “Should I be getting concerned, Princess?”

“I want to see Paris again,” Drusilla sighed. “Can we go to Paris?”

“Yes, pet, we can go to Paris. But first we need to get you better again.”

Drusilla bit her lip, but didn’t say anything. Too much had changed, and she was no longer certain she would get any better. If they stayed, her sweet William might be able to find her a cure, or their new cousin might see to their end. Alternately, if they left now for Paris, shewas certain she would not get any better, but Spike would probably survive the near future at least. She laid her head on Spike’s shoulder. She would let the future play out for now.

The End

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