After Mr Rayne ("call me Ethan") had told him that he didn't stock any toyguns ("I don't like guns. They are such dumb weapons"), Xander was a bit lost. He couldn't really afford a good costume and at least the army fatigue would have been cheap to get. But a soldier without a gun? Not possible!
So there he was, looking through the racks of costumes, but not really finding something suitible, until... there it was, simple, sleek and elegant, but not without a certain air of menance.
Xander grinned. He'd read the books (all Willows fault, she'd gotten him hooked) and while he wasn't the most lovable character, he was one Xander could really understand in some ways. An angry, imperfect man. This was perfect.
Spike grinned at the cowering slayer. This was fun, this was wild, he liked it! He grabbed her hair pulling her towards him when... "Avada Kedavra!" A flash of green light was the last thing he ever saw.
She looked up. There he stood, her saviour. Tall and haggart, dressed into a solid black robe, a hooked nose and lank black hair, his mouth curled in disdain and a slender wooden stick in his hand.
Buffy stood up and with a cry threw herself into his arms and started sobbing.
"Miss Summers, would you kindly remove your arms off my robe and stop this disgusting snivelling! If we were at school I would take points for this absurd display!"
She sobbed. "But Mister..."
"I don't care what is happening here, but you will treat me with the respect I deserve, Miss Summers! The correct manner of address is Professor, or sir, understood?"
She nodded meekly.
He snorted, muttered something about hopeless Hufflepuffs under his breath and then dragged her out of the warehouse, leaving behind him several pertified minidemons and a small pile of dust that had once been William the Bloody.