Xander fingered the velvety cloth, sighing sadly. He could never afford this. He placed the jacket back on the rack, setting the accompanying tophat on the shelf above. He jumped when an English-accented voice addressed him from behind.
"You sound somewhat depressed, lad. Is there something the matter?"
Harris shrugged. "It's a wonderful costume. But I can't afford it. Just call me the two-dollar costume king. And it's a damned shame - Giles would have laughed his ass off seeing me in it."
Ethan Rayne raised an eyebrow. "Giles? I had a friend named Giles once.. this wouldn't be RUPERT Giles, perchance?"
Xander nodded. "He's our librarian at the high school."
Rayne's smile never altered. "Well, then. I simply CANNOT allow you to leave my establishment without this costume. It just wouldn't do to allow a student of my old friend to depart without the right costume for this holiday."
"But I don't have the cash."
"Quite all right, that. All I ask is that, when someone asks you where you acquired such a fine costume, you direct them to my shop."
"You're okay with that? Really?"
"Oh, my, yes. Please. It would be my pleasure. You might be interested to know that the coat and hat are the originals from the movie."
Xander lifted the plum-colored frock coat and the warm brown tophat reverently. "You're not joking, are you?"
"I do not joke about my offerings, Mr...?"
"Harris. Xander Harris. They really are them?"
Rayne nodded, his smile glowing. "That they are, Mr. Harris. In fact, I will include the walking stick as well. Wear them well, and do honor to the character."
Xander stroked the coat posessively. "Oh, yeah. Be sure of that, Mr. Rayne. Be sure of that."
Xander faced a serious challenge. One he NEVER thought a manly man like himself would face.
He had straight hair.
Bugger.
"Okay," he muttered, "I really need to stop listening to G-man's slang... it's rotting my fine American mind."
But what to do? Then it hit him.
His parents were worse than useless, but what about Buffy's Mom? She'd know what to do!
"What can I do, Ms. Summers?"
Joyce grinned wickedly as she grabbed her car keys. "You're coming with me, Xander. I have the perfect solution."
Xander was now officially worried. That was the same "I am Buffy, I am Slayer, hear me roar!" smile that the Buffster got only when she had a plan guarenteed to scare him silly.
He'd often wondered where she'd got it from.
Too bad he had to find out the hard way.
Twenty minutes later, he was sitting in a chair while a gentleman of rather indeterminate sexuality named 'Reynaldo' clucked and tutted over his scalp.
"What DO you use on your hair, young one? You have the WORST case of split ends Reynaldo ever seen in this shop!"
Xander glared at Joyce, who was busy trying not to laugh at the dark expression on Xander's face.
"I use soap, okay? Soap soap. Look, I just need this just for Halloween night. I'm not here for a makeover, and I don't have any long term plans that involve moving to Castro Street!"
Reynaldo sighed. "But you have such beau--" He caught the murderous look in Xander's eyes, and cut the statement short.
"Reynaldo will do what Reynaldo can. But even the marvelous Reynaldo is limited as to what he can do with the materials on hand." The hairdresser looked at the costume Xander had brought, as well as the videotape case Joyce had grabbed on the way out of her house. "Reynaldo can do this, but it WILL require the use of a wig. Do you have any complaints with this, Alexander?"
"That's Xander. JUST Xander. I do not like Alexander. I do not ANSWER to Alexander. And a wig will be okay, since it's only for one night. I just don't know if I can afford it."
Joyce smiled at him. "Not to worry, Xander. Reynaldo is my regular stylist. I'll have him put it on my bill, and you can pay me off in mowed lawns."
"I can't let you do-"
"Xander"
The dreaded Mom Look was aimed at him, and like Buffy, he folded under its relentless power.