"Because this is one Halloween when I have no intention of being slimed, spelled, or mauled. And you are not allowed to translate any doomsday prophecies, either. We're staying in."

"I still don't understand why you would want a horror movie."

"Duh, because it's Halloween. We need something *scary*."

"Why not just watch your audition tape -- Ow! Um, what about this?"

"Casper? Not scary. Besides, I don't want to give Phantom Dennis the wrong idea."

"Wrong idea?"

"You know, ghost falls for girl, smoochies ensue..."

"Contrary to what you might think, not every male in the vicinity falls at your feet."

"And when was the last time you were on a date? Bar tramps don't count. Oh, what about this?"

"The Sound of Music? That certainly qualifies as frightening."

"Hm. You know, Angel seems a little too fond of convents. Besides, Gunn would probably kill us."

"You invited Gunn? You weren't even going to invite me."

"I was so. You have the rental card."

"What?"

"Nothing. Hey, what about Scream? The Wesley Wyndham-Pryce story."

"Very funny. Shall we look for the Cordelia Chase movie somewhere in the adult section?"

"I'm sure you know the adult section very well. Bleach blonde, was she?"

"Can we change the subject, please? Perhaps The Mummy?"

"Perfect! He is *so* yummy."

"Not exactly the adjective I would have chosen."

"What are you talking about? Brendan Fraser is great. And that guy who plays the mummy, wow."

"Cordelia, Boris Karloff stars in The Mummy. It's a classic."

"Moldy, you mean. I'm not renting some ancient black and white snooze fest."

"Who has the rental card?"

"Who's the one making popcorn?"

"Termagant."

"Stick in the mud. And when I find out what that means, you're in for -- darn it! I never should have bought us beepers."

"It's an emergency."

"He's going to need 911 himself if I get anything on this skirt."

"Maybe you can ask for a new wardrobe for Christmas. Something a little less minimalist?"

"Christmas! I am *definitely* not working on Christmas. I'll leave the country."

"Cordelia..."

"...And since the Befana demon is strongest on All Hallows Eve, it's also at its --"

"Juiciest?" Cordelia cut off Wesley's recitation, and tried fruitlessly to wring more orange goo from what had once been a cream-colored top. "Next time, could you not explode the pus monster directly on me?"

Gunn did not seem particularly chastened. "If you guys hadn't been so slow getting here, maybe we could have coordinated a little better," he pointed out. "But that protection thing is working real well. Thanks for blocking all that slime. You too, Wesley."

Cordelia glared at him, and sought sympathy elsewhere. Without luck.

"Where were you?" Angel's sour expression mirrored Cordelia's, though much cleaner -- he, like Gunn, had managed to avoid the spray of pumpkin-like flesh.

"Don't start brooding at me," she snapped. "I tried very hard to make this a good Halloween." She stared in horror at her shoes, which squelched ominously, then wheeled on Wesley. "And what are you snickering at?"

"Well, you are rather in the spirit of the holiday." He gave up trying to polish his glasses on his goo-soaked shirt, and returned them to his nose. "Orange is particularly becoming against the black leather."

Cordelia smoothed a path down to the edge of her skirt, and flicked the resulting trail of gunk at him.

A smile twitched at the corner of Angel's lips as small rivulets of orange trickled down Wesley's tie. "Let's go," he said finally. He opened the car door for Cordelia, as Gunn and Wesley moved to the other side. "Try not to get any of that --"

Cordelia and Wesley had perfected identical dead-eyed stares, Angel reflected. "Never mind." Setting aside thoughts as to who was going to clean the car when they got back to the hotel, he changed the subject. "So, what movie are we going to watch?"

"We're not." Wesley shifted uncomfortably, trying alternately to unstick his shirt, then his pants, from the seat. "We were banned from the video store. Something about causing a disturbance. I thought perhaps while we get cleaned up that one of you...?"

Gunn, lounging in the shotgun seat, raised an eyebrow. "Not a lot of Blockbusters in my neighborhood."

"Right." Wesley sighed. He shifted again, and earned an elbow in the ribs from Cordelia.

Angel shot a glance in the rearview mirror. "Cordelia, are you okay?"

"I am *not* working on Christmas," she announced grimly. "And I am having a huge Christmas party, and none of you are invited."

"The next holiday is Thanksgiving, not Christmas," Gunn observed.

"She doesn't cook." Angel and Wesley spoke in unison.

"Well, then." Gunn ducked his head, hiding a broad grin. "God bless us, everyone."

*end*
Happy Halloween!