Disclaimer: BTVS belong to Senor Joss Whedon and Desperado belongs to Senor Quentin Tarantino. I make no claim to any rights of these people.
Xander Harris was mad, his rage if he acted would have been momentous. The costume store lacked an assault rifle, all that was left in the bin were pale shotgun imitations and imitations of Lugers.
Banging the side of the plastic bin, he dodged an on coming rack of clothes with reflexes born of slaying and saw it. The black suit with chaps, moving over to it he checked the back, it had the scorpion on it.
“Ah a Yank that appreciates the finer films. You wish to go as El?” Ethan said.
This costume had arrived last night, the suit worn by an actor in the El Mariachi films; delightfully chaotic.
“Yes, I’d like to buy this and it’s props; but I only have two dollars.” Xander said.
“Well, I will sell it to you for the peso I paid for it; two dollars is more than enough.”
Xander went home with a guitar case filled with weapons, including Carolina’s throwing knives.
He got dressed in his costume, applying the mole to his hand under the glove. He then fished out a single red candle from his drawers and placed it lit atop his bathroom sink.
He knelt in prayer and blessed himself, after the prayer was done he stood and walked out.
He knocked on the door of Casa del Summers and saw Joyce’s astonished look.
“Shall I play for you Mrs. S?” Xander asked.
He began strumming a song that had been included with the guitar.
Buffy came down in her noblewoman dress and his jaw dropped; shortly after his knee hit the floor.
“Eu gosto tua vesta Senhora.” Xander stuttered in Spanish. Apparently those late-night Spanish soaps that his mother watched when drunk helped some.
Willow came down attired in a familiar dress, a Mexican bookseller with a café in the same building that was burned by Bucho. Xander was stunned, Snyder would never let her dress as Carolina and yet, she had. His Willis has defied the troll; unfortunately, his White Knight complex motivated him to cover her in a lovable sheet. One that she could take off to revel in the costume and on to keep from Snyder’s wrath.
After they entered the building known as Sunnyhell high, Snyder assigned them groups Harris bumped into Larry, who had worn a pirate costume and a faux beard.
“Ola, bandeiro.” Was what Harris got out before the cutlass-wearing bully pushed him into lockers and walked off with his own hyped-up runts.
The spell washed over Sunnyhell and “El” was out of place. At his side was his guitar case. He had just killed General Martinez and he was escaping out the window when he had arrived. The warm damp air that reminded him of a mission-church town, the kind of town that had a bar as seedy as the Tarasco. He had his guitar case at his side, all the better and then he heard a scream, not unlike the scream of the bookseller, Carolina and he had her knives!
After slamming open his case, he took out what his friend called the biggest handcannon he had ever seen. As he chased off, he found Carolina’s body on the stoop of a hacienda.
He recovered her with the sheet and saw a chupacabra. He fired and the blonde thing exploded into dust.
Bloody slow, hmmm there’s the red bint, what’s the whelp doing kneeling beside her?
Why is he leveling that gun at me, guns can’t kill me. Then a large caliber bullet blew off his head.
Some of Martinez’s men had killed Carolina! He never knew when they would find them after the barrio! He went back to his guitar case, he saw Carolina’s ghost floating by it only something was wrong, she was calling him Xander.
He heard a scream, unlike Carolina’s this time and took off at full tilt.
There was a man in a gringo pirate costume attacking her. Deciding for once, not to be violent; the Mariachi cold-cocked him.
Unable to wake the noblewoman from her induced catatonia; El lifted her over his shoulder and raced towards a house that felt safe. After a little while of fending off chupacabras and other demons. The spell ended.
A/N: I so wanted the Mariachi to deal with Ethan, but time constraints meant that Ripper had to. I might write a sequel.