After landing in Hawaii for the second Christmas they had that year, the crew of MJN Air went their separate ways, but agreed to meet up after dinner for drinks. They met at a pub near their hotel, and while it was no 'Auspicious Pig and Whistle Olde English Style Happy Pub', it was festively decorated and served special holiday beverages.

One round of drinks—non-alcoholic eggnog for the First Officer—and "Twelve Days of Christmas" later, a thought struck the slightly tipsy Captain.

"Arthur," Martin interrupted the start of another carol.

"Yes, Skip?" Arthur turned his grin on Martin.

"Earlier, you listed a few of your favorite holidays, but I don't remember hearing Halloween on the list. Why is that?" Martin saw the confusion on everyone's faces and continued. "It just seemed so you, with the parties, decorating, costumes, and sweets."

Douglas cleared his throat from across the table. "If I may say, I did let Christmas slide, but Arthur truly is too old to go trick-or-treating around the neighborhood for sweets."

"No, but that's not all there is to it," Martin argued. "There's parties, decorations, costumes, and sweets—which you don't have to collect from houses."

"If you must know," Carolyn piped up, "there was a series of bad Halloween nights and even more years of not being invited to any of the parties we heard about. After a while, we just gave up on the whole ruddy thing and went on with our lives."

"Oh," Martin said. "Sorry, I didn't realize."

"It's alright, Skip!" Arthur said. "I don't mind the day, really! It's like any other day. Sometimes it's great and sometimes it's just okay! It's not like I can blame the day for all the stuff that happened. I mean, kids pushed me around and didn't invite me to parties on days other than Halloween, too!" He was still smiling, but there were tears prickling the corners of his eyes.

"Oh, Arthur," Martin mumbled. "I'm really sorry. I shouldn't have asked."

Arthur shook his head. "Don't give it a second thought!" He drained the remaining contents of his sickeningly sweet holiday concoction.

The rest of the night went well, Arthur quickly forgetting the brief unpleasant part of the conversation. But the story still nagged at Martin. Lesson learned, he thought: anything Arthur Shappey didn't think was brilliant was probably traumatizing.

So the next year, when the holiday was just around the corner, Martin's mind turned back to Arthur's experiences with Halloween. And, well…

"Martin, you can't be serious," Douglas said when Martin explained his idea.

"Why not?" Martin asked. "You remember what he said in December! I can't let his only memories of Halloween be of being bullied and excluded, that's horrible! Besides," he added, looking down, "I know what that's like and how great it would've been to have a friend who cared."

Douglas sighed. "I admire your intentions, Martin, I really do. But you can't go around trying to fix it every time Arthur has a bad day."

"It's not every time! Just the holidays. And not even every one of them! Just the one Christmas and Halloween."

"Really?" Douglas gave him a disbelieving look, then paused. "Actually, he once told me about his first birthday without his father, and I have to admit I got a little choked-up."

"Oh God, really? How awful, poor Arthur. When is his birthday?"

"Martin!" Douglas groaned "I was lying, and you're just proving my point."

"I am not!" Martin huffed, irritated. "I was just wondering because…you mentioned it, and I didn't want to forget like I did that one time with Carolyn."

"Right. And you weren't even thinking about trying to give him the best birthday ever to make him feel better?"

"Don't be ridiculous!" He hesitated. "Just the best I can manage."

"You're hopeless." Douglas sighed again. "Very well, I give up. Go ahead on your little holiday-saving crusade. I'll even donate a tenner to your cause if you'll leave me out of your plans for this weekend."

"Oh that's good, actually, now I have more options." Martin wouldn't normally accept any money he hadn't earned or won fairly, but satisfied his conscience with the excuse that he wouldn't be keeping any of it for himself. It was all going to be spent on Arthur's Halloween. So he took the £10 gladly, excited to tell Arthur later.

To his credit, he did try. Martin thought he'd worked out a very good schedule for Arthur's first proper Halloween. As a treat, he thought he'd take his van and pick Arthur up from his house, but the blasted thing wouldn't start. He called Arthur and told him, knowing full well the young man would insist on driving them, but having no other options.

"Hi, Skip!" Arthur grinned when Martin came out of the building to meet him. He had been told by Martin to wear a costume, so he was dressed as the Doctor. He even had a sonic screwdriver that lit up. He looked over Martin's outfit. "I thought you said we were going in costume?"

"Yes," Martin said.

"But where is yours?"

Martin sighed and held up a Frankenstein's monster mask he was hiding behind his back. "It was the best I could do."

"Brilliant mask! But why aren't you wearing it?"

"I…I don't want to." Martin couldn't bring himself to say how embarrassed he was of it.

"Oh," Arthur said.

"B-but the mask isn't important!" Martin said. "It's all the fun we'll have!"

Arthur beamed. "Right! Of course! Where to?"

The first stop on Martin's admittedly short agenda was a Halloween Film Festival in the local park. Basically, a marathon of holiday-themed movies, in this case horror. Ten minutes into the first movie, Arthur was hiding behind Martin and shrieking along with the on-screen victims. Twenty minutes in, Martin was muttering apologies as he guided a shuddering Arthur through the crowd, toward the parking lot. Martin cursed himself for not realizing right away what a bad idea this was. Instead, they got ice cream and walked along the dark streets, Arthur constantly checking that no serial killers were following them. Finally, Martin had to give in and let Arthur hold his hand, since it calmed him considerably. It just made Martin horribly embarrassed, which made him stammer and ramble.

Next, they went to a fancy dress evening in a pub, where Arthur accidentally got drunk. In his delirious state, he annoyed a guy enough to get a smack on the head. At this, Martin got a bit defensive, which only earned him an even harder blow to the face. They were both kicked out, along with the guy who hit them, for "causing a disturbance." So they headed on foot for a coffee shop, and holed up there until Arthur was sober and the pain coursing through Martin's head had dulled to where he could ignore it.

Finally, Martin counted his losses and drove Arthur home, not trusting him behind the wheel. He apologized profusely on the doorstep of the Shappey residence.

"Arthur, I am so sorry," he said. "I was trying to give you a good Halloween memory and instead probably gave you the worst one yet. Or at the least, added another bad one to the list."

"I disagree, Skip I had a brilliant time!"

Martin eyed Arthur, but of course the steward had meant it, as proven by his trademark manic grin. "Really? Then you must have had a different evening than me, because my plans went wrong in a way I hadn't thought possible, even with my luck."

"But it was brilliant, anyway!" Arthur insisted. "I mean, that movie was one of the scariest things I've ever seen. But then we got ice cream and you let me hold your hand, even though I could tell you didn't want to! And we both got hit by that guy with the scary mask, but you stood up for me even though he didn't hit me very hard and then he did hit you pretty hard! And then we got to hang out in that café! And all that just because of something I said a year ago that I didn't even remember until you reminded me! That is really definitely absolutely truly BRILLIANT."

Martin was totally chuffed, but trying to be cool about it. "Well, when you say it like that…" He smiled a bit. "You know your stubborn optimism can reach ridiculous heights sometimes."

"Oh, sorry."

"No, don't be! It's amazing and yes, brilliant."

"Aw, thanks, Skip!" Arthur pulled him into a hug.

"And thank you," Martin replied, hesitantly and awkwardly returning the embrace.

Arthur let go and opened the door with his key. "We have to do this again sometime! But we shouldn't wait for Halloween. And without getting drunk. Or punched. Or kicked out of places."

"Yes, we should. And definitely without any of…all of that."

"Goodnight, Skip!" He waved.

"Goodnight, Arthur." Martin waited for Arthur to close the door before starting his walk back home. He realized he still had a bit of Douglas's money left, and frowned. Well his van did probably need to be fixed, so maybe he could let it go this once.

...Or maybe he could buy Arthur a Toblerone and give it to him on their next flight. There. Fixed.