H A L L O W E E N
(potr)

Dedication: nevershoutbribri, this one goes out to you! I got the inspiration in the middle of reviewing Holiday Season (which everyone should go check out, by the way), so it's only fitting that you get the dedication.

Written for PHM Challenge #5, prompts 1 & 2: Carving pumpkins and trick-or-treating.

Macy flopped back on her bed with a sigh, unable to hide her grin. She brought a hand up to her face, brushing her fingers across her swollen lips. Her smile broadened. She was tired—exhausted, to tell the truth—but she couldn't even begin to think of sleep. Her mind raced as the night's events replayed behind her dazed and happy eyes. She could only concentrate on one thing: how much she missed him already.

She turned to face the clock. It was 11:34. She had no idea how it could be so early in the night (at least, for her, the brainiac athlete that spent dawn to dusk at practice and the rest of the time studying for her AP classes) and still feel so late. And it only meant that it would be that much longer before she saw him again.

She'd only been home for four minutes and she was already lamenting the next… eight and a half hours without him! What would she do, if she couldn't sleep?

As if in response to her silent question, her computer chirped about a new e-mail. She grinned—could it be him? He only lived just down the street, after all… She quickly got up off the bed and crossed to her desk, where her laptop sat, open and waiting. She looked at the sender's address and immediately frowned; it wasn't him. It was the new webmaster of her fansite. What did she want? After reading the subject, Macy's face paled.

She quickly opened the e-mail.

To: maySEEMgraceLESS-at-jonas-dot-not
From: hellOHgoodBYE-at-jonas-dot-not

Subject: Don't be mad at me!

Macy,

I know you said not to pester you for information, but I have to ask. Did you really go out trick-or-treating with Nick and Frankie Lucas tonight? I've gotten over fifty photos of you and what looks like two of the Lucas brothers, although lighting in most of the pictures makes it hard to tell.

If you did happen to go out with them tonight, would you let me post about it on the site? I won't include anything personal; swear on the JONAS-Head Code of Conduct. But this is something major that I think the others would like to know about.

Like I said, don't be mad. I'm just performing my duties in the way I was taught.

Thanks again,
Anna

Macy blinked; stunned that word had gotten around so fast. She smiled a little at the thought that she now had all the exclusive information. But how was she supposed to respond to something like this? It felt wrong to give out details of the night she'd had—one of the most magical nights of her life! And besides that, there were just some things that needed to be kept private.

She sighed as she replayed the memories once more, grinning like a nutcase.

"Macy, thanks again for agreeing to watch Frankie and take him trick-or-treating," Sandy said gratefully as she rushed around the house. "Normally, we would take him, but Tom insisted that we go to this party. It was almost like he was… scared to take Frankie around this year."

Macy shot a look at the youngest Lucas and found that the young boy had a wide, smug grin stretched across his face. Fighting off a smile herself, she turned to the ever-moving redhead. "I don't mind at all, Mrs. Lucas—"

"How many times do I have to tell you to call me Sandy?"

"Sandy, I enjoy baby-sitting Frankie. He's one of the greatest kids I know," Macy insisted. The mother turned and beamed at her little boy. "And besides, if I dress up when I take him around, I get pity candy."

There was an unexpected laugh at this as Tom came into the room, fully dressed for the costume party. His face was made up to imitate a corpse and he had a fake knife sticking out of his back, complete with bloodstains all over his blazer. His wife greeted him with a brief peck and one could see that they were dressed to match—she had the look of a homicidal housewife, complete with crazed circles under her eyes and a bloodied shirt front.

"I'm still shocked that Joe and Kevin didn't want to take him," he said. He turned to Frankie. "The party is in New York, Frankster, so we probably won't be back till late. Your brothers should be home to relieve Macy by eleven. If they're not, I wanna know, okay?"

The boy saluted faithfully and allowed his mother to coo over him briefly before he and Macy both began leading them to the door.

"Remember, Macy; he can't have any candy until it's been inspected by you or Nick," Tom said, causing the girl to blink before she realized that the youngest JONAS was the most intelligent and, therefore, the best able brother to check for poison. The father continued, "A-and if don't let him near any unfriendly-looking houses."

"Tommy, let's go!" Sandy said as she dragged her husband toward the door. He continued to shout warnings at them, but Macy knew enough to lock the door before he could come running back with more instructions.

She gave Frankie a high-five. "We are gonna have such a blast!"

"Did you bring the pumpkins like you promised?" the boy asked eagerly.

"Did I?!" Macy responded with just as much enthusiasm. "They're in my truck right now! Tell you what; you get out the newspaper and the pencils and markers I left here last time while I go get the heavenly orange globes of awesome."

Frankie raised an eyebrow.

"Um, yeah." Macy stood awkwardly for a moment before turning the boy toward the kitchen. "I'll be back inside in a minute. Just don't touch that knife!"

It took four trips back and forth between her truck and the front door (where Frankie waited to take the lighter pumpkins) to bring all of the "heavenly orange globes of awesome" into the house. Macy did not have trouble carrying them, athlete that she was, but the youngest Lucas struggled a little.

"Why," Frankie grunted as they set the last of the pumpkins on the table. "Did you buy so many? Two or three would have been good enough."

"Two or three?" Macy stared down at him. "Hardly! I'll have you know that I carve at least three pumpkins every Halloween. One at my dad's house, usually the weekend before, one at Stella's in the afternoon and one with my mom on Halloween night."

"Your mom and your dad don't live together?" asked the young man.

Macy shook her head and ruffled his hair briefly, grinning when he jerked out from under her hand. "No, they got divorced when I was a little older than you," she said. "But it's not so bad. I get more gifts at the holidays and I get to see my dad once a month. He lives in Indiana."

She finished arranging the pumpkins on the table and set the first—a slightly smaller one she'd picked especially for the boy—within easy reach. She sifted through the supplies he'd brought out and handed Frankie a washable marker. "Why don't you start drawing what you want to carve in the face? Just remember that all the pieces come out—no circles inside circles and that sort of thing."

She herself reached for her bag, out of which she pulled a photo she'd printed that afternoon. She propped it up next to the largest pumpkin of the bunch and fingered a Sharpie marker, trying to figure out where to begin.

"Um, Macy?" Frankie asked, just as she decided to start with the hair.

"Yeah?" All thoughts of her own project fled her mind as she turned to the boy. "Did you finish drawing your face already?"

He shook his head and instead gestured to her set up, with the picture and Sharpie marker. "Are you going to carve that into the pumpkin?"

"You bet! I've won contests with that face!" She nodded her head at the portrait she'd gotten off the Internet with a smile. Her expression became mischievous. "Why? Do you think I can't do it?"

The boy's eyes were disbelieving and she couldn't help but giggle.

"Tell you what," she said in her most persuasive voice. She leaned down with her hands on her knees so that she could meet the little boy's eyes. "You pick one of your brothers. If I can impress him with my pumpkin-carving skills, NO pranks for a month."

Frankie was now sporting his 'wheeling-and-dealing' face, which was almost enough to elicit a laugh from his baby-sitter. He stroked his chin thoughtfully. "And if you lose?"

"You get my pay for watching you tonight."

The boy's eyes widened. His parents were paying Macy a lot for her services. She had given up a chance to go to a big party with all of her friends that night to watch him.

"You're on!" the boy said with a wide grin, sticking out his hand. Macy shook it firmly before she turned back to her pumpkin.

"Who'll it be, then, Frankie-man?" Macy asked as she picked up her Sharpie again. The boy hummed for a moment or so, though they both knew who he would pick. Two of his brothers were far too easily impressed, leaving him with only one option. Still, whether she was expecting it or not, the brunette couldn't help a smirk when she heard his answer.

Two hours, three bowls of pumpkin innards, and several Wet-Naps later…

"Whoa, Frankie! Careful!"

Macy had never known that a paring knife could be dangerous. However, as she gently wrested the small instrument from the young man's hands, she could see that she was going to have to do an entire re-evaluation. The boy's grip on the thing had been nothing short of suicidal; and Macy really didn't feel like explaining to the Lucas parents why their son could no longer boast about having ten perfect digits.

"Look, little man," Macy began. She took the boy's hand in hers and wrapped it around the handle of the knife in proper fashion. "Unless you're Jack the Ripper, you don't want to hold the knife like that. Hold it like this and there's a lot more control on the way the blade moves. See?" She kept her grip on his hand as she helped him carve out the nose of the pumpkin.

"Oh!" Frankie said. He smiled up at his sitter. "Thanks!"

Macy smiled back and let go of his hand, content with his improved grip. She kept a careful eye on him as she picked up the big knife to continue with her own nearly-finished lantern. She was just about to carve out a few more small slivers that would give definition to the nose of her pumpkin face when the sound of someone sliding down one of the fire poles caused her to jump.

"OHMYGOD!" she yelled, whirling around to see who was in the supposedly empty house with her and her charge. The knife fell from her hand when she recognized the mop of curly hair. "N-N-Nick!"

"Macy?" he said, sounding a little groggy. She realized that he was merely wearing a tank top and a pair of sweatpants and blushed. He staggered their way. "What're you doing here?"

"I should ask you the same thing!" Macy cried, darting forward to pick up the knife before Nick could step on it. She beat a hasty path to the sink, turning her back on the JONAS member. She knew instinctively when he followed her—how could she not when she was Macy Misa, Number One Super Fan? As she ran water over the knife to clean it, she continued in a somewhat hysterical voice, "Shouldn't you be at the costume party?"

"I was feeling sick," he said behind her. "I decided not to go."

"O-oh."

Macy turned around with the knife and jumped again when she saw how close he was standing. The blade was in the hand farthest from him, so he didn't get cut, but it was an EXTREMELY close call. "Oh my JONAS!" the girl gasped. "Don't stand so close to me when I've got a knife!"

Nick's raised eyebrow caused her to flush and she skirted carefully around him in order to go back to her pumpkin. She glared at the smug little boy at the table.

"What?" Frankie asked, innocence shining in his large brown eyes.

"You couldn't have told me your brother stayed home?" she hissed accusingly.

He just gave her a cheeky grin. "You didn't ask."

"Oh!" Macy pursed her lips in frustration and abruptly turned her back on him to finish with her pumpkin.

"Macy? Are you sure you can—?" Nick cut himself off when he saw how carefully and precisely she was carving slivers out of the lantern. "Wow."

"Wow?" she repeated. Her eyebrows raised and she turned a little to give him an incredulous look.

Nick slowly drew closer, less concerned about the fact that Macy Misa the Hallway Hazard was holding a knife and more curious as to what she was carving. Wavy hair? Glasses? "Is that Elvis Costello?"

"The one and only," said the brunette She picked up the picture she had used as a model for her drawing earlier and handed it to him. "I won the pumpkin carving competition at the Honeyduke County Fair when I was fourteen with this picture."

"Honeyduke?" Nick said flatly.

Frankie looked up with interest. "Is that in Indiana, Macy?"

"You bet, little man!" She finally set down her knife and grinned, ruffling the boy's hair. She glanced at her watch. "Oh, shoot! We need to get you into your costume."

She began to lead Frankie away to help him into his hobo costume, leaving behind a thoroughly confused Nick. "Indiana?"

Before he knew what he was doing, he was following them up the stairs and listening to Macy boast about how she'd 'won the bet.'

Three hours, several houses, and endless laughs later…

"Wait, wait!" Macy said, punctuating her interjection with a series of giggles. "You locked them in the Stellavator?"

Nick nodded enthusiastically, finding himself smiling as she laughed. "It was the only thing I could think of that would shut them up."

"So what happened? Did you find them making out on the floor?"

"Well, Joe was on the floor…" Nick said.

Macy broke down laughing again. "Don't tell me; he started being all arrogant and stupid and she hit him with a shoe!" At Nick's nod, she only began laughing harder. "Oh, wow. I haven't laughed that much since Kevin actually tried the mystery meat in the cafeteria."

"Oh, now that was a great day!" said her companion, laughing himself. "It was proven that mystery meat takes exactly 1.28 seconds to go through the average teenage body!"

Now Macy's giggles were so powerful that she had to lean on Nick for support. As she let out a particularly squeaky snort, Frankie came back down the driveway of the house. "Can we please save the flirting for later? I've got two more blocks to hit up before ten!"

The two teenagers traded a glance and stepped hastily away from each other, despite the chill in the air. Macy's face was once again beet red, reminding Nick of what had happened while they were getting ready.

"Sorry about this," Macy murmured quietly. A bit of steel crept into her voice as she heard Nick shut the door behind him. "Stella said that the harder she made it for me to get in and out of this thing, the less trouble I would cause."

The boy chuckled a bit as he reached for the straps. "I think I've heard her say stuff like that to Kevin and Joe."

His fingers brushed her back and he thought he heard her gasp—but that could have just been from the embarrassment of having to ask him for help. Even so, he couldn't help the urge to take his time, slowly connecting the ends of the white elastic. When his fingertips again came in contact with the warm, smooth skin on her back, he noticed another intake of breath.

So, he wasn't the only one on edge.

"Not you?" the girl choked out.

He looked up and met her eyes in the mirror, confused by the question.

"I mean, Stella's never said anything like that to you?" she reiterated.

He smiled faintly and leaned in to whisper in her ear. He knew he shouldn't be doing this—not with Macy, anyway—but he just… couldn't help himself. It was as if seeing her like this, in merely a lacy bra and a skirt he was sure would earn Stella a stern talking-to, was breaking down all of his barriers and adamant denials.

His voice was husky as he whispered, "Didn't you know? I'm the well-behaved one."

They had arrived at another house and Frankie was taking his time, chatting up the friendly ghost that had answered the door.

"I never did tell you that I like your costume," Nick said after a long moment of silence.

"Oh?" said the brunette. She looked down at the pleated white skirt and daringly tailored top. "I'm going to have a very long talk with Stella about the length of this skirt. And the way my collar is cut."

Looks fine to me, thought Nick. But he quickly shook the thought away, instead saying, "I think it's nice. You look like an angel."

Macy blushed, but smiled nonetheless. "You're just saying that because I have wings."

"I am not!" He smiled at her and fingered one of the small, feathered things. Frankie came back down the driveway before he could say anything else and they moved on to the next house, but he noticed something very… strange about the costume. "Macy?"

She turned her eyes from the front door of the house, where Frankie was now 'flirting' as best as a nine-year-old could with a very pretty blonde witch. "Yes?"

"Were you the person that beat Joe at that eBay auction for our Cherub Bootcamp wings?"

"What?" she asked. Her cheeks immediately burned pink, a solid confirmation. "I, well… Would it be creepy if I said yes?"

The Lucas boy gave it some serious thought, before finally saying, "Would you believe it if I said no?"

"Really?" she breathed. "You don't find it weird?"

"Not when they look better on you than they did on me," Nick said with a little smirk.

"How do you know they're your wings?"

"Besides the tag that says Property of Nick Lucas?"

"Oh."

And now Frankie was back and he once again rolled his eyes. "Let's go! I don't have time to watch you flounder around in your UST all night!"

When the youngest Lucas walked up the next driveway, Nick turned to Macy with a sheepish look on his face.

"Look, I'm sorry about Frankie," he said quickly, but Macy cut him off with a smile and a dismissive wave.

"It's fine," she said. "He's a really great kid. I love to babysit him."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Nick said. "I mean his little accusations. I've tried to talk to him about saying embarrassing stuff like that, but he just doesn't seem to get it."

"Embarrassing stuff like what?" asked the girl. She seemed innocent enough, so Nick explained further.

"Flirting; UST," he said, lowering his voice. "I don't know where he gets these ideas."

There was something in her eyes that flickered for a moment, as though she experiencing some kind of emotion she wanted to hide. After a moment, she gave him a very bright smile and laughed. "Neither do I!"

They arrived back at the firehouse an hour before Kevin and Joe were due to arrive home, just as Macy had planned. She dragged a very unwilling Frankie up to the bathroom to wash away his hobo make-up and put him to bed, promising him that his candy would be safe when he woke up in the morning.

"Now go to sleep," she said, dropping a kiss on the boy's forehead. He wrinkled his brow distastefully, but neither could help the grins that spread across their faces. "G'night, little man."

"Goodnight," he said. Just as she was about to get up to leave, he pulled a hand out from under the covers and grabbed her wrist. "Macy?"

"Yeah?" Macy replied, turning back to look him in the eyes. She perched once again on the side of the bed, totally focused on the boy.

"I'm sorry about Nick," he said. His voice, still so young, held enough compassion to have her smiling sadly. "I tried my best, but he just can't seem to take a hint."

"You, my little meddler," she said, ruffling his wet hair, "are far too young for this. I don't care what kind of bet Stella and your brothers made—Nick is not in love with me."

"So you don't deny that you like him?" Frankie asked hopefully.

Macy merely gave him a big, wet kiss on the cheek and said, "Go to sleep, little man. I'll come over tomorrow to have a look at our haul, alright?"

The boy agreed and wiped his face while she crossed the room. She turned off the light and was about to close the door when she heard her charge call out.

"You'd make a great big sister, you know!"

She grinned and left. Finding the living room empty when she went back into the main part of the house, Macy pondered going upstairs to talk to Nick. She really wasn't in much of a mood to deal with his awkwardness, especially after having to deal with Frankie's not-so-subtle attempts to push them together. Deciding that she deserved the time to relax, she sat on the couch and massaged her aching knee. Her back was hurting, too, but she couldn't lean back for the wings. Setting aside her physical ailments, this was also a good time for her to think.

Why did Stella and the Lucas family insist that Nick was in love with her? She'd seen the inside of the boy's locker—the only picture there was one of all of them together. He hadn't been chasing her down in the halls, nor was he trying to spend every free second he had with her. Tonight was the most time she'd spent with him since… well, actually, Wednesday—and today was Friday.

But that didn't mean anything. They were studying for that pop quiz in AP US History. Of course, a majority of the afternoon had been spent debating which Beatles song was the best and which golf club to use for which hole on the local green. But the quiz had only been fifteen questions, anyway. And that was the first time she'd spent an afternoon with him since…

Was it Monday? Or Tuesday? It couldn't have been Monday, because she'd had practice that afternoon. But hadn't he come to that so he could take her home afterward?

Okay, just because she spent the whole week with him (minus Thursday when she'd had to help out at the store) didn't mean that he was in love with her! Joe and Stella spent the same amount… of…

Um.

"Macy?"

She yelped with surprise and turned to see who had interrupted her thoughts. Nick was coming down the stairs for once, instead of using the fire pole. "Give a girl some warning next time!" she admonished, pressing a hand over her racing heart. "I almost had a heart attack!"

He smirked playfully at her as he crossed the room. "I just wanted to be sure it was you and not some angel sitting on my couch."

"Ha, ha," she said drily. "You're soooo funny. Next time, try a joke with some meat on its bones."

Nick merely rolled his eyes at this comment and sat next to the brunette on the couch, still smirking like he was the funniest thing on earth.

"You love me," he said finally. It wasn't a question.

You have no idea, she thought.

WHOA! Bad Macy!

She quickly covered with, "Why, Joe! How you've changed! You look exactly like Nick, but it must be you if those arrogant words are coming out of your mouth!" She held a hand in front of her lips, parted in a surprised 'O' for effect.

"Ha, ha," Nick echoed, now smiling for real as he playfully nudged her with his shoulder. She nudged back, dropping the act and laughing.

"How on earth could everybody think you're sooo in love with me?"

The boy's eyebrows went up, even as a blush started creeping up his neck. "What?"

"What?" Macy said, meeting his shocked eyes. Her own began to widen. "Oh my God, did I just say that out loud?!"

"Yeah," said Nick. "You did. What did you mean, how on earth could they think I'm in love with you?"

Fighting the wave of embarrassment that would cause her to lose her nerve, she shrugged. "How could you have no idea where Frankie gets his little ideas?"

Now Nick's own cheeks were turning pink. "I asked you first," he insisted.

"I asked you second," the brunette countered.

"I still hold that I asked you first and therefore demand an answer first."

"Oh, so now you're demanding things of me?"

And it was at that moment that the front door opened, revealing a very weary Kevin. He stumbled into the firehouse, oblivious to the fight that was going on between his brother and one of his best friends.

"So what if I am?"

"Right," Macy said acidly. While Kevin might not have noticed that they were there, she had noticed Kevin's entrance. "So what if you are. Now, if you'll excuse me, I've got to get home. Your brother is back from the party, so I'm officially off duty. Goodnight, Nick."

She turned and stalked toward the door, leaving the boy to simply stare at her in a state of shock. It was only when her hand was on the door handle that he managed to snap out of it and race across the room. He followed her mindlessly out into the cold night, uncaring of the fact that he'd left his jacket inside.

"Wait!" he called, catching up with her and grabbing her hand. "I need to know what you meant back there."

"No, Nick," the girl spat. "You want to know what I meant." She wrenched her hand from his grasp and glared at the boy, unable to hide her frustration. Her feelings were obvious—they had been from the start. And yet this three-points-shy idiot still pretended that he didn't have a clue. "As if you didn't already."

She turned away from him, but he stopped her once again, this time by grabbing her shoulder. "Macy, what are you talking about?"

"What am I—?" She cut herself off, unable to believe that he was this stupid. "I'm talking about my feelings, Nick! The fact that I'm practically in love with you that you don't seem to get! What the hell kind of genius are you if you can't figure that out? Two years, Nick! TWO YEARS. You want to know where Frankie gets his crazy goddamned ideas? From watching me watch you!"

Nick's eyes were wide now and he was starting to get a little scared. He'd seen Macy go after rival hockey players with less ferocity. He really should have been running, but she'd kind of backed him up against the side of the firehouse. If he didn't do something soon, he'd be cat meat.

"I don't know how you can be so smart and so clueless! I mean, what—"

Macy was cut off by Nick's mouth being pressed solidly over hers. She made a sound, a half-hearted protest, and kind of put her hands on his chest as though she was going to push him away. But there was something about the way he was moving his mouth against hers that turned the protest into a sigh, and her hands hesitated a moment on his chest before they slid up into his hair. She heard a sharp breath and felt his hands on her waist, bringing her closer to him.

"Macy," he mumbled against her lips, sounding urgent in more ways than one. He pulled back slightly so that he could talk to her. "I didn't mean it. With Frankie. I was just…"

"Scared? A little angry? Self-righteous?" the girl suggested.

He raised an eyebrow at her and she smiled sheepishly. "Yes, one of those will work. I was upset that Stella and my brothers would enlist Frankie's help to 'get us together.' I wanted to take things slow this time."

"Slow?" Macy laughed out loud. "You're Nick Lucas. Slow is a hundred miles an hour for you."

"Mace…" he groaned. "Please? I'm trying to get this out."

Her eyes twinkled, but she was silent.

"I love you."

Subject: RE: Don't be mad at me!

To: hellOHgoodBYE-at-jonas-dot-not
From: maySEEMgraceLESS-at-jonas-dot-not

Anna,

I'm not mad. You're doing your job the way I taught you to do it, asking for information politely and promptly. I'm actually surprised that word got around so fast.

Yes, I did go out trick-or-treating with Frankie and Nick Lucas. I babysit Frankie often, and I agreed to do so tonight. Nick felt sick and stayed home from the party that his siblings went to but felt well enough to venture out when I took Frankie trick-or-treating.

I don't want to see any rumors started about this, Anna. If I do, you're in a boatload of trouble.

Oodles of love for my favorite webmaster,
Macy

P.S.—Everyone's been asking, so I'll tell you: my favorite JONAS is… the Bonus JONAS. Because he's not afraid to speak his mind, even if it'll get him in trouble. ;) Oh, and because he helped me get his brother to stop being an idiot tonight.

a/n: So I'm not proud of the ending. At all. But it's done! After THREE AGONIZING WEEKS, it's DONE. Do you know how happy that makes me?

So. This isn't beta'd. It's probably not going to be. I'm just glad that I've finally got my response to the fifth challenge up.

I'm posting this, like, the second I'm finished with these author notes.

Much love to you all!

Beth