"Daddy, daddy!" She tugged on the fabric that pooled around his elbow. "Hurry, hurry! We're gonna be late!"
With a scoff, he playfully bopped her on the nose. "We won't be ready if you keep falling out of your costume."
"Well it's not my fault I'm excited. It's not every day we get to go trick-or-treating with you and mommy."
"Leona," Jack shook his head, "I've been going trick-or-treating with you, your mother, and Jack for the past five years."
"Well... I have a bad memory."
Jack cocked a brow at her. "You throw up every year..."
To that comment, she puffed out her cheeks. "Hey! It's not my fault they put too much candy in my mouth."
"They put it in your pumpkin..." he said while holding up the plastic basket that was indeed shaped like a pumpkin.
Leona rolled her eyes, which caused her father to scowl. "What! The pumpkin goes in my mouth, duh!" She quipped, cheeky as always.
"Uh huh," Jack mused. "Because that's healthy for you."
"It's probably why I throw up," she retorted with her usual dramatic flair. She was a sassy one, much like Jr when he was her age, five.
He didn't want to admit it, but there was something about their personalities that made him smile. It also made him groan because he refused to believe that half of their personalities and traits were passed down from him. There was no way in hell he was the sassy one! He refused to believe it. But Ang wasn't exactly one to sass back or rattle off silly quips and jokes...
"Well?" She snapped her fingers in his face (how she even mastered this skill was beyond Jack because he certainly hadn't!). Finally getting his attention, she twirled around with a large grin on her soft, rounded face. "How do I look, daddy?" she asked in her melodic voice.
Her name is Leona Morrison and she is his everything. His precious little baby girl. His pride and joy. But also the thorn in his side.
Leona was the spitting image of her mother. Lovely, shoulder-length pale blonde hair with sparkling baby blues. She had a full pair of peach lips and a very soft glow to her. Or perhaps Jack was just taking in the Halloween costume just a bit too much as Leona had decided to be a Valkyrie this year. Still, like her mother, Leona had her quirks. She was be impossible to work with. He'd braided her hair at least five different times now and she still managed to get it knotted and ratty. He'd tell her to take off the helmet or remove the wings, but Leona would forbid such suggestions. She made him promise she could go as a Valkyrie this year and, should he break his promise, he wouldn't be allowed to kiss mommy for a weak. He knew it was the only way to keep his promise because there was absolutely no way in hell he'd give up Angela's sweet lips.
Adjusting the winged hat atop her head, Jack smirked. "You look beautiful. Just like your mother." Her beaming made him chuckle. "Why don't you grab your-"
"Dad, dad, dad, dad, dad, dad-"
His brows furrowed as he rose. Leona snickered before running off to fetch Angela. Once she was gone, Jack's attention fell on his smaller half, Jack Jr. "Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack, Jack." He grumbled, hoping the repetitive name calling would end.
"It's funny when you do it," he giggled. "Because you're just saying your name."
Jack's deadpan expression came next. "Get over here," he growled. But Jr was too fast. The cheeky devil bolted from the room. "JAAAAACK!" he huffed while pushing up his sleeves. They were never going to get out of the house at this rate.
"Jack." A sweet, angelic voice whispered to him.
Stopping dead in his tracks, he swiveled his head to seek out the master of such a lovely voice, his wife. "Hmm?" he hummed before his eyes fell on her.
Jaw falling to the floor, Leona quickly hopped to his rescue. "Drool into this bucket, please."
Jack's jaded glare shifted to his offspring as he growled. "Get your brother and get him dressed."
"He doesn't want to be the headless horseman thingy this year. He wants to be a zombie like you." As she said zombie, she started to step awkwardly and groan. "Zombieeeeee!"
Yup, they would never leave the house. They were doomed. Forever trapped inside with their terrible children. He'd never get to show off his Thriller-inspired costume or his drop-dead gorgeous witch of a wife.
Speaking of wife, he looked over at her. He just couldn't keep his eyes off her. Hell, he wasn't sure how he'd keep his hands off her for this long! The lack of fabric around her upper thighs did a number on him. The way her cheeks played peek-a-boo with the flap that cascaded around her ass. Mmmm! And that corset wrapped around her chest, which pushed her bosom up? Oh god. She was no angel. She was all devil. A real tease!
Brushing past their child, Jack leaned into the wall across from her. "Sooooo," he ran a hand through his golden locks, "you come here often?"
Stifling her giggle, Angela nodded. "Weekly. Believe it or not, I might live here." She bobbed her head just a bit as she spoke, which drew forth a growing grin from Jack. She was animated in her own subtle ways.
"Really?" he purred while leaning into her. "Why would you want to live with these brats?" Thumb pointing over her shoulder toward the kids, he shook his head. Still, the grin on his lips refused to vanish.
"It might have something to do with their father." Her finger danced lightly across his cheek. "I might have a crush on him."
"But he's old," Jr cried from the other room.
Jack's eye twitched before his jaw tightened. A vein on his throat spasmed and bulged out.
"Oh here we go," Angela muttered while shaking her head.
"GET YOUR SORRY TUSH OVER HERE!" Jack reeled while running into the other room to tackle his mouthy, know-it-all eight-year-old son.
Angela and Leona managed to synchronize their eye rolls. "Men," the mused together.
Not wanting to waste any more time, Angela stepped toward her daughter. "You look lovely," Angela said while taking a knee. "But let me fix your hair."
"Dad tried but I keep jumping."
"Dad doesn't know the secret." Winking, she pulled out a can of hair spray. "This stuff saves lives."
"You mean hair. You save lives."
"How do you think I get my bangs to stay like this all day?" her nose crinkled as she giggled. Planting a quick peck on her daughter's cheek, she sprayed away at the falling strands of hair. Once secured with the tacky, clear spray, she took Leona's tiny hand. "Come, let's get your brother and father ready."
After an hour passed, they were finally ready to leave the house. Jr was sporting his zombie rags, which was really just one of Jack's old, weathered shirts that they threw in the mud. Angela, being the one with steadier hands, painted on the fine cut lines and stitches, which wrapped sloppily around Jr's throat as well as up and down his arms. Jack managed to paint Jr's face so it looked like he was missing part of his jaw. Both impressed with their work, they stepped into the bathroom to clean up.
Jack only managed to grope his wife a few times before the kiddies decided to interrupt them. Realizing he wasn't get anything until after they went out and filled the kid's buckets with candy, Jack gave up. Planting a kiss on her lips, he muttered, "Guess we'll finish this later."
She chewed her lip before smiling over at her undead partner. "You sure you'll be able to get that thing up? The dead don't have a pulse?" She winked, toying with him but keeping it PG for there were listening ears in the hallway.
"I'm sure I'll manage," his feral, seductive growl followed.
Shaking her head, Angela left the bathroom. Jack followed a few seconds later after slicking back his dyed white hair.
"Buckets?"
"Check," Leona said while holding up hers.
"Check for me too!" Jr wiggled his in front of his father. "And I already got something in mine." Sure enough, his pal moved. Then a tuft of fur curled out the top.
"Jack," Jack sighed, "don't torture the cat."
"Indy doesn't mind," he commented while setting down the plastic bucket to pull out the buff-colored kitten. "See, he doesn't care." Holding up Indy, Jr grinned.
The ceaseless purring could definitely be heard.
"I suppose but he's an indoor kitty. You don't want to lose him, do you?"
Gasping, Jr covered Indy's ears. "Don't say such scary things in front of my purrrrcious baby."
"Really?" Angela looked from Jr to Jack. "Cat jokes, already?" She shook her head. The puns would never end. She was doomed.
"Let's go, let's go!" Leona tugged on her mom's skirt. "We don't have all day!"
"Trick-or-treat," the sang in unison as they greeted the old green hag at the door.
Standing back at the foot of the steps, Angela turned to her husband. "At this rate, we'll be able to go home in no time." Her fingers wrapped around his forearm; she squeezed his muscle. "And we can finish what you started." Wiggling her brows, she cackled lightly.
"Really?" Jack questioned. "Because we should vet the kid's candy before playing our own version of trick-or-treat."
"I've been watching what's been going in their pumpkins. So far, it's been Snickers-"
"Those are clearly poisonous and must be confiscated."
"Jack," Angela shook a finger at him, "you leave those for the kids."
"Fine," he pulled away to pout. "Then I get their Reese's."
Leona approached them while pilfering through her pal. "Here you go," she said while plopping a peanut butter cup in Jack's hand. "Because you've been a good boy." Winking, she skipped back to the sidewalk. "C'mon, slow pokes!" Jr bolted after her and they ran down the dimly lit sidewalk.
"Stay in my sights," Jack scouted to the giggling kids.
"Oh let them have some fun." She twirled her blonde fringe while taking Jack's hand into her own. Tugging him, she pulled him toward the sidewalk.
He wanted to mutter a few things but seeing Angela in the moonlight made him think twice. Pissing her off was a grand way to put an end to his sex.
"Trick-or-treat," they heard the kids say.
"Oh this is gonna be good," Jack snickered. "They think that's a person."
"Wait?" She turned to face Jack, "That's not a person?"
"Nope. The person is in the hay bale."
"H-how?" Her brows furrowed.
"While they were at the last house, I watched the other family get the living shit scared out of them." He shrugged his shoulders toward the creeping pile of hay. "Just watch."
Biting her lip, her hands slowly covered her eyes. "Yeah I'm not sure I want to watch this."
"Oh it's not murder," he huffed.
"But it is our kids getting a heart attack," Ang retorted.
"They're young. They'll be f-" He stopped.
"Jack?" Angela's quivering orbs fell on him. "Jack?" She reached out to touch him, but he didn't move. "Stop," she shook her head. "Stop screwing around, Jack."
A cold chill ran down her spine. The air felt thick. The moon hid behind the clouds. The nearby streetlamp flickered before the bulb burnt out.
"Jack," Angela whimpered, "this isn't funny."
Hugging herself due to the temperature drop, she turned to look at her husband. Only... only he wasn't there.
Eyes widening, she started to panic. Looking around, she sought out every shape and figure that could be him. But there was nothing. Nothing but a fence nearby. Eyes panning forward, she saw the kids giggling at the hay bale. They didn't jump out of their skin. They figured out the trick.
"But where," she mused. Angela looked around again. Where did Jack go? He was here and the-
Something brushed up against her.
Twirling, she stared down at... nothing.
"Okay, Jack, you can stop your tricks." She huffed, now annoyed at his antics. "I'll count until three."
A deep, rumbling laugh filtered into her ears.
"J-Jack?" The light flickered for a second, casting a large shadow in the middle of the road off to her left. "J-Jack," she started to feel her heartbeat quicken.
The owner of the shadow, whatever it was, stepped forward.
"Stop it," she pleaded. "This isn't funny anymore."
"What isn't funny?"
She practically jumped from her skin when Jack's voice came from her side.
"Jesus, Jack," she slapped him. "Stop scaring me."
"Uh... I didn't?"
"Then where have you been?" She narrowed her eyes. "Huh?"
"Miss Samuel's cat escaped. I ran back to help her catch the bastard."
"Ha, ha, funny. And what was that over there?"
Jack looked over toward the darkness she pointed at. "Uh? A tree? The STOP sign? I don't know?"
"No, Jack, that was y-"
The lights flickered. Again, the figured appeared. This time it was closer. Much closer.
Angela rolled her eyes. "Okay st-" He was standing right beside her. H-how...?
"J-Jack?" She grabbed his hand. "How are you doing that?"
"Angela, that isn't me."
"Then..."
The clouds finally cleared away. Breaths held, they waited for the dark figure to become unveiled. Only, as the sky opened, nothing stood before them.
"Maybe we're seeing things?"
"Jack, it laughed."
"It was probably the k-k-k-stop it." He swatted at his wife.
"Stop what?" Her lip quivered.
"Touching my spine," he stated with a hint of fear.
"Jack," she looked at her hands, which were clearly wrapped around his forearm.
Gulping, they did what was necessary and slowly turned back their heads.
"Boo!"
After about fifteen minutes, they finally got their racing hearts to calm. "Jesse McCree," Angela shook a finger at him, "if you ever do that to me again!" she threatened.
"You'll what?" He couldn't stop laughing. "Scream?" His brown eyes shifted to Jack, who was silent throughout the whole ordeal. "And you? What'll you do? Jump into Ang's arms again? Make her crash onto the sidewalk? Have your kids nearly wet themselves from laughing?"
Blush on his face, Jack looked away.
"Uh-huh," Jesse faced Angela again. "Picked a real winner, Angie. A soldier who's afraid of Halloween pranks. Psh," he scoffed.
"Just you wait," Leona stepped forward with her chest puffed out. "Daddy will get you back next year, Uncle Jesse."
"Partner," he leaned down to adjust her falling helmet, "your dad ain't got nothing on this cowboy. I learned from the best." At her curiosity, he laughed. "Gabriel Reyes, the Grand Master Spirit of Halloween."