A/N – Written for the CCOAC Masquerade Challenge!

Disclaimer – Not mine. I just have way too much fun playing.

The lights were dimmed in the bullpen when Hotch eventually left his office. Most of the team had disappeared the moment that they got back from Atlanta; Reid and Garcia had apparently managed to cajole Morgan and Prentiss into joining them for a movie marathon and, Morgan's good natured complaining aside, they seemed pretty into the idea. JJ and Will were taking Henry for his first evening out trick or treating. Dave was still in his office, and Hotch knocked softly on the door.

"I'm heading home. Jessica will have Jack back in a hour or so."

"And he'll be high on so much sugar that neither of you will get much sleep tonight," Dave grinned, putting his pen down and pressing the tips of his fingers together, "Good luck with that."

"Thanks," Hotch said sarcastically, "You heading out?"

"Nope. I'm staying here as long as I can, until all the little monsters have been dragged home and won't be knocking on my door."

"Bah humbug," Hotch murmured, "Good night, Dave."

"Night."

It certainly wasn't Hotch's first late night in the office, and the silence of the normally bustling environment didn't bother him. The only sound in the room apart from his breathing was the slight scuffing of his shoes on the carpeted floor. He stopped briefly at Reid's desk to add a file to the neat stack that he thought the young man might find of interest, and just for a moment after he stopped he thought that he could still hear the sound of shoes on carpet. Looking up sharply to see that the room was still empty, he mentally shook himself and carried on his way; it was the nature of the day, Halloween, creeping into his subconscious. Between them, Jack and Reid had been talking about it non-stop for days. It was bound to have affected him a little.

The glass door creaked slightly when he pushed it open, and the sound of his shoes changed as the carpet ran out. The corridor outside was empty, but when he stopped again to wait for the elevator, there was a distinct sound of movement from just around the corner. It didn't sound like footsteps. It sounded like…dragging. Like someone was moving by pulling their feet along. And there was a low moan as well, constant and drawn out. Irritated at his slightly elevated heartbeat, Hotch took an only half confident step towards the sound. The moaning got louder as he got closer and his steps slowed a little. Taking a deep breath that he resented needing, he stepped around the corner and ran straight into a horribly disfigured person. Hunched over, so pale it was white and covered in what looked suspiciously like blood, the figure fixed red eyes on Hotch and cocked its head. It looked like…a zombie. But that was-

Hotch stepped sharply back, his hand actually straying to the gun on his hip, and then the figure straightened up and grinned apologetically.

"Agent Hotchner! I'm so sorry. I didn't know anyone was here."

The second his blood had stopped pounding in his ears, Hotch looked closely at the man and realised who it was.

"Anderson? What are you doing?"

"I'm going to a party," he shrugged, "I didn't have time to go home first so I got ready here. And I was…practicing. I'm sorry if I startled you, sir."

Anderson looked so sheepish, even with the zombie make up covering his face that Hotch couldn't help but feel a little bit sorry for him.

"It's alright, Anderson. I just wasn't expecting to see anyone, that's all."

They walked companionably to the elevators and waited in silence, riding down to the parking structure in more silence. Anderson bounced on his heels and looked remarkably like he was fighting the urge to whistle. Watching him from the corner of his eye, Hotch realised that he really knew nothing about this man. Maybe it was time to learn something.

"That's a great job you did on your makeup."

"Thanks," Anderson nodded, "I always make an effort for my nephews. My sister asked me to be a surprise guest at their party."

"How old are they?"

"Three, seven and ten. Great little guys. I'm going to scare the crap out of them."

"I'm sure they'll love it," Hotch smiled, stepping out into the parking lot, "Have a good evening."

"You too, Agent Hotchner," Anderson replied, moving towards his own car. It was the longest non -work related conversation the two had ever held, and he suddenly felt brave enough to ask a question that he had wanted to ask for a long time.

"Agent? How's Jack? If you don't mind me asking?"

"He's doing well, thank you," Hotch turned before he got into his car, "He's living proof that kids bounce back."

"That's good. See you tomorrow, Agent."

And with that, Anderson was gone. Thoughtfully, Hotch watched him leave, placing his jacket neatly on the seat beside him. Then, with a small smile playing on his lips, he started out for home.