Disclaimer: I do not buy/sell/own this mindcrack, I just abuse the hell out of it.

Author's Notes: Written for the JELLIE Halloween Exchange and dedicated to the lovely night_lotus.

I know that I've been a huge advocate for John belonging to the Marine Corps in my fanon, but I've decided to try John as an Army Ranger, since it's Halloween and all.

As requested by the recipient of this Halloween fic exchange, one will find "comfort," "rescue," and "pr0n with a plot" within the story.

I have to say, this came to me pretty quickly compared to other stories I've been working on (a.k.a. Shore Leave).

The songs that I listened to for inspiration are "Human Touch" by Bruce Springsteen, "No Ordinary Love" by Sade, and "Father Figure" by George Michael.

Enjoy!

"You're gonna do what?!"

"You heard me," John said as he deftly flipped open several sections of the Sunday paper and began arranging them in overlapping pieces until they covered the dining room table.

"Yeah, but I thought you were kidding," Chuck replied.

"Hey," Ellie called across the breakfast bar, "how 'bout you do this one, handsome?"

"Oh, come on, why can't I have the big pumpkin?" John wheedled before turning back to Chuck. "I never kid about jack o' lanterns, Bartowski. Besides, she asked so nicely – it would have been rude of me to refuse."

"I know this is going to fall on deaf ears," Ellie announced as she placed a very large orange gourd on the counter, "but you men really need to understand that size isn't that important."

"Yeah, and, uh, who picked the one in the patch that's a shoe-in for being selected as the most likely candidate for 'random' drug testing?" John reminded her as he pointed to the absolutely colossal pumpkin she'd hefted onto the bar next to the one she'd designated as his.

Ellie rolled her eyes and tried to scowl as she dried her hands on a dishtowel, but it was useless. She raised her hand, lowered her head and grinned at him. "Guilty as charged."

"Uh-huh," John seconded with a bit of a dimple before adding another layer of newspaper to the top of the table.

"I'm going to change into something a little more splatter-able," Ellie called as she exited the kitchen and made her way down the hall to her bedroom. "Don't start making a mess without me!"

"Okay, you really need to stop that," Chuck hissed as soon as Ellie was out of earshot.

"Stop what?" John asked as he placed one of the pumpkins on the newspaper-covered surface.

Chuck crossed his arms and attempting to look menacing. "Flirting with my sister."

John stood up to his full height and put his hands on his hips as he loomed over the kid. "I am doing no such thing."

"You are, too!" Chuck said, refusing to give ground. "Right in her own home! The home she shares with her very awesome – and might I add, very large – fiancé, who, incidentally, is big enough to take you, even if I can't. It's revolting!"

"What's revolting?" Sarah asked as she joined them.

"Chuck thinks I'm flirting with his sister," John updated her as he sat down and reached for a pencil.

"You are," Sarah confirmed.

"Like I said, "John muttered as he started to trace the top for his pumpkin. "Hey, wait a minute there, Walker – !"

"It's part of his cover," Sarah explained to Chuck as she briskly interrupted, "Ellie is beautiful, warm, and sweet. All of your friends are attracted to her; it would be weird if Casey weren't."

"Right," John said after a beat, and nodded nonchalantly as he carefully inserted the blade of his carving knife diagonally into the tough skin on the top. "All part of the cover."

"See?" Sarah told Chuck. "Nothing to worry about."

"So, are we clean?" John asked her casually as he pulled the knife out.

"Yeah, we're clean," Sarah replied, as she tucked her pocket-sized bug detector into her purse. "Ready to go, Chuck?"

"Yeah, just let me get my wallet," he answered, heading to his room.

Sarah folded her arms. "Um, Casey?"

"Yeah, Walker?" he replied, carefully making another incision.

"I know you don't need someone to tell you how to do your job," she began slowly, "but I think maybe Chuck has a point."

John looked up at her, his face blank and emotionless.

"It would probably be a little easier on him if you weren't so…friendly with Ellie," she finished.

"You're right," John said, looking her in the eye as he removed the blade from the skin, rotated the pumpkin a little more, and thrust it back in. "I don't need someone telling me how to do my job."

"I didn't mean – "

"Just because you –" stab! "– have trouble maintaining your –" stab! "– professional –" stab! "– distance –" stab! "– doesn't automatically that mean –" stab! "– that I do."

"Casey, people are talking," Sarah said quietly.

"And just what is it that they're saying?" he muttered, executing another sharp plunge.

"They're…"

He looked up at her, cocked his head to the side, raised his eyebrows. "They're…?"

"They're taking bets on how long it'll be until you end up in bed with her," she finished. "They've all commented on it. Carina's got five hundred on Thanksgiving, and Montgomery's only got fifty on it, and he says he's holding out for Easter on account of your past difficulties with seduction. Bryce even put money on it before he left, though he thinks it won't happen until after the mission is over."

"Beckman say anything?"

"Not yet."

John returned his attention to his pumpkin, chewing on the inside of his cheek as he considered her words.

"I wouldn't have brought it up, except that Chuck's started to notice," she added.

He rotated his pumpkin again and slowly slid the knife into the flesh. "I'm not gonna pretend like the chemistry's not there. She is an amazing woman."

" – I sense a 'but' coming – "

"But she's not my type," he said, completing the last cut.

"What? She seems exactly your type – dark hair, long legs, intelligent –"

John put the knife down on the table, grasped the stem of the pumpkin and began gently prying the nearly-severed top from the body. "She's way out of my league, Walker. Guy like me, things I've done – I'm not good enough to even touch her. I know it, she knows it, Malibu Ken knows it. It's why he doesn't get twitchy when I'm hanging with his girl and there's no one else around."

Sarah opened her mouth to say something, but Ellie and Chuck walked into the room and further conversation on that topic was tabled for the moment.

"Wow, that top is perfect!" Ellie observed as she sat down and admired John's handiwork. "I can't ever get mine to do that. How did you do it? Can you show me your technique?"

"Sure," he replied, smiling at her as he began trimming the stringy bits of pumpkin innards from the bottom of the newly carved lid. "But first, can we get a bowl for the entrails before they get all over the table?"

"Coming right up!" she said, jumping out of her seat and heading for the kitchen.

Is she wearing a bra? John wondered as he watch the way her black tank top molded to her back without a break in the fabric.

"Ready, sweetie?" Chuck asked Sarah, with a nervous nod towards the door.

"Ready, sweetie," she replied, sliding her hand into his.

"Aren't they adorable?" Ellie asked him as she returned with a mid-sized metal spoon and the biggest mixing bowl he'd ever seen.

John watched Sarah lace their fingers together while Chuck opened the door for her with his other hand.

"Sure," he grunted, glancing up in their general direction. Bartowski shot him a warning look, and John had to work hard to keep from giving the kid a middle-digit salute. "Adorable."

"So," Ellie said, setting the bowl down as she settled into the chair nearest to him and fluttered her eyelashes. "Tell me, O Great Pumpkin Carving Master, is there a special trick to your procedure?"

"Uh, yeah," he replied, trying to break eye contact with her as he reached for the knife.

It was impossible, though, at that moment: she was smiling at him, all warmth and openness and innocent invitation, and he wanted nothing more than to pull her onto his lap and brush his lips up and down the side of her neck and – God, he didn't know – drown himself in her for the next hundred years…

"Ow!"

"Oh no!"

"Mother puss bucket!" he swore under his breath as he surveyed the damage. He had sliced open the pad of flesh between the palm of his hand and the first knuckle of his pinkie finger – it was oozing blood and stinging like a goddamn motherfuckin' sonuvabitch.

"Here, let me see," she said softly as she reached for his injured hand.

"No, it's okay, just show me the medicine cabinet," he said, applying pressure.

"John," she coaxed. "You're bleeding. Let me see."

He steeled himself for the rush of awareness that came whenever she touched him. It scared the shit out of him, the way the briefest brush of her fingers against his made him forget what he was thinking, what he was saying, what he was doing. It made him want things, things he had no business wanting.

"It's not too bad," she said as she examined the wound with a critical eye. "A little Neosporin and some tape, and you'll be good to go. I'll wrap it so tight that you won't even know you've nicked yourself."

"You don't have to – "

"Yes, I do," she told him, standing up and grabbing his uninjured hand. "Into the bathroom with you."

Ellie tested the water before she guided John's hand under the stream and turned it slowly this way and that to wash away the blood. "Does that hurt?"

"Stings a bit," he admitted grudgingly. He'd been in pain worse than this, and he'd never once complained – it wasn't in his nature to whine. Unfortunately, the characteristics he'd chosen in the creation of John Casey, Buy More-on at Your Service, required him to pretend to be the kind of candy-assed wuss who'd flinch at a paper cut. That sucked royally, especially since he ended up getting injured around Ellie more often than he'd like to admit. "Sorry. I'm not usually klutzy like this. Don't know what's gotten into me."

She smiled up at him as she patted his hand dry and then blew softly on it. John's breath caught as he felt something warm and tender flow from his finger, up his arm, and into his ribcage. It was as if she'd infected the cut with a little of her spirit when she exhaled. He wondered if kissing her would feel the same.

"Yeah, you do seem to be getting into all sorts of scrapes lately," she said as she got a little closer and used the tip of her middle finger to daub Neosporin onto his flesh. "Something distracting you?"

She was so close to him that he could now tell quite clearly that she was not wearing a bra. His eyes crossed as he sucked in his breath and tried to think about not getting a hard-on.

Uh, yes.

He was having a hard time concentrating an anything besides how long it would take to get his finger wrapped, get them both naked, and have a good ol' time getting steamy in the shower.

"Besides fending off the ravaging hordes of trick-or-treaters on Saturday night?" John twisted his lips and shook his head. "Nope, don't think so."

She reached for a Band-Aid and quickly stripped the packaging from it before wrapping it around his finger. "Don't worry, we don't get that many of them after nine o'clock."

"Good to know," he said, closing his eyes as her hair brushed against his wrist.

"So, what are you going as?" she asked him as she wrapped a length of tape around the Band-Aid.

If he flexed his fingers the slightest bit, they would be brushing against her breast. He wrenched his mind back up from the gutter. "For what?"

"For the Halloween party," she prompted him.

Considering that I'm playing a role 365 days a year, it might be a welcome change to drop the cover for a night…

The words were out of his mouth before he could stop them. "I don't know, maybe myself?"

She gave him a look that told him that, while she was amused, she was not impressed.

"We'll just have to see," he stalled. "What about you?"

"I'm thinking a black cat. I've gone very elaborate the past two years, and I want something simple this time. Ears and a tail are just about the level of maintenance I'm willing to go for."

"Understandable. I'm a fan of simple myself," he said.

She shifted her weight and chewed on her lip. "So…"

"So…?"

As far as John could tell, they were done in here, but she wasn't making a move to leave. No, it fact it looked she seemed to be stalling for time. Not to mention that she didn't need to stand so close – the bathroom was huge by apartment standards, but here she was, in his space of her own volition.

It wasn't the first time they'd been in this position. It was happening more and more often, and it wasn't him who was initiating it; she was. If he hadn't known better, he would have thought that she wanted him to kiss her.

He decided to try something.

He took a tiny step back from her.

She stepped forward and closed the gap.

In that moment, he got what Chuck and the others had seen on the video monitors: she was into him, big time, and she was probably unconscious of it, too.

Oh holy fuck….this could get complicated.

He cleared his throat and wiped his mind clean of the dirtiest of the thoughts that had inundated it in the past five minutes. "So we've got some pumpkins to carve, right?"

"Right!" she said with a bright, almost forced laugh as she took a step back.

"Then let's get to it," he suggested, motioning her towards the door.

"Sorry, gotta clean up first," she said, turning to the sink where the tools of her trade were splayed out. "Be right there!"

He left her to return to the table. As he sat down, he picked up the knife by its handle and gripped it with his injured hand. The wrapping flexed perfectly with the pressure, and there was no pain.

She'd make one hell of a field medic, he told himself as he put the knife down and reached for the spoon. But she'd probably be the busiest person in the platoon – patching up all those losers who're too busy moonin' after her to keep their asses from getting shot up.

Ellie hopped into the chair next to him, pulled her enormous pumpkin towards her, picked up the knife, and started making scary sounds á la Psycho as she took a few preliminary stabs at the air. "Okay, I'm ready!"

"All right, now that's adorable," he said before he could stop himself.

"Well, I try," she replied, scrunching her nose at him.

John's toes curled as he felt that familiar surge of emotion overload his circuits whenever she grinned at him.

For a whole ten seconds he wished that things were different, that he could be someone who was good enough to be with her, a banker, a lawyer, a doctor…hell, he might even be willing to trade places with Captain Dumbass, M.D., just for one night, if it meant that he could hold her, kiss her, show her how he felt about her.

"Whoa, wait a minute!" she said, putting the knife down and taking off her engagement ring and putting it in her pocket before picking up the pencil. "Don't wanna have to clean pumpkin guts out of that thing. Now, where were we?"

"I believe we were about to begin trepanning your gourd," he said, putting a scoop of gooey seeds into the mixing bowl.

"So in addition to practicing brain surgery on vegetables, you are also a connoisseur of fifty-cent words? I'm going to have to claim you for my team on Scrabble night, mister," she informed him as she drew a line to use as a guide for her knife.

"Name the date and the time, and I'm all yours, baby girl," John quipped easily as he scraped his spoon around the rim of his pumpkin.

Ellie didn't say anything in response, which he thought odd.

He looked up at her as he deposited his next round of squishy orange viscera into the bowl.

Even though she was pretending to concentrate on her pumpkin, her hair was pulled back from her face and he could see that her cheeks had taken on a color similar to the leaves of the sugar maples at the height of autumn back in his New England hometown.

Was it something I said? he wondered.

Then he realized exactly what he'd said.

And how she'd taken it.

Now it was his turn to blush.

"Have you ever seen Firefly?" he asked casually as he returned his attention to scooping. "Chuck said I'd make a good Jayne Cobb for Halloween. All I need is a goatee, a really big gun, and something called a 'cunning hat.'"

"Is that what that was?" Ellie asked, grasping at the out. "Not bad. Yes, I've seen Firefly – I think it's pretty good. Shame it was canceled before Jayne and River could get together."

"Yeah," John agreed, keeping his tone relaxed in an effort to lower the tension. "Everyone thinks he was into Kaylee or Inara, but any fool could've seen what was going on between those two."

"The best part of it was imagining how her brother was going to react if they ever did hook up and he found out about it," Ellie declared wickedly as she picked up her knife and looked him in the eye. "Two by two…hands of blue…"

"Hey, cut that out before you cut me up, lady," John ordered in a semi-offended tone.

She just grinned at him primly and waited for instruction.

John let out the breath he'd been holding as he felt his muscles relax, relieved that he'd managed to turn the focus of conversation into less dangerous waters. These moments of being fully cognizant of the intense mutual attraction that they had for each other were coming more and more often.

He had to be careful, or something was going to happen.

Something he couldn't play off as harmless flirting.

"Okay, you want to make the insertions at an angle, so as to form a lip inside of the pumpkin…"