"BZZZZZZZZZZZT! BZZZZZZZZZZZT!"

Keith Kogane had every intention of ignoring the door buzzer, or at least he did until the voice belonging to his older brother called out from somewhere in the region of Shiro's bedroom:

"Keith, could you get that? It should be Allura."

Keith groused a little at having to pause his session on Mad Max, but he set the Xbox controller down and unlatched the apartment door.

The sight of Allura Altea dressed in a Batwoman costume (not one of the store-bought ones, but something more professionally-made) greeted Keith on the far side of the doorframe, and she smiled brightly upon seeing him.

"Keith! Happy Halloween!"

"Hey Allura." He half-smiled back, giving her room to step over the threshold.

"And Happy Birthday." She added, producing a wrapped gift from a backpack she'd been carrying. "Sorry I wasn't able to stop by on the day itself."

"Thanks. And don't worry about it." He responded as he accepted the gift. "Would you like anything while you wait for Shiro?"

"Water please." She politely requested. Keith nodded, and tucking the present under one arm, he disappeared into the kitchenette. He returned quickly with a glass tumbler of water, and passed it over to her. As she took a sip, he turned his attention to the gift Allura had given him.

Ripping away the paper, he was presented with a copy of Deadpool. He smirked in approval.

"Thanks Allura." He nodded, holding the DVD up.

"I'm relieved; I'm never sure what to get you when it comes to presents."

He shrugged amiably. "That's one of the perks from being with Shiro."

"-That's one of the perks from dating me." Takashi 'Shiro' Shirogane's voice near-echoed as he stepped into the living room, only to almost screech to a halt at the sight of his girlfriend. Keith didn't bother to cover his amused smirk; it never got boring seeing his brother get flustered in front of his other half. "Wow. You look amazing."

The white-haired woman blushed, and gave him an appreciative smile. "Thank you, you scrub up pretty well yourself as Hal Jordan."

"I try." Shiro responded with play-modesty.

"What are you going as, Keith?" Allura asked, turning her attention back to the younger of the two brothers.

Keith felt a little guilty in that moment, as she waited patiently only for him to reply:

"I'm… Not going as anything. I'm staying in tonight."

"Oh." She responded, though she tried to mask her disappointment.

"I thought we were going to hang out like we usually do on Halloween?" Shiro questioned.

Keith shrugged non-committedly. "I wasn't really feeling it tonight; I'd kinda prefer to get some more gaming in instead."

Shiro cast a brief glance towards the paused game, before he folded his arms across his chest with a shake of the head. "You didn't do anything on your birthday last weekend, so we're making up for it tonight."

Keith blanched. "But… Shiro, I'm happy just relaxing here instead!"

"Sorry, but getting out will be good for you." His adoptive older brother added with that familiar brotherly/fatherly smile.

Keith might almost be impressed with how quickly Shiro had worked, were it not for the fact he really just wanted to stay home. His brother had dug out some spare liquid latex, face paints, stage blood and grunge in a tube, and in fifteen minutes had transformed Keith into something resembling a basic zombie (although Keith had reluctantly changed out of his favorite red hoodie for an old one he was willing to have 'gored' up up).

"There we go, and we've got 'R' from Warm Bodies." Shiro announced proudly, admiring his work.

"Rrrrrrr." Keith deadpanned unenthusiastically.

"Or 'K', in this case." Allura noted with a smile.

"Happy now?"

"Yes." Shiro nodded affably. "We'd better get going or we're going to be late."

Keith began to shamble/zombie-walk towards the door. Shiro, with a slight sigh of impatience, firmly pressed his palm against Keith's back and guided his younger brother out of the apartment with greater speed.

Hunk Garrett glanced at his cell phone for the third time in nearly six minutes, a feat made the more difficult by his lion costume.

Lance McClain favored him with an exaggerated eye roll. "Would you give yourself a break? She'll be here."

"But what if there's traffic… Or her costume is difficult to walk in… Or… Or muggers! What if there are Halloween muggers, Lance?!"

"Hunk." Lance cut in, adding emphasis to his friend's name to get through Hunk's panic. "She texted you ten minutes ago to say she's on her way, she's probably got… Like… Four minutes at most before she even starts to be late, and Shay is never late."

"I know… But… It's not just if she's late, but what if she doesn't like my costume?"

"You guys coordinated your costumes, you'll be alright. Won't he, Pidge?"

Over on the couch, Pidge Holt gave a thumbs-up, the majority of their attention still focused on their laptop. They were dressed as a Borg from Star Trek.

"See?" Lance gave a theatrical gesture towards the thumbs-up. "Pidge thinks you look fine, I think you look fine. Shay will think you look fine."

Hunk mulled the point over, but still seemed unconvinced. Lance wanted to run a hand through his hair in frustration, but he refrained from doing so, knowing the action would muss up the fake werewolf ears he'd spent ages getting to look just right.

There was the sound of a dog barking, a recording of Shay's pet Border Terrier (Periclase, normally shortened to just 'Peri'), which the two had jokingly chosen as the sound to go with her text messages. Hunk whipped his phone out at the sound, and suddenly looked panicked again. "Ohmygodshe'shere."

Lance clamped a hand down on each of Hunk's shoulders. "Hunk, your words are running together, chill."

Hunk took a few deep breaths, and gave Lance a shaky smile. The werewolf gave him a friendly smirk in reply and went to buzz Shay up. He grabbed the door handle and kept watch in the hallway until he saw a familiar flow of brown hair appearing from the stairwell. Shay Eiden had been dating Hunk for about six months now, and this would be their first Halloween as a couple.

Shay smiled as she spotted Lance's head and upper body hanging out of the doorway. "It is good to see you again Lance."

"Shay, always a pleasure." he smiled back, shooting her a finger gun. She suppressed a laugh but wasn't able to hide the slight pink tinge to her cheeks. He retreated a little and let the door open further so she could enter. "Great costume."

"Thank you." she nodded, performing a curtsy with the hem of her Dorothy Gale gingham dress.

Hunk's face was flushed as he greeted Shay, but it was nothing but endearing. Lance felt it rather sweet that even half a year on, they still got a cute level of nervous when seeing each other… Though they were normally a bit less unsettled on other days. The costumes were surely to blame in this instance. Pidge had privately remarked she thought it was getting a bit gross, and Lance had responded with an appropriately-scandalized look.

Lance hopped onto the sofa beside Pidge so that he could give the lovebirds a moment to themselves, Pidge didn't respond to the sudden presence or movement, still focused on their computer.

"We about done, Seven of Whine?"

They made an amused scoffing nose. "I'm Five of Nine; you'd be 'Seven'." They let their lips curl into a sly smile as the inside joke of their Borg name sailed over Lance's head. "And yeah, I just need to save this…" they hit the floppy disk icon, saving the screen of coding they'd been working on. "And I'm done."

As Pidge set the laptop down on the coffee table, Lance somersaulted back over the couch, and clapped his hands together upon landing, turning to address the two escapees from the land of Oz.

"You two good to go, or would you like another minute?"

"Lance." Pidge's voice carried a threatening note.

"We're… We're good." Hunk bubbled enthusiastically.

Lance approached the couple, with Pidge following closely in tow. "You're in for a treat tonight Shay, one of the benefits of dating Hunk is getting introduced to a Seattle institution: the Halloween party at Coran's."

"'Coran's'?" she asked in interest.

"It's like the greatest place to go for Halloween… or Christmas, or the Fourth of July… there's music, themed drinks and food, and Coran… you're gonna love him!" Hunk gushed.

"I look forward to it." She smiled, caught up in his enthusiasm.

Lance glanced at the time on his phone. "Things should just be getting going by the time we get there." He smiled, and pulling up the music collection on his phone, he lead the group of young adults out into the night just as the Yeah Yeah Yeahs began to sing:

"Off with your head!
Dance 'til you're dead
Heads will roll!
Heads will roll!
Heads will roll… On the floor!"

Coran's was a corner bar nestled away in Beacon Hill, and had become pretty popular amongst Seattlites for its lively atmosphere, its selection of drinks and the proprietor's colorful personality. The bar had also gained a reputation for its festive parties, including the annual 'Halloween Hootenanny'.

The brick-clad facade and neon signage beckoned to Keith, and he had to acknowledge that now that he was out and mere feet from the entrance to the bar, his reluctance and reservations about going out were starting to melt away.

They pushed through the double doors; the entranceway adorned with cotton cobwebs and paper bats, and stepped into the busy interior. The night had just begun, yet the bar was already boasting a wide assortment of costumes and fandoms. Seasonal music was playing out across the music system, and they'd entered part-way through Eel's Fresh Blood:

"…The moon shines on the autumn sky
Growin' cold the leaves all die
I'm more alone than I've ever been
Help me out of the shape I'm in…"

Keith trailed behind Shiro and Allura as they made their way to the bar, he'd been to Coran's more than a few times since he'd turned 21, but this was the first time he'd been able to legally visit the place for Halloween, though that hadn't stopped him from hearing about the bar's past costume parties.

Shiro and Allura perched themselves against the granite-topped counter, and they offered a smile to a man with ginger hair that looked like it wouldn't be out of place in the 1950s, although such a style was probably popular in hipster circles. Coran Hieronymus Wimbleton Smythe was a man who presented a disarming exterior, allowing him to surprise many a patron with his broad skill sets and knowledge.

Never one to turn down the chance to get into the spirit of whichever holiday they were celebrating at the bar, he wore a cravat, waistcoat and a vampire cape. Smiling with warmth unbecoming of his choice of costume, he welcomed them with an enthusiastic embrace he shared with all of his patrons.

"Shiro! Allura! I was starting to worry you'd gone somewhere else tonight." the distinct clip of an Auckland accent enveloped them.

"We'd never do that to you." Allura playfully reassured. "We'd never miss one of your parties."

"You make an old man feel young again." Coran smiled, puffing out his chest and giving his moustache a tweak. "And I see that young Mr. Kogane is joining us this evening."

Keith offered Coran a shy smile and brief wave. "Hey."

The older man adopted a contemplative look. "Hmm, your skin suggests zombie… and your hoodie is quite unique as there haven't been many undead creatures depicted wearing them in popular media yet. Would you be 'R' from Warm Bodies, perhaps?"

Keith's eyes widened. "How?"

Shiro turned his head to face his younger brother. "I should've warned you, Coran prides himself in being able to work out some of the less obvious costumes."

"They don't call me 'Coranbo' for nothing. Because it's a bit like 'Columbo'. So… Coranbo, Columbo. It's not… It doesn't sound… Exactly like that. It's similar. Anyway!" Coran brightened, moving on from his tangent. "I hear it was somebody's birthday recently."

Keith felt more self-aware than he would've liked. "Uh, yeah."

"First drink's on the house, what would you like?"

Keith and Allura both watched Keith as he considered the options.

"What would you recommend?"

Coran smiled in challenge. "Hmm, I vaguely recall you saying you were born in Texas before you came to live in this fair city… I think I might have the perfect drink right here." The three of them watched as the bar-owner began to mix together a series of ingredients, including raspberries, tequila and lime juice. Once mixed, Coran poured the mixture into a glass tumbler which he'd rolled in something that looked like black salt, rather than the normal white variety. "One Black Heart for the gentleman, no offense intended." He handed the glass over to Keith, who took an experimental sip.

It was nice, really nice. "Wow."

"That was the reaction I was hoping for." The ginger-haired man smiled proudly. "It's a Margarita that uses black lava salt."

Allura looked impressed and intrigued by the drink. "Two more please." She requested, and Shiro raised an amused eyebrow at her. "I'm curious to see how the black salt affects the taste."

"You've sold me." Shiro chuckled, and the three of them watched as Coran mixed up the duplicates of Keith's drink.

"Welcome to Coran's!" Lance swept his arm dramatically as he held the door open for Shay and the others. She cast her eyes around in keen curiosity as she took in the sights of the bar. Lance grinned when her cautious look melted away as the edges of her mouth lifted into a smile.

"It's pretty great, isn't it?" Hunk interjected. "There's lots of unique and colorful drinks, normal and alcohol-free. There's candy, some games outside… Oh! And we have to introduce you to Coran."

"If you're sure." Although her voice sounded hesitant, her smile hadn't slipped away.

"He's like this really likeable uncle, I think I've only ever seen him get angry at one person since we started coming here." Pidge remarked.

"And Shay doesn't need to hear about that." Lance cut in. The group made their way towards the bar and found a gap amongst the costumed patrons.

A man with a strong resemblance to Pidge, and dressed as a Star Trek: The Next Generation Bridge officer greeted the group with a glowing smile.

"Hey guys, 'Pidgeon', I knew I'd be seeing you at some point tonight."

"Matteo." Hunk greeted fondly.

"Matt, my man." Lance grinned, shooting the bartender a finger gun and a wink.

"Is Coran about?" Pidge asked, perching themself against the bar.

"Sure, give me a sec." Matt nodded, and disappeared toward the far end of the counter.

"You were correct, there is quite the resemblance." Shay smiled at Hunk as they waited.

"They used to pretend to be each other when they were younger, for Halloween twenty-twelve they went as the Weasley Twins."

"Did I hear mention of my fellow Gryffindors?" A New Zealander accent called out and Coran appeared as if by magic.

"Coran!" Hunk beamed at the older man.

"Hunk! Pidge! Lance my boy! It's always a pleasure to have you here."

"Don't say that Coran, it'll go to Lance's ego." Pidge stated matter-of-factly, earning a stuck out tongue from the werewolf.

"I'll risk that danger if it helps me retain my loyal clientele." Coran smiled as he popped the collar of his vampire cape. "And I see you've brought a friend."

"Shay this is Coran, Coran, this is Shay."

"Ah!" The proprietor responded, a flash of recognition darting across his eyes. "Your reputation precedes you, Miss." He held out a hand.

"As does yours." She replied and accepted his hand with a shake.

"I'm sure everything you've heard has been exaggerated." He popped the collar of his cape again.

"Or not exaggerated enough." Lance smirked as he leant against the counter.

"However one thing you may have been told that wasn't an exaggeration was our 'First Visit/First Welcome' rule."

"'First visit/first welcome'?" Shay asked curiously.

"Every patron is given their first drink on the house." Coran explained happily.

Shay returned the explanation with a raised eyebrow. "Wouldn't that rule be subject to abuse? What would stop someone from claiming that it was their first time when it wasn't?"

"Coran has a thing for faces, he can remember everyone he's served, and the staff always check with him whenever the rule's called into play." Hunk elaborated.

"So it's lady's choice to start with. What would you like?"

"I'm not sure… What would you suggest?" She directed the question at her date, who gave it some thought.

"Would you like something Halloween themed, or normal?"

Shay's eyes appeared to dance with possibilities for a moment. "Something themed, but with the taste of mint?" She answered, both for Hunk and Coran's questions.

"Alcoholic or non?"

"I would like something alcoholic, please."

Coran's eyes lit up in inspiration. "Now that is a challenge… I think a Chartreuse Smash should do the trick." He nodded with an energetic smile. "Excellent choice." Coran began to select bottles from the back bar, pausing momentarily to draw Matt's attention. "Would you be able to take Lance, Hunk and Pidge's orders, Master Holt?"

"Can do Coran." Matt nodded, and returned to serve the group.

"A Spooky Sunrise." Lance requested.

"One Zombie Apocalypse, please."

"A Sugar Snake, if you've still got them." Pidge asked.

Matt playfully winced. "You'll have me making cocktails all night. Spooky Sunrise, Zombie Apocalypse and a Sugar Snake." He ticked off. "Can I see some ID?" He directed towards his sibling.

"Are you going to do this every time?" They glared at their brother.

"I'll stop when you look like you're old enough to drink." He chuckled.

"You're lucky you're good at making drinks and I'm too lazy to find another bar as awesome as this."

Lance let his attention wander from Pidge and Matt's verbal sparring, it was entertaining, definitely, but it wasn't something he hadn't seen before. He cast his eyes across the crowd of disguised drinkers, taking note of a few individuals who his eyes lingered on. There was a girl dressed like Princess Fiona from Shrek (the non-Ogre version), a blond guy dressed as Jace from The Mortal Instruments, complete with sharpie runes, a girl dressed as one of the female Ghostbusters, and a guy who was making a pretty decent effort of a crossplay of Storm from X-Men.

Lance wasn't shy about one of the several reasons why he loved Halloween: it gave him the opportunity to hit on girls and guys who were dressed in some pretty creative and elaborate costumes, and to get even more playful with his flirting, tailoring it to reflect each character he encountered.

Pidge gave him a nudge with their elbow as they waited for their drink to be made. "Try to leave some people for the rest of us, wolf boy."

Lance favoured her with a grin. "I make no promises."

They'd found an unoccupied table in the courtyard, the bar's outside seating area. The choice suited Keith fine as it had felt a bit stuffy inside the building.
Although he was more at-ease now, there was a part of him that reminded him of the fact he was currently a bit of a third wheel… even though he had been invited/dragged out by Shiro.
He knew that Shiro and Allura wanted to be a bit more romantic, but were maintaining a bit of distance in order to keep him involved in the conversation… And he felt a little guilty at the fact that they weren't able to enjoy themselves as much as they wanted.
In hindsight he wished he'd thought to call some friends, see if they fancied joining him… Though the number of people he regarded as friends who weren't on the long-end of a Xbox gaming connection were slimmer than he'd like.

He looked down at his drink, noting that his Black Heart was practically drained. He looked towards Shiro and Allura's drinks, which were still half-full.

"I'm going to grab another drink, do you guys want anything? It's my round."

"Coors for me." Shiro answered, with a thankful nod.

"A Gin and Tonic, please." Allura requested. Nodding whilst making a mental note of their order, Keith slid his chair backward and made his way towards the bar.

"…Can you hear how the children weep?
Chills of fear like a saw blade cutting deep
Once again there is pain
I bring flames, I bring cold
I'm the Blood Red Sandman coming home…"

The interior was now even busier, and he drummed his fingers against the hem of his hoodie in time with the song's beat as he waited.

Matt turned his attention towards Keith, and he got down to business.

"Could I get a bottle of Coors, a Gin and Tonic, and a Desperados, please?"

"Sure thing, Keith." Matt nodded, and he went to work to prepare the other man's order. He leant against the bar and looked around at the costumes surrounding him, studying their craftsmanship as he waited for Matt to finish his order.

"A man who drinks Tequila is a man worth getting to know better." A voice spoke to Keith's left. In turning his head towards the voice, he was greeted with a tan-skinned male werewolf. A flash of light from the guy's neckline revealed a dog collar with metal nametag.

"It's not neat Tequila… But I like it."

"We all have our preferences." The werewolf shrugged, he then sidled closer to Keith, his arm gently bumping Keith's. "What's yours?"

Wow. Keith mused to himself. We're confident aren't we? "Uh, beers that aren't gassy." he responded, feigning ignorance.

The werewolf offered him a brief flat look, before he tried a different tactic:

"So what kinda goodies do you have for grandma?"

Keith gave him a blank look in return. "Grandma?"

"Grandma. You know? Little Red Riding Hood." The tanned guy offered. "Uh, Red Riding Hoodie in your case."

"Oh." Keith suddenly realised. "No, sorry. This isn't Little Red Riding Hood, it's 'R'… From the movie Warm Bodies?"

The werewolf blinked in recognition. "Oh, yeah, pretty good film."

"Yeah." Keith nodded, the conversation falling into cardiac arrest.

"Here're your drinks Keith." Matt responded, gaining Keith's attention and gratitude.

"Thanks." Keith gave a half-smile towards Matt, who responded with a nod. He quickly paid, and turned toward the werewolf to offer them a more self-conscious nod. "Uh, it was nice meeting you. Happy Halloween."

"But I didn't even tell you my name!" The werewolf protested as Keith walked away.

"But I didn't even tell you my name!" Lance protested as the guy dressed as a zombie walked away. He glanced up at Matt in frustration who offered a sympathetic shrug.

"Sorry."

"Do you know anything about him?" Lance asked as he took the spot at the bar the zombie had vacated.

"I do, and it would be unprofessional for me to divulge anything about a customer."

"Come on man! I'm not going to roofie him or anything, you know me!"

Matt chuckled. "I do know you Lance, that's why I'm sparing him from your advances."

Lance shot a pout at Matt, watching as he turned away to serve another customer.

"That was like watching a skydiver make a landing without a parachute." Pidge offered, smirking over the rim of their Sugar Snake.

"I've had worse, and been successful." He sniffed. "He just needs to see some of the McClain charm."

"I think he already got a face full of it."

"Just you watch." Lance rebuffed, he downed the rest of his Spooky Sunrise and headed in the direction the guy dressed as a zombie had disappeared. The cooler night air hit him like a balm as he stepped outside, the atmosphere becoming less thick and the music from the speakers quieter as he eased into the converted courtyard.

He cast his gaze over the area, keeping his eyes peeled for a red hoodie. It didn't take long to spot it seated with a guy in a Green Lantern costume, who Lance would freely admit was hot… But also out of his league. In fact Green Lantern could possibly bench press Lance without breaking a sweat.
Sat opposite Green Lantern was a woman in a Batwoman costume who he would try his luck with, were it not for the fact she was clearly there with the other superhero.

His plan to approach the hoodie-wearing zombie took a severe detour when a voice he recognised called out to him: "Hello Romeo."

Lance's world ground to a halt, a shiver running its way up the length of his spine. Oh fuck my life…

He put on a smile, but knew it didn't reach his eyes. "Hey Nyma."

Nyma Chabert, 5' 8", natural blonde, dressed as Black Cat, and the most twisted bitch he'd ever had the displeasure of crossing paths with.

"You're looking well."

"I try, you're not so bad yourself." It was proving a trial to keep the ice from seeping into his words, or to not bare his teeth in anger. "I didn't think I'd ever see you here again."

"I'm moving out of state later in the year, so I figured I'd come here one last time. Coran's Halloween parties are legendary."

"Where you moving to? New York? Europe? …Siberia?" Lance asked, losing the battle to remain civil.

"Florida, my boyfriend Rolo's getting back in touch with his family…And you know I've always wanted to check out the Sunshine State."

"I kinda remember."

As if sensing the icy air between them, a man with long bleached hair tied up in a ponytail, dressed as Daryl Dixon from The Walking Dead stepped up to Nyma with a drink in each hand.

"Nyma." he greeted with a bit of a hesitant edge.

"Rolo." Nyma flashed him a smile as she accepted the drink he offered. "I'd like you to meet Lance, we were… Close, a few years back."

"That so? Nice to meet you." Rolo held a hand out, and after a moment Lance shook it. The guy seemed nice enough upon first meeting, but as Lance knew, first impressions could be deceiving.

"You too." Lance returned.

"So are you here with someone, or playing the crowd like when I met you?" Nyma asked. Rolo was beginning to look a bit uncomfortable now.

"What's it to you?"

Nyma shrugged nonchalantly. "Maybe give them a heads up, give them insight into the 'McClain method'."

Lance's blood had gone from chilled to bubbling. "You're one to talk."

"Guys, while I'm sure there's a lot of unresolved stuff between you two… Obviously… Maybe we should just call it a night?" Rolo interrupted.

"No, let him speak. I'm sure he has plenty to say."

"You seem like a nice guy Rolo, so I'll do you a solid. I dated Nyma for three months and while it started out fine, by the end of things she stole my car and abandoned it on the far side of Seattle."

Nyma was laughing now, but it was devoid of mirth. "You'd say anything to cover up the fact you were lousy in bed."

"Babe-" Rolo began to interject.

"I had to pay over three hundred dollars in fines to get my car back after you left it Ravenna Park!" Lance hissed.

She was outright glaring now. "You were always an asshole."

"Excuse me?" The three of them turned to see Coran standing smartly beside them. "I'm sorry about the interruption, but there had been a few… Concerns… Raised about the volume and exuberance of the conversation you're having. You're welcome to stay here if things remain civil… But if you wish to inject more emotion into what you're talking about… I'm afraid I would have to ask you to continue it outside."

Nyma unleashed a withering look at the bar owner as she retorted petulantly: "We were leaving anyway." She shot a final glare at Lance. "C'mon Rolo, this place isn't as good as I remembered it." Without another word, she stalked out of the courtyard towards the exit.

Rolo appeared briefly stunned, before he gave an amiable clap to the werewolf's shoulder. "Sorry about that… And, uh, thanks for the warning." Coran and Lance watched as the other young man disappeared in pursuit of hurricane Nyma.

Coran let a handful of seconds pass to allow Lance to calm down, before he spoke to him in hushed tones: "I know it's a bit of a silly question Lance, but are you okay? If you'd like some private time to sort things out, you'd be more than welcome to borrow my office." The moustachioed man's face broadcasted his concern.

"Thanks Coran… But I'll be fine… I just need a minute to get my shit together."

"The offer's there should you want it." Coran nodded, and he turned to head back inside.

Doing his best to ignore the few patrons who were still watching, Lance turned to go back indoors. It didn't take him long at all to find Hunk, Shay or Pidge, who were stood by the doors leading out into the courtyard. Pidge lightly elbowed Hunk, and he stepped forward and wrapped Lance in one of his patented bear hugs.

"You don't have to say anything. We're here for you, buddy."

The brown-haired man chuckled despite what had occurred only a few minutes ago. "I'm fine, man, I am. I just need to get a bit of air and I'll be good as new."

"You sure?"

Lance returned Hunk's question with one of his smirks. "Definitely. Thanks for the hug, though."

Hunk released him with some reluctance. "Alright, but we're gonna help you get that smirk back to its usual million watts, that right, Pidge?"

She shon a challenging smile. "All I need is an outlet and some extension cord."

"…Aaaaand now you've just gone into creepy." He started to shift towards the bar, but he hesitated by Shay. "Sorry you had to see that." He remarked, rubbing the back of his head. "I hope it hasn't ruined your night out."

"I hope what happened before hasn't spoiled yours." Shay returned. "You have nothing to apologise for Lance, I'm sure you weren't responsible for your exchange becoming heated, and it means a lot to me that you feel the need to apologise… When you have no reason to."

He shrugged awkwardly. "Still…"

"If you feel the need to give some form of apology, I believe you could always get Hunk and Pidge their next drink."

He gave her a fond smile. "And yours."

"Only if you insist." She winked.

He glanced back at them. "I'll be back with you guys in a bit."

He was lucky to call Hunk, Pidge, Shay and Coran his friends, and boy did he know it. He made his way back into the bar, mindful of how appropriate the music was given who'd just walked back into, and quickly out of his life:

"…I'm a bitch, I'm a mother
I'm a child, I'm a lover
I'm a sinner, I'm a saint
I do not feel ashamed
I'm your Hell, I'm your dream
I'm nothing in between
You know you wouldn't want it any other way…"

The air had gotten awkward about half-way through the conversation between the guy in the werewolf costume, and the woman dressed as Black Cat, about the time their voices had started getting louder, and the civility had dropped away altogether.

Shiro and Allura looked on uncomfortably, conversation was beginning to return to the courtyard, but the atmosphere was on life support, if not completely dead.

"Poor guy." Shiro muttered, and Allura nodded sadly. Keith swirled the contents of his bottle around, watching as the wedge of lime floated aimlessly in his drink. He'd probably been draining it quicker than normal due to it being something for him to do other than dip in and out of the conversation between the two people sat with him. Knowing he wanted another drink, he finished the dregs in his bottle and rose to his feet.

"So um…" Keith idly scratched at his chin for a moment, unconsciously smudging some of his zombie makeup. "I'm gonna get a drink, you guys want a refill?"

Shiro studied his glass. "I'm good, thanks."

"None for me at the moment." Allura smiled.

Taking that as his cue, Keith slid away from the table and made his way towards the courtyard doors. A flash of light on the ground caught his eye, and he knelt down to see what had caught his attention. Lying on the brick paving was a silver disk, a disk he recognised because he'd seen it hanging from the collar the werewolf had been wearing (where it had also flashed a flare of light into his eye for a moment). He scooped the disk up, and fingered the inadequate loop of metal it hung from, before he turned it over. The name 'LANCE' was engraved on the disk.

Still feeling sorry for the guy, Keith pocketed the disk and headed inside to look for him.

"…When it all falls, when it all falls down
I'll be your fire when the lights go out
When there's no one, no one else around
We'll be two souls in a ghosttown

When the world gets cold
I'll be your cover
Let's just hold
Onto each other…"

Things were much livelier back inside, and there were even people shifting on the dance floor adjacent to the patio-style doors. Despite scanning his midnight eyes across the crowd of revellers, Keith couldn't make out a werewolf anywhere inside the main bar area.

Frowning in contemplation, he looked across the room to the doors to the restrooms. He didn't see the werewolf going in or out of them, but that was the next likely place he could possibly be… Short of the guy having left the bar entirely, which was possible.

The search of the men's restroom had proven fruitless; the only thing that'd caught his attention was a Hufflepuff making out with a Ravenclaw. Keith let out a frustrated puff of air as he hovered in the alcove that housed the doors to the restrooms. He was about to brave the bustle of the bar area and search it foot-by-foot when his eyes settled on the door to disabled restroom.

Keith knocked against the door and waited. After a moment of silence he knocked again.

"It's occupied!" an irritated voice responded from behind.

"Dude, I literally can't use the normal bathroom because of my chair." Keith cringed, he wasn't the greatest liar and he really hoped his hunch was right.

The bolt clacked as the door was unlocked, and it swung open to reveal the werewolf… Lance. "Sorry…" The rest of what he'd planned to say died in his mouth as he saw Keith, standing without aid. The embarrassment on his face morphed into a scowl. "Not cool, man."

Keith levelled Lance with an unimpressed look. "You were taking it up when you didn't need it, that's also uncool."

The scowl on Lance's face deepened. "Fine. What do you want?"

Nonplussed, Keith raised the mislaid nametag. "You lost this."

The werewolf's expression shifted to surprise. He tugged the disk from where it dangled between Keith's fingers and studied it. "Stupid loop, it must've fallen off when Hunk hugged me." He made an effort to reattach it, but it didn't seem to want to stick. "Thanks." he added, though he didn't really look at Keith, nor sound like he was all that grateful.

"Thanks." Lance responded, though he didn't look the zombie in the eye, nor did he really sound all that grateful. To be honest he didn't really care about the nametag at this point.

He got the feeling the zombie was glaring at him, and he finally looked up. It was a bit painful seeing the annoyed look on the face that only a little whole ago he'd thought was attractive. Figures, the evening would have to go from bad to worse.

Still, he could at least try a little harder to be thankful. He let out a sigh and pushed the door open further, before he stepped back into the restroom. Although the guy in the zombie costume seemed hesitant to enter, he slipped in after Lance anyway. He pushed the door shut, and in the privacy of the confined space away from prying watchers, Lance forced himself to look the other guy in the eye. "Thanks for bringing it back, and sorry for being a dick when you were just trying to help me."

The hardness in the other guy's expression relaxed a little. "I didn't hear everything and I wasn't trying to listen in… But you seemed to have every right to be pissed off."

Lance let out a bitter laugh. "The only way you couldn't have heard it was if you were deaf, lived in Alaska, or had… Like… Noise-cancelling headphones." After a beat he added: "Sorry for killing the party mood out there."

"It's okay." The zombie shrugged. "Do you want to talk about it?"

Lance offered him a dim smile. "Not really, though I bet Hunk will probably get me talking some point tomorrow."

"The guy you said hugged you earlier?"

A warmer smile spread across Lance's lips. "Hunk's hugs are, like, literally the best. You look in the dictionary for 'BFF' and there'd be a photo of him. He can just sit there, not say anything, no judgement, and sooner or later you just open up to him… He's helped more times than I can count." Lance noted sadly.

"Do you want me to go get him?"

The brown-haired man shook his head. "I'll find him when I'm ready."

The raven-haired man nodded, though he stood there a little uncertain of what to say next. "She seemed like a bit of a bitch."

Lance nodded his agreement, a rueful smile curling his lips. "She was." His tone was bitter from the memory. "She was loads of fun at first… But then she just started showing more and more ugly sides to her personality. A little while before she stole my car I actually wondered if the girl I'd first met was just an act."

The zombie bobbed his head in understanding. "Was your car okay, once you got it back?"

"The car was fine; it was my wallet that was violated."

Despite himself and the circumstances, the dark-eyed man let out an unexpected laugh. The absurdity of it was infectious, and Lance heard himself bark a laugh, and then another.

For a while, the blue-eyed man told ridiculous anecdotes about his disastrous relationship with Nyma, and by the time he trailed off, he didn't feel so bad anymore.

The zombie glanced around, as if suddenly recalling that they'd both shifted into the restroom. "We should get outta here; there'll probably be someone in a wheelchair wanting to use this place at some point tonight."

"That or someone's going to think we're giving each other hickies in here." Lance chuckled as he stretched his stiffened limbs. He gave himself a glance in the mirror to make sure his costume still looked okay. "Shit, the stupid thing's fallen off again." He groaned when he noticed that the nametag had fallen off of the collar again. Before he'd had a chance to even start looking for it, the black-haired man was stood in front of him, and was reattaching it to his dog collar. With the ring fed through the metal loop on the collar, the zombie pinched the ring, squashing it a little.

"It should stay in place now."

Lance was a little stunned by the sudden closeness of the other man, and by the simple act of him fixing the nametag. "Thanks, man."

"No problem." the dark-eyed guy responded, and then added: "What makes you think I'm the hickey-giving type?"

Lance fired off a daring smirk. "Duh, you're a zombie! Biting's in your nature."

Something about the sudden ruffled look that came over the man stood in front of him made Lance feel that maybe, just maybe, the evening had been saved from the flames.

There was also something about the zombie's reaction that reignited Lance's interest in getting to know him better.

"…'Cause this is thriller, thriller night!
And no one's gonna save you from the beast about to strike
You know it's thriller, thriller night!
You're fighting for your life inside a killer, thriller tonight…"

The two of them slid out of disabled bathroom, not drawing a single look from anyone nearby. Most of the drinkers nearby were watching a semi-synchronised performance of the Thriller dance routine.

They watched the dancing briefly, before Keith nudged the man stood beside him. "Keith." He elaborated, offering a hand clad in a fingerless leather glove.

"Lance." The werewolf returned. His smile broadened, and looked daringly at Keith. "You dance?"

The blacked-haired zombie shrugged. "Sometimes, it depends on the event."

Lance bobbed his head in the direction of the dance floor. "C'mon, I'll show you how to dance like a Michael Jackson zombie.