That Old Black Magic
Notes: Written for fanfic100 at LiveJournal. Prompt #64, Fall.
She isn't sure if this is a good idea.
Not the trick-or-treating part itself - even if her nephew might still be too young to really enjoy such a thing, Alex was secretly thrilled when her sister called. Though it's something she'd refused to admit even to herself until the invitation came, the last couple of weeks have been difficult. Decorations and candy and planned festivities everywhere she turns, and that corner boutique on her way home with windows filled with all of those miniaturized costumes. She realizes now that she's spent more time trying not to picture the kid in those tiny outfits than she has on their current case.
She still refuses to let herself decide which one she'd buy were it up to her.
No, she wants to go out tonight. There's a crisp fall bite to the air that's coming in through the open gap of her car window, a buzz that marks today as something special. It's been a while since she's noticed this, since she's tasted this familiar tang. It's been years since Halloween has been anything other than just another workday or weekend night. She's missed it, she realizes, and this surprises her.
So the trick-or-treating is a good thing. It's her self-appointed first stop that's got her so uncertain. Alex stops for a red light, watching as a group of young superheroes and anime characters cross carefully through the crosswalk. Half-way across Spiderman stumbles, but the man holding his hand is able to pull him up before he hits the pavement. Without losing a single piece of candy in the process. She remembers walking hand-in-hand with her dad, how he was always too slow, despite all her attempts to drag him on to the next house before another group of kids got there. How he'd sometimes disappear when her back was turned to hide himself behind some bushes at the end of a neighbor's walk, and how she'd always yelp when he jumped out, even though she'd known he'd be there. How he'd let her wear his badge that year she was eight, the year she dressed up like a cop.
How she'd been more excited about showing it off to all the other kids than about trying to beat them to the candy. She'd tried to get him to let her wear it to school the next day, too.
Alex glances over at the pile of red fabric in the seat next to her and wonders if maybe she should call first. But she's already on her way over there, already close enough to start thinking about parking. Her brain reminds her that just because he'd said he has no plans doesn't necessarily mean he's looking for some, but she pushes the thought away. When she'd hit the costume shop on her way home, she hadn't been able to resist. And it'll do him good. Do them both good.
He hasn't really been himself lately.
She slows down when she turns off onto a side street, her eyes alert for open spaces and stray children. It won't be dark yet for another hour, but a lot of the younger ones are out already. Her sister and the group they're traveling with have plans to head out by six. She purposely didn't leave him much time to decide.
She finds a space a block away from her destination. She turns off the car and checks her reflection, pausing just long enough to tip the last of an almost-empty mini bag of M&Ms into her mouth. One gets away, bouncing off her leg and losing itself somewhere in the shadows of the floormat. She gropes around blindly for a few minutes before deciding she'll have to find it later.
She's relieved to find there's no mark left behind by the colorful candy shell. Wearing white may not have been the best idea she's ever had.
She's cold by the time she gets to his building, goosebumps rising up over her bare arms. She revises the image of the kid in her head, instinctively dressing him in something heavier before she can remember to blot out the image entirely. She'll see him soon enough. She's sure whatever her sister has bought is not only adorable, but also appropriately warm.
Alex catches the gate as one of the tenants is leaving, opting out of the security lecture in favor of her own good fortune. The elevator ride is crowded with more hastily-squashed second thoughts (Who am I really doing this for? Him? Or me)but she adjusts her wings and straightens her halo and puts on her brightest smile. And then she rings his doorbell.
His jaw drops - actually drops - when he opens the door and sees her there. The smile on her face fills itself out into something more genuine, and it's all she can do not to take a few steps forward to reach up and close his mouth with her free hand. Instead she gives him a moment, stands there while he runs his eyes from the white boots peeking out from under her fitted white jeans all the way up to the circle of white feathers hovering over her head. The look of utter astonishment on his face is priceless. It isn't often she gets to surprise him.
He closes his mouth. Opens it again. She takes in his own jeans, his black t-shirt, and holds the red cape and matching plastic horns out to him before he can say a word.
"Get your shoes. And a jacket. We're going trick-or-treating, Bobby."
end.