John Casey had just finished updating files of data on several rogue fulcrum agents and decided to take a break. Thankfully, unlike last year, none of the children in his apartment complex had yet to ring his bell for treats. Last year, he'd been ill-prepared for trick-or-treaters, as due to the annual courtyard party, he didn't think any of the children would actually ring his bell for treats. He was wrong. He'd gotten three trick-or-treaters who had managed to catch him by surprise. He'd contemplated giving them shells for his three-fifty-seven magnum, that was in plain view, sitting on his coffee table, but decided against that. So, he gave each of them the next best thing, three over-ripened bananas. He still remembered the puzzled expression the little girl, dressed as a princess had given him. But, apparently, he'd passed muster as she and the two super hero's with her, who appeared to be Batman and Superman, happily said thank-you and skipped away.

Casey had been surprised by a seven year old and that was unacceptable! He was always prepared. He always did the reconnaissance, he always knew what to expect and always had a plan, or at least a contingency plan. This year, he was prepared. He would not be caught off guard again.

He almost didn't realize that it was Halloween, until he walked into the Buy More that morning. Either all of the employees were holding a daytime rave party on company time and were under the influence of narcotics, alcohol or other intoxicants, or, it was Halloween. Big Mike had initially chided him for not wearing a costume, and had hurriedly stalked into his office and came back momentarily with a button that he pinned on Casey's work shirt. It simply stated "This is my costume," and, Casey found that he liked it. It effectively shut everyone up who approached him to ask why he wasn't wearing a costume. As if that would ever happen.

As he drove home from work that afternoon, he stopped at the grocery store to pick up a steak, a six-pack and some milk. The twenty-something checker with blue hair, who always flirted with him when he was in her line, smiled broadly at him. "Aw, that's so cute!"

The bag-girl standing at the end of the check-stand, who looked like she was a possible gang member, with her tight pony-tail, heavily made-up, but pretty face and her huge gold hoop earrings smiled brightly at him as well. Casey stifled a low growl as her fingers brushed against something on his chest and looked down to where her eyes were focused and realized he'd left the damn Halloween button on.

"Yeah, I'm all about cute," he semi-grunted to the two fawning women. Blue-hair giggled again and batted her eyelashes at him. "Is there anything else you need?" she demured as she continued, "Do you need any treats for the kiddies?"

He looked at the girl in front of him with her glaring blue hair, pierced nose and tattoos who was now flirtaciously smiling at him, awaiting an answer.

Though irritated, he realized he did need candy so he calmly replied, "Yes, thank you for reminding me, I'll take two bags."

The checker grabbed two bags from the display behind her and finished ringing up his purchases.

"Do you want paper or plastic, Big Poppy?"

And, now it was the bag-girls turn to flirt with him. He, the hardened NSA Agent/Killer was now, affectionately being referred to as "Big Poppy," by a complete stranger.

"Paper," is all he got out as she, in turn, smiled provacatively at him. "Do you want some help out to your car?"

"No, thank you, I'm fine. Have a nice evening ladies," he somewhat defeatedly added.

"Bye!" they both replied as he left the store. Casey didn't get it. Why did people want to chat him up all the time. Was he not intimidating, had he not heard himself referred to, countless times as a "Bad-Ass." He'd been around the world, seen and done serious, unspeakable things and only here, in L.A., did everyone want to chat him up? It didn't matter if it was two twenty-something girls, a cougar housewife, college co-eds, gay men, Grandmothers or nerds like Morgan and Chuck, it seemed like his intimidating mannerisms didn't get through to anyone in this town. And, what was it with the women here? They were so chatty and flirty.

Now, finally done with the demeaning end of his job, he was about to settle in on the couch and eat his grilled steak and have a beer or two. He grunted his annoyance as he heard the beginnings of loud thumping music emanating from the courtyard, but knew it would all be over in a few hours. He dared not open his door to see who was in attendance, as he'd undoubtedly be dragged out by Chuck or Morgan if they saw him.

As he ate his food, he admitted to himself that he was curious about one party-goer in particular. He had the urge to see what type of costume Ellie would wear this year. Last year she was a knock-out, dressed, or un-dressed as the case was, as Eve with that dolt of a boyfriend, dressed as Adam. Chuck mentioned that it was Devon who had the "awesome" idea of dressing them as Adam and Eve. While appreciating her curvaceous figure, Casey wondered why any man in his right mind, would come up with that kind of revealing get-up that put his woman on display for all to see. But, Devon was an idiot. A nice idiot, a talented idiot, but still, an idiot. If it had been he who was with Ellie, they'd have never made it out to the party with her dressed like that. He'd have had her panting and moaning and writhing under him as he showed her what original sin was really all about.

Rather than chance a peek our the window blinds, he sat down in front of his computer and checked the perimeter security cameras to see if he could spot her. There were several women in scanty costumes, but none held his interest. He checked several more camera feeds, but didn't see her. He'd check later, but now, he had an appointment with his recliner chair, a steak and a DVD of "Young Frankenstein."

Just as Casey was digging into his steak someone knocked on his door. He quickly glanced at his computer to see who was on the security camera and noted it was some kid with a bag over their head. He smirked at the lack of creativity of the costume but got up anyways, as he was prepared and ready for trick-or-treaters, no matter how crappy their costumes were. He still had the ability to lock down his apartment if there was a security breach and was protected by the many security features he'd installed as one could never be too safe in his business, so he grabbed the bag of candy and opened the door.

--

Ellie took a deep breath as she heard John open his door and yanked her coat open. "Trick or Treat," she squeaked in a tinny, high voice. She watched his face as his eye's momentarily went wide and his jaw dropped open then just as quickly closed and his face became expressionless but then changed again to what appeared to be a very small, almost imperceptible smile. They stood brown-bag to face for a few brief seconds before John, never taking his eyes off of her, reached into a bag of candy and held a handful out to her.

Ellie, her confidence wavering, was beginning to feel the need to either throw herself on him or flee. He was speaking now and her brain focused back on decoding words.

"Where is your treat bag?" he asked in a calm tone with the beginnings of a smirk showing on his face.

"What?" she squeaked.

"Here is your treat, where should I put it?" he smiled, now starting to relax and notice the gorgeous body before him that apparently wasn't going to try and kill him.

Was he flirting with her? Ellie just held out her hands as he dropped the treats into them. She felt shocks and tingles as their hands briefly met.

"Who are you?" he asked, with a genuine look of puzzlement on his face.

Completely freaked out now, Ellie tossed the candy back at him, closed and tied her coat shut then turned on her heel and fled. As she rounded the corner, her foot caught and she broke off the heel on the pumps. Not letting it slow her down, she scurried off to the car as her friends fled with her.

"Wait!" he called out, "Who are you?" But he doubted anyone had heard him due to the loud music playing. 'What the hell!' John thought. He was about to close the door but on a whim decided to pursue his fleeing, and very feminine flasher. Who was the woman and why had she flashed him? He grabbed his keys and ran out the door, looking for signs of Chuck or Sarah. 'God, would Sarah flash him...ew, he hoped not. Just the thought of that made him very uncomfortable and he knew, instinctively that she would never do that, even on a dare. Plus, she wasn't as curvy as his flasher was. While not being alarmed, he was curious as to what was going on. As he hurried out onto the street, he saw two, no, four people in trench coats and heels and bags over their heads piling into a minivan laughing and giggling as the van pulled away and headed off into the night. Now, he knew something was up. Who were these mad women and what did they want from him? He just stood there for a moment, in stunned silence, and nearly decked someone when they touched his shoulder.

"Hey, buddy, you look like you saw a ghost. What gives?"

Chuck was standing behind him in his nerd herd uniform.

"Did you see that van Bartowski? the one that just peeled out of here?"

"No, I was parking and not really paying attention. Why is there a problem? Are you okay? Did somethin-"

Casey just growled and walked away. Chuck took it as his sign to leave and shrugged his shoulders and went to join the fun at the party. He and Morgan had a costume to get into. They were going to be "Mr. Ed," this year. But, it was Morgans' turn to be the ass. He cheerfully whistled the tune from the old show as he walked.

--

"Oh. My. God. that was priceless! I got it all on my cell. His jaw dropped Ellie! it actually dropped."

"Yeah? but did it drop in a good way, or in a "some weirdo is flashing me kind of way"?

"Oh, it was definitely in a good way."

Her heart, which had been pounding, was now slowing down and she got a small smile on her face. "He asked me where my treat bag was. What a dunce, I didn't even think about that."

"Yeah, it was funny when you threw the candy back at him. He just looked so stunned. I haven't seen anything that funny in a long time."

"So, what'd you think? he's cute isn't he?" Ellie asked as the van pulled into the driveway and they got out.

"Oh, Ell Honey, he's a doll."

"I can't believe I did that! no more wine for me ever again!" she laughed.

"Oh a little excitement is good for your Ellie. Plus, now you know, he liked what he saw."

"As if he wouldn't," Corrine replied

Ellie's grin got even bigger as she hobbled into the house. Normally she'd be upset at breaking the heel on her favorite pair of Louboutins, but this had been worth it.

--

As John walked back to his apartment, he studied the walkway carefully for clues. She'd taken this path as she fled his apartment earlier and sure enough, he bent to pick up a three inch black and red heel that must have broken off of her shoe as she rounded the corner. He tucked it in his pocket and headed into his apartment and immediately went to his computer to check the digital camera feeds. He could see the minivan on the street, but the angle in which it was parked caused a reflection, so the camera wasn't able to pick up a clear license plate number. He looked at the feeds from the courtyard and was able to pick out the other three women, dressed in the same get up as they mingled with the other guests. He knew he could always run the make, model and color of the minivan, but every soccer mom in L.A. drove one, so he'd have to check out ten-thousand of them. He sighed and pulled up the last camera feed that monitored the breezeway by the mailboxes. He sighed as he saw her running to the waiting van. He knew this was not a security breach as when did voluptuous, hot fulcrum agents place bags over their heads and flash their opponents?

"So, Cinderella, who are you?" he asked as he set the heel on his desk. He didn't know much about womens shoes, but the red and black heel was very distinctive. He quickly pulled up an image on the computer and noted it was a Christian Louboutin shoe.

--(TBC)