"Uncle Boogey-Man"

By Lawrali

Summary: Jamie Lloyd meets John Tate.

Disclaimer: Unfortunately, I wasn't even born when Halloween came out so that just shows you that I in no way own anything to do with the movie. I love Jamie Lee Curtis and she kicks major ass!

Note: I love all the movies however, in a way, 4 thru 6 sucked because there was no Laurie Strode. Like I said, Jamie Lee kicks ass. I love My Girl and True Lies. She's just awesome. The title really has nothing to do with the story but I just love how Jamie basically calls him that in movie 5.

The rain came down hard and strong. Each drop pelting the ground as if fighting for its life. Empty cars lined the street, waiting for the souls to return. The streetlamps were all busted or burned out except for one straight outside the window on the very corner of the block. Across the street a solid wall, surrounding an old abandoned apartment building, was covered in graffiti, tags and gang signs.

Inside, sitting solitude by the window, was a dark haired, petite, seemingly young woman. In front of her, on the table, sat two empty beer bottles and another in her hands. Laying on her upper thigh, her keys hung off a clip holding a cylinder of mace. Hidden, tied around her ankle, the blade of a dagger cooled her skin through the thin cotton of her socks. Around her neck, laying upon the black material of her shirt, was a amulet of St. Jerome Emiliani.

She turned her gaze out over the people dancing to the heavy beat of the newest Creed song. Somewhere in the center she could make out the profile of her friend, Ashley, surrounded by guys grinding and fondling her. The colored lights danced across the walls and down on the crowd before heading back up to the ceiling. Her gaze continued across the crowd and landed on a boy seated at the bar simply staring in her direction. His chestnut orbs glistened in the colored lights, his gaze burned her skin as she began to look around for anyone who noticed him.

Ashley had begun dancing her way toward her, guys following her every move not wanting to let her go. Ashley fell into the empty seat across the table, picked up the beer and took a swig. The many guys who'd followed her disbursed with groans and complaints.

"Why aren't you dancing?" Ashley asked, picking up her purse and withdrawing a tube of lipstick. Opening it and rolling it up, she applied the red-beige color effortlessly.

Jamie looked back up towards the bar where the man stood but he was no longer there. She began skimming the crowd to find him while she talked with her friend. "You know me, no contact."

"Just because you dance with a guy doesn't mean you touch."

"In your case it does. I've watch you all night with those guys. Can't keep their hands to themselves. I'm not gonna take my chances." Jamie commented, still searching the crowd.

Ashley fluffed up her bangs and ran her finger just under the line of her bottom lip then closed the pocket mirror she had been looking into. "It's not my fault they have good taste."

The two friends smiled at each other and Ashley was off again to find more dance partners, leaving Jamie alone by the window again. Jamie looked down at the bottle in her hands and took a long drink before adding the empty bottle with the others. She turned her gaze back out to the deserted street, trying to determine if anyone was watching her from the shadows of nearby buildings.

"Would you like another beer?"

Jamie jumped at the unexpected voice. Knocking her knee hard on the underside of the table she sat at. The bottles overturned and began to roll off into the floor. Her heart race quickly, pounding inside her chest, and her breath almost stopped.

"Sorry, I didn't mean to startle you."

Jamie looked up at the voice to see the man who'd been watching her from across the room. In his hands were two beer bottles. The one in his right hand was evidently new, a few pieces of crushed ice clung to it and several drops of water covered the outside.

"Mind if I join you?"

Jamie looked across the table to the empty seat and back at the younger man. As he sat, he placed the fresh beer in front of her and smiled. His smile diminished slightly as he looked at her closer. She looked so much like...Nah impossible.

"My name's John."

Jamie looked at his eyes, trying to decide if she should lie or tell the truth. She searched hard but was unable to locate what she had been looking for in them. Something was blocking her from seeing his intentions, his motive, who he really was.

"Jamie."

John looked far into her eyes and saw uncertainty. She was withdrawn and anti-social. He could tell all from her eyes and the simple statement of her name. He had seen the same in his mother's eyes for so many years. They had only brightened, very lightly, when she closed them off from the world at Hillcrest. And then in one moment, after she pushed him and his girlfriend through a door, they turned back to the distant and fearful eyes.

"So, did your boyfriend ditch you tonight?"

John gazed out over the crowd toward the many guys surrounding Ashley. They were all dancing to the crazy beats coming over the speakers above them.

"No, actually. There'd have to be a boyfriend in order for him to ditch me. Wouldn't there?"

John returned his gaze into her dark eyes. There was still something hiding behind her eyes, although he couldn't figure out what it was.

"And what about you? Where's your girlfriend?"

Jamie could have cared less if he actually answered her question. It seemed, however, that he was trying to make conversation and it was only polite to converse back. There was no harm in talking. At least there hadn't been for a few years now.

"Oh, she had study group tonight."

A silence followed that would have unnerved any normal person. But these two were used to it in their own ways. Jamie's gaze had returned to the dancing crowd, trying to find her friend without success. John began swirling his beer around in the bottle. John glanced over at Jamie several times seeing more and more similarities he didn't want to believe.

"So--"

At that moment John had been cut off by the beeping from his wristwatch. Glancing down toward the table top at her own watch Jamie saw that it was nearly half-past midnight.

"I don't wish to be rude but I have to get going." Jamie said, raising from her seat.

"Let me give you a ride home." John commented, digging his keys out of his pocket.

"Oh uh... no thanks. I don't live that far-"

"Come on. You never know what kind of crazies are out on the streets."

Jamie looked up suddenly at his comment and deep into his eyes. She couldn't tell exactly was she saw; fear, anxiety, worry. They all seemed to be embedded into his soul. It was true, his mother had finally killed his uncle. At least they thought it was his uncle. Still, it didn't hurt to be careful. That would be him (and her) for the rest of his life- looking over his shoulder, double checking dark "empty" alleyways or holding his breath until the person following him finally passed by.

Jamie accepted his offer with her slight hesitation. What she saw in his eyes scared her however. What did he have to be afraid of? If only he knew the real horror by the name of Michel Myers. Uncle Boogeyman, she called him. She remembered that night so many years ago when she looked into his eyes, at his face and saw so much of herself.

John walked with Jamie into her building, saying that he'd rather be safe than sorry. She lived in an apartment building which couldn't be entered unless you had a key or was buzzed up by a tenant. She also lived by the "safer than sorry" motto. They climbed the two flights of stairs and walked into Jamie's apartment.

"Well I'm home. Thanks for the escort." Jamie joked, as she stood in the open doorway.

John smiled and noticed something just over her shoulder. A picture frame on the mantel.

"Wh-" John pushed past Jamie and picked up the frame, looking long and hard at the photo. "Why do you have a picture of my mother?"

"Your mother? That's my mother. Her name was L--"

"Laurie Strode."

Jamie looked at him in shock. What did he mean by his mother? Her mother had died when she was nine. She had the newspaper articles that proved it. The doctor, what was his name, he had even stayed with her to protect her against her uncle. She didn't have any brothers.

"I think maybe we have something to talk about..." John continued, looking up at her with the picture still in his hands.

THE END