Urgh. Bloody long chapter. I hope you appreciate it. Actually, I quite like this chapter. It amused me and I got to put in some of the strange costumes I've seen at school. I love Halloween. Mean Girls is one hundred percent right about the costumes of most teenage girls. See if you can find my little not so subtle movie reference and guess what the Fallopian Swimteam is.

Golden Wind: Heh. You'll just have to see who is the stupidest out of the group. Matt is also quite desensitized to killing things now and doesn't think of himself as totally human anymore. The murder is more seen as an inconvenience than anything else.

Bastet1023: You are much smarter than the idiot jocks.

Kitty Felone: I didn't make it Tomas because that would be a bit silly. I mean, Matt didn't do anything to him that would provoke an attempt on his life. And I don't ever want this to turn into a silly, angsty 'I hate you for what you did, why did you do that' crap story. Those make me shudder. ;)

Ron: OK… I will.

Lord Azrael: Hmmm, voodoo… That's a good idea. Never thought of that before. It's been too long since I watched Predator 2.

Thwei-Tjau'ke: Bloodstone.

Awu'asa: Full set of armor.

Nihkou'te: Tooth or tusk.

Guan-Thwei: Nightblood.

Ell-osde'pauk: Fuck you.

S'yuit'de: Shit or low and demeaning term.

Oh, yeah. I almost forgot. (gives souvenir keychain to each reviewer.)

Chapter eight

"Thwei-Tjau'ke, are you coming or not?" demanded an exasperated Matt, apparently speaking to a patch of moonlight and shadows.

"I do not think this is a good idea."

"Just uncloak yourself."

"No. I will be seen." Matt sighed and crossed his arms.

"That's the point! Look at me; I'm out here in my awu'asa!"

"You are an ooman."

"I'm an ooman wearing virtually the same armor as you! What makes you think that they won't make the same connection with you?"

"I have claws. Also, I am much bigger than any ooman." Thwei-Tjau'ke said, a hint of arrogance in his voice.

Matt replied, "Your 'costume' is better than mine. Some oomans can also get as big as you, or taller. I've seen them." Thwei-Tjau'ke was only about seven feet tall; most basketball players and wrestlers were as tall as or taller than him.

"This is not a costume." growled the Yautja, sounding offended.

"Don't be stupid. I know that. But the oomans won't." Thwei-Tjau'ke clicked his mandibles furiously for a moment, but his curiosity overwhelmed his caution.

"Then I will uncloak once I reach your sister's dwelling."

"Oh, yeah. That will go over well." Matt said sarcastically. "You want to scare the oomans? Then do that." Electricity crackled, revealing Thwei-Tjau'ke standing very close to a wall. He slowly limped out of the shadows, leaning on his spear, head twitching and darting at every noise as if he was plagued by a swarm of wasps. Shrill laughter and pounding footsteps echoed up the alley. Two children of indeterminate age came pelting madly up the street, laden pillowcases swinging wildly, pumpkin topped flashlights sending wild streaks of light in every direction.

"Nice costumes!" screamed one, dressed as a pirate.

"Ditto!" shrieked his friend, dressed as the Wolfman. Thwei-Tjau'ke stared after them.

"Told you." said Matt with a smirk.

"Ell-osde'pauk." muttered the Yautja sullenly. Matt laughed at him and started walking. "What is the point of this 'Ha'loh-we'en'?" the crippled Yautja said, carefully enunciating the foreign word, "Is it a ritual like the Feast of Cetanu?"

"It used to be all about the spirits of the dead and demons and other occulty s'yuit-de like that. Now it's about dressing up and getting candy."

"Tell me more about it." Matt brushed and strand of hair out of his eyes as he thought.

"Well, it used to have people playing really elaborate pranks on each other because they didn't get sweets or just for the heck of it."

"Like Nihkou'te does?" cut in Thwei-Tjau'ke.

"Yeah, sort of. Except they usually didn't result in pain and injury." Matt put his head to the side and said, "Mind you, I heard about this one really nasty one where an ooman would push over another ooman's latrine while they were in it, usually on the door so they couldn't get out. They would have to wait to be rescued or crawl out the hole where the ooman waste went." Thwei-Tjau'ke stared at him in disbelief. Matt nodded.

"That is disgusting." he rumbled simply.

"Yep."

"Don't tell Nihkou'te about that."

"Alright. Anyway, now it is about children dressing up and going door to door for candy. Not many oomans play tricks on each other anymore." Except, he noted sourly, when the odd house would get egged or T.P.-ed. The crippled warrior put his head to the side.

"Why are we not doing that? I would like to try this 'can-dee'."

"We are too old for it, silly! Especially you! Instead we are going to a party where there will be much loud music, drinking, eating and oomans in amusing costumes. And yes, Thwei-Tjau'ke, you will get to try your precious candy." They rounded the corner and started up the sidewalk towards the house. More small children flitted from house to house, laughing and giggling while being trailed by their much quieter parents. Loud music pulsed out from the large house at the end of the block. Once the two warriors reached the beginning of the crazy-paved walk, the taller of the two paused. "Your scars bothering you again?" asked Matt with concern.

"No… I do not think this is a good idea."

"Worried they'll sniff you out? Relax and you'll be fine."

"I do not speak your ooman languages." Thwei-Tjau'ke said, fiddling with the decorations on his spear.

"You have a translator so you'll know what they say. Just remember to keep off the thing that translates for you. I will take care of everything. The only ones that will know what you are will be me and Celia. Alright?" assured Matt.

"Alright." Thwei-Tjau'ke murmured uncertainly. "If any oomans start acting strangely, I will leave."

Matt nodded. "So will I. Ready for your first ooman party?" Without waiting for an answer, Matt hopped lightly up the steps and rang the doorbell.

…..

A blast of loud pop music greeted them, as well as beery fumes. Matt wrinkled his nose at the breath of the drunken teenager who opened the door. He was dressed as a caveman. A long tangled wig festooned with small bones sat at a strange angle on his head. Dirt smudged his cheeks and a unibrow was drawn in messily. A plastic bone club was clutched awkwardly in the hand that held the door. In the other was a cup of beer. The teenager peered good-naturedly at them with that particular look of the happily pissed.

"Great coshtumes, man. Who're you?"

"I'm Celia's brother, Matt." "No WAY! That's awshume, man. Party ON!" He stepped out of the way with a wobble. As Thwei-Tjau'ke passed him, the caveman goggled stupidly up at him. "Holy shit, yer tall!" The Yautja ignored the ooman after an imperious glance downwards.

…..

Halloween hadn't changed in the few years since Matt was in high school. The girls all dressed in revealing clothing/lingerie with animal ears or tails or wings. They less popular ones were easily recognizable by that fact that their costumes were much more original and elaborate. The guys were usually dressed as cavemen, criminals, women, athletes, serial killers and comic book/movie characters. One group of guys wore swimming trunks, white bathing caps and what sheets tied like capes. Matt was puzzled until one turned and the words 'FALLOPIAN SWIM TEAM' were revealed written on the back in black Sharpie. He muffled a snort of laughter. Halloween parties were exactly the same. Matt's roving gaze soon picked out Celia's golden brown hair by the refreshment table. She was surrounded by four familiar girls as well as a motley group of others. As he stepped into the living room, he saw that all the furniture, save for a few chairs and the drinks and food table were gone. Smart. That would prevent them from being broken or soiled. Clearly, Lee was not supposed to be having a party, or at least not such a large and boisterous one.

"Hey sis, how are you?"

"I'm great!" she bubbled. "Nice costume." she said before giggling. Matt smiled. It was nice having little private jokes with her again.

"Same to you. What are you, though?" Lee pirouetted, long, dark green skirt flaring out.

"I'm Lady Macbeth." She brandished a plastic dagger and grimaced fiercely. The four friends that he had met before immediately decided that they should tell him what they were too. The rest of the gaggle of girls started in awe that four of their comrades were on speaking terms with him. Erin was dressed in a heavy black leather boots, a black vinyl skirt, a plum leather bustier, long fishnet gloves and lots and lots of white make up and black eyeliner.

She said, "Can you guess what I am?"

"Erm…" Matt mumbled, noticing she had dyed her hair all black hazarded, "A… Dominatrix?" She laughed, baring small fangs.

"I'm a vampire!"

"I see…" said Matt, tearing his eyes away from her. Who knew that baring that much skin was legal? Carrie was wearing a short, colorful dress, the skirt poofed out almost horizontally with many layers of white crinoline. The short sleeves were puffed and edged with lace, like the shirt and the square, plunging neckline of the dress. Carrie's hair was done up in two Princess-Leia-like buns. She proclaimed with far too much pride that she was a Swedish Wench. Monica wore dark blue short shorts, black leather ankle boots, a dark blue t-shirt, similar to the ones police wore but with a deep V-neck and much tighter and a wide leather belt with black fuzzy handcuffs, a bull-whip, a ball-gag and what looked like a blindfold hanging from it. She clutched a riding crop. Oh, yes, and a cop's hat was perched at a jaunty angle on her dark head. Jessica, the friend that Celia was living with, gazed shyly at Matt from under her eyelashes. She was wearing a soft grey body suit with a V-neck and grey stockings. Black high-heeled boots, fuzzy grey cat-ears and a furry tail completed the costume. She said softly to Matt that she was a cat. Adoration shone out of her face. It seemed that since the unpleasant dinner, Jessica had decided that she quite liked Matt. Matt, who had faced down slavering, shining black hordes of Kainde Amedha with only hand-to-hand weapons and his Yautja companions, saw something deep within the eyes of those four girls and a few others that sent a vague feeling of panic jabbing into his belly. He had what only celebrities and some movie/comic book characters had: Scary Fangirls. These girls were starting to idolize him. He didn't like the thought of more empty-headed females hanging off him and babbling at him.

"Who's the hot giant?" asked the ever-talkative Erin. Matt straightened and regained his composure. He stepped slightly to the side and gestured with his right hand.

"This is my good friend T.J." Thwei-Tjau'ke stiffened and began to growl irritably. Matt kicked him and ignored what must have been a truly venomous glare. The girls giggled and Celia covered her mouth, hiding her own amusement.

"T.J.?" Carrie virtually shrieked, "He doesn't look like a T.J. to me! How'd you get that name, honey?" Matt smoothly intercepted the question.

"You wouldn't be able to pronounce his real name. That's just a short version of it. Oh, and he doesn't speak English." Erin, while she looked Thwei-Tjau'ke up and down, seemed to be rather more interested in Matt, so she didn't say anything. A blessing, but only a small one, since her silence would open up the floor to her much thicker subordinates.

"That's alright. I like the silent types. Why is his costume so much more elaborate than yours?" asked Monica.

"He's never had a Halloween before, so his costume is fancier."

"How come he has that mask on? Why can't he just put it on his belt like you? I want to see what he looks like." complained Monica.

"The masks are a pain in the ass to put on and he's shy."

"Awww! That's sooo cute!" Monica moved to put her arm around Thwei-Tjau'ke's, the one that was holding his supporting spear. Matt blocked her swiftly. He didn't know how the alien warrior would react; Guan-Thwei or Nihkou'te could be left to their own devices, but Thwei-Tjau'ke's lesser age and low experience with oomans outside of killing them made Matt a little leery.

Celia instead explained, "You have a boyfriend already. You shouldn't cheat on him. Besides, T.J. doesn't know very much about us. I told you about where Matt has been."

"The lazy bastard hasn't shown up." Matt smirked. "He's always ditching me." Monica pouted. "I'm this close to dumping him." She pinched her thumb and forefinger close together. "Bastard is boring and flirting isn't cheating. If he wasn't doing so well in his sports and was a bad lay, I never would have gone out with him for so long." Matt nearly choked on the punch that he had just ladled for himself, partially because it was spiked and partially from mirth. Monica tapped her crop testily against her leg and frowned, seemingly unconcerned about the details she had revealed about her relationship.

Celia stepped away from her clique with a casual, "Be right back." Matt hurried after, as did the Yautja.

…..

Lee led them into the kitchen, shooing out a necking couple. She leaned against the counter.

"So who is your alien friend really?" Matt glanced around at the door, decided the jabber of the party goers and the jangly pop music was loud enough and spoke.

"His real name is Thwei-Tjau'ke. He's the weapons and electronics expert on the clan ship. Think of him as an uber nerd and weaponsmith combined. He's one of my friends and helped me get started as a warrior." His dark brown eyes held a warning to his sister.

"Pleased to meet you, Thwei-Tjau'ke." She curtsied deeply, an odd mixture of theatricality and politeness. Matt was pleased that she had read his silent warning correctly. "What happened to his leg, if he doesn't mind me asking?" Matt looked at the warrior, who bobbed his masked head.

"He was on a hunt and got trapped under a Kainde Amedha he had impaled with his spear. They are a very nasty alien with acid blood. It burned off his leg and damaged the muscles on the side."

"That's gotta hurt. Poor him." Thwei-Tjau'ke growled something.

"He says not to pity him because Yautja warriors wear the marks of their battles with pride. He also says it was his own stupidity that got him trapped." translated Matt. "Oh, by the way. How did you clear the house?"

"My foster parents decided that I needed to celebrate my eighteenth birthday with my girlfriends all alone. So they went out with some of their friends and got Tomas to stay with his best friend." She smiled evilly. "Hey Matthew, are you some kind of criminal or celebrity that needs guards all the time, because you're almost never without one of them." Lee said with mock seriousness, joking beneath her stern exterior.

"Nah. I needed a ride and poor old T.J. needed to get out a bit. He's been ever so cramped in his little workshop." A low growl sounded behind him.

"Why are you calling me 'Tee-Jay'? I do not like the ooman version. And why was the fat ooman trying to grab me?" he demanded. Matt patted Thwei-Tjau'ke companionably on the shoulder.

"Hate to break it to you, friend, but…" He trailed off dramatically. The crippled Yautja clicked impatiently. "You have an admirer." Matt finished with a grin. The warrior was silent a moment, then collapsed in to trilling laughter.

"Why…" he asked between bouts. "Would an overweight runt… want to… breed with me?"

"She likes tall, muscular ones." Thwei-Tjau'ke nearly lost control.

"She is inferior! I would break her in half!" he cackled.

"Um." said Celia, "What's so funny?"

Matt stifled his own snickers to answer, "Thwei-Tjau'ke wanted to know why Monica wanted to hang off his arm, so I told him that she thinks he's attractive, and he thought that was hilarious because, uh…" Matt coloured slightly and continued, "He imagined them coupling and thought that he would break her in half."

"I hope it's not mutual." Celia said. No doubt she was thinking of the fearsome, insect-like mouth.

"No. Their females are usually around nine feet tall and dominant."

"Ohhh, I see. Bet you almost shit yourself when you saw one of them for the first time."

"Yep." Just then, the front door banged open in the hall.

A loud voice yelled, "LET'S GET THIS PARTY STARTED, MOFOS! WOO!"

Celia grinned and said, "Landis just got here! C'mon. I wonder if the Jose, George and Damien are with him?" Matt didn't need to hear Celia's confirmation; his light mood fizzled slightly. Celia lugged on his arm. "C'mon!" she exclaimed again.

"Alright, alright. You don't need to tear off my arm." So. The coward had returned. Either he hadn't heard from his beaten friends or he chose to disregard their warnings. He'd regret ever skipping the fight if Matt ever caught him alone.