A/N: Hey, friends! I'm sorry that it's been a while! A word of advice for all aspiring authors: Make sure you have plenty of cushion before posting chapters to a long story, if you intend to have long fics. I'm really glad I was able to post all of my main chapters before life got crazy. I apologize for falling a little behind on these extra content chapters, but here you go! I reward your patience!
Here's a special Extra Content Halloween scene, in celebration of the holiday~!
Fairy Tail Halloween
The moon was rising above the hills, full and orange, like a pumpkin before carving. It cast an eerie glow on Magnolia, creating the perfect setting for the night's festivities. Spider webs hung from lamp posts. The Sola tree was filled with flickering orange and black lights, and lights shaped like spiders. Dancing skeletons hung from its lowest branches. Bowls of candy sat outside the shops. Children cackled as they strode through town in costumes, baskets slung over their arms.
It was Halloween in Fiore, and the citizens of Magnolia were in celebration. None more, perhaps, than the members of Fairy Tail, of course.
The guild hall was covered with so many decorations that it was almost unrecognizable. Spider webs, ghosts, tomb stones in the yard, skeleton dogs and cats (and dragons). Creepy music inviting children to the doorsteps for candy, while the adults gathered inside for the annual Halloween party.
Just outside the guild garden, two figures were crouched down, heads close together so they could whisper.
"This is it, the perfect opportunity for an extraction," one man said, his glasses glinting with deviousness.
"They won't see us coming," his partner agreed. He nodded his head, and a single, dangling earring caught the light.
"We must not get caught, Doranbolt, under any circumstance." The first man's purple gaze was serious. "If we do, you will be responsible for altering the memories of the entire guild."
"Yeah, I don't want that hassle." The second man winced, as if just imagining it was painful. He ran a hand over his shaved head. "But listen, Lahar… Do you really think they're stupid enough to fall for this?"
Lahar closed his eyes while he untied his usual ponytail. "Yes, as a matter of fact, I do." He shook his hair out. "Even if I did not think so, I think we can count on them all being drunk enough to fall for it, at least."
Doranbolt smiled wryly. "Well… can't argue with you there."
"Right, well then. Shall we?" Lahar stood up, and presented a cloth offering to his partner. Doranbolt took it, and allowed the white sheet to unfold.
Both men donned the sheets, which hung loosely over them, with slits for the eyes. The most low-budget, basic ghost costumes imaginable.
"Remember our targets," Lahar said.
"The two Oracion Seis members, Midnight and Cobra," Doranbolt replied. "Extract them, bring them to the capitol."
Ghost-Lahar nodded to confirm. The two men stood, then approached the back doors of the Fairy Tail guild hall…
Piper looked at his watch, and groaned. He looked back at his reflection in the mirror, dabbed some hair gel on his fingers, and slicked it through his baby-blue hair. Despite his attempts, he couldn't control the cowlick he'd had since he woke up that morning.
"Dammit, it ain't worth it!" He threw his hands up in defeat, and resolved to wear a beanie instead.
He turned to leave the bathroom, then gasped in horror. He stumbled back, knocking bottles of hairspray and makeup off the counter. When he regained composure, he scowled in disgust at the shadow in the doorway.
"The hell, Mac?! As if you's ain't scary enough! What're ya tryin' to give me a heart attack?!"
Macbeth smirked, then stepped inside the bathroom to look at his own reflection. "Hm. I'm not surprised a coward like you is afraid of something as harmless as a cat, Piper."
"I ain't afraid of cats, asshole! I'm scared to death of you's tryin' to be cute! Ugh, I feel like I'm gonna puke!"
Macbeth adjusted his cat-ear headband, still grinning at his reflection. "I think Dreamer will approve."
"Goddamn—I can't do this. I'm leavin' Fairy Tail, pickin' up a life as a traveling magician. I can't take one more minute of you's and Dreamy's preening for each other like… like… hell, birds in spring or something."
"I'm not a bird." Macbeth lifted a makeup pencil to draw whiskers on his face. "I'm a cat."
"I hate you's. Get the hell out of my way." Piper shoved him aside, nearly messing up the fourth whisker.
"My, my, someone is exceptionally foul today," Macbeth taunted loudly after him. "Not in the holiday spirit, Piper?"
"I hate Halloween." He sat on the floor to pull on a boot.
"Superstitious?" Macbeth applied black lipstick.
"Why do you's care, sicko? Just keep makin' yourself up and leave me the hell alone!"
Macbeth cocked his head, admiring his face for a moment. "Bad memories? Let me guess. Bigger, smarter kids always stole your candy growing up, didn't they? Pathetic little leech, weren't you?"
"HEY!" Piper chucked an empty soda can at him, which smacked harmlessly against the doorframe. "You's got some nerve callin' me a leech when you've been livin' in my room for months! 'Sides, I'd bet the pot that you's ain't celebrated a Halloween in your life, seeing as your whole childhood was spent in that tower."
Macbeth paused, his eyes darkening slightly.
Piper noticed the change, and scrunched his face up in guilt. He finished the shoelace he was working on, then sighed. "Look, I… Maybe that was too far. Just… Damn. You's know that kiddo of mine? The one I ain't met cuz my broad ran for the hills when I was an alcoholic? Only thing I knows about that kiddo, is that they was born on Halloween. Don't even know if it's a girl or guy, only ever found out when she had 'em." He sighed, heavier this time. "So's… it's a sore spot for me, and I'd really like a keg right about nows, but I'm not breakin' sobriety, even if this party gets out of hand."
"Hm." Macbeth finished putting thick eyeliner around his eyes. "Maybe you should just think about having fun tonight, Piper, instead of thinking about the past."
Piper stared across the room at his roommate, totally dumbfounded. "What the… Are you's…?" He couldn't even finish the sentence, he was so flabbergasted.
"I know I'm going to have fun…" Macbeth continued, voice drawling mischievously. "Mm, what do you think she'll wear…? Something skimpy, I'm sure."
"GODDAMMIT MAC! I shoulda known you's was just looking for a opportunity to rile me up!" Piper stood up and stormed for the door. "I swear to god, if you's try to bring her back to my room tonight, I'm gonna shove a handful of sharpened poker chips down your throat!"
Macbeth's response was a low purr.
"GAH! I mean it! I'm leavin' town! I can't take it anymore!"
Piper slammed the door hard behind him.
"Are you girls ready?~" Mirajane stood in the apartment living room, a grin on her face. "I can't wait to see what everyone dressed up as!"
Feet scampered down the hall.
"Auntie Mira, how do I look?!" Syllestra ran into the room, then stood proudly in front of Mira, hands on her hips. She was wearing a red wig, and a suit of armor made from foam, painted gray. In her hand was a foam sword.
"Wow, Syllest! You look more like Erza than Erza does!"
"Really?!" Syllest beamed brightly, despite the complete lack of logic in the statement. "Do you think I'm scary enough?!"
"Oh, definitely!" Mira giggled, and pat her on the head. "They picked the right girl to run the Haunted House this year!"
"Yeah! I hope I make someone cry!" She waved the sword wildly in the air, accidentally hitting the fan blades in the process.
"Dreamer!" Mira sang. "We're waiting on you~"
"I know, I know, I'm sorry!" Dreamer came out of the bathroom a few moments later, still fixing a ribbon to her hair. "Do I… look okay?"
She was dressed as a fairy. Glittery wings, curled extensions in her hair, a green dress with a tutu made from leaves and feathers. And, as her interpretation dictated, a fluffy tail.
"Fairies do have tails!" Syllest giggled, as she ran in circles around her.
"You're so cute, Dreamer!" Mira nodded in approval. "You even put on real makeup!"
Dreamer deadpanned. "So, you're saying the makeup I usually wear isn't real?"
"You usually only wear eyeliner, silly! I never see you go all out like this." She smiled warmly at her friend. "I just think you're beautiful, is all."
Dreamer's face softened. She smiled back. "Thank you, Mira. What about you? Where's your costume?"
"Right here!" She bent over to pick a head up from the floor. She put her head inside of it and curtsied. "Tada!"
Dreamer and Syllest both paled slightly, sweat beading on their foreheads.
"Ah… That's…"
"Auntie Mira, why are you dressing up as an ugly old trash bag?"
There was a sniffle from somewhere inside the mask. "It's not a trash bag! It's Master!"
Dreamer narrowed her eyes and re-examined the headpiece. Syllest was right, it looked like a wrinkly white trash bag. She supposed the tufts of fur… or feathers?... might have represented hair. And it looked like two buttons had been glued on to make asymmetrical eyes…
"Master?" Syllest turned around and bent over, so she could take a second look at Mira from upside down, between her legs. "Are you sure, because—"
"It looks just like him!" Dreamer smacked her hand over Syllest's mouth. "I'm so proud of you for making your own costume this year, Mira!"
"Thank you, Dreamer!" came the muffled response.
"Mom!" Syllest smacked her hand away. "Come on! I want to find Romeo! And I want candy!"
Dreamer nodded. "Ready Mira? Let's go see this party!"
When the girls arrived, the party was already in full swing. The guild hall was packed with members. Countless people in all varieties of costumes, gathered around the punch bowl, bobbing for apples, getting ready for the dunk tank, or carving pumpkins. Only moments after walking in, Romeo pushed his way through the crowd to the girls.
"Syllest! Finally!"
The little boy had temporary pink dye in his hair, a scarf made from newspaper scraps, and a plastic fireball in his hand.
"Romeo! You look just like Natsu!" Syllest squealed with delight.
"And you look like Erza!"
"We're so cool!"
"Scary cool!"
"We're gonna scare everyone!"
"Yeah, but…" Romeo snatched her hand. "You're late! We can't scare anybody if we don't go to the haunted house!"
"Bye, Mom!" Syllest waved over her shoulder before she was dragged completely out of sight.
"So cute," Mira giggled. "I have to go get ready for the costume contest! I'm going to be a judge! What are you going to do, Dreamer?"
Her cream-haired companion blinked, eyelashes fluttering slightly. She scanned the room for a moment. "Oh, I… I'm sure I'll find something to—"
"Looking for something, Dream?"
The all-too familiar drawl crept over her shoulder, sending chills to the base of her spine. She swallowed nervously before turning to face him. "Macbeth, I… Oh."
The words caught in her throat at the sight of him. Macbeth, in tight black clothes, sporting kitty ears, whiskers, a collar, and tail. And somehow, his makeup was considerably more seductive than usual. Maybe it was the enviable wings of his eyeliner…
"What's wrong, sweet Dream?" He cocked his head, eyes gleaming. "Cat got your tongue?"
She swallowed dryly at this comment.
"Have fun, you two." Mira gave Dreamer a long-lashed wink before making her way to the stage.
"M-Macbeth, I…" she scrambled to look… well to look like anything besides a flustered teenager. "I didn't expect you to dress up, honestly. I was expecting a 'is this what fairies really do for entertainment?' rant."
His smirk was never faltering, as those invasive red eyes blatantly scanned her from head to toe. "You have so little faith in me, Dream. Maybe I like Halloween."
She instinctively crossed her arms over her chest. "Or maybe you just like to tease me."
"Maybe…" he stepped close to her, and lowered his lips until they touched her hair. "…it's a little bit of both."
Heat rushed to her cheeks, simultaneous with the warm tingling she suddenly felt in her abdomen. Her lips parted, instinctively, even though he'd made no motions to kiss her. She'd almost completely forgotten that the two of them were in the center of a very public and crowded party. It seemed like Macbeth had forgotten too, by the way his fingertips brushed slowly up her exposed back.
They might have continued in this dangerous fashion, if Dreamer didn't suddenly catch sight of powder-blue hair out of the corner of her eye.
"Piper!" She said suddenly.
Macbeth groaned, as if the name was an instant mood-killer.
The gambling wizard was stationed nearby, next to a table lined with treats and a punch bowl. Spider web tablecloth covered the table. Chocolate cupcakes dripped red jelly, and were adorned with severed sugar fingers. The red punch bubbled and frothed in a cauldron, with plastic eyeballs bobbing on the surface.
Piper glanced up when he heard his name. He smiled at Dreamer, saw Macbeth behind her, and rolled his eyes, quite dramatically.
"Sorry, Macbeth, I have to say hello," Dreamer said, leaving him pouting behind her as she approached the table.
"Yo, Dreamy." He tugged on the black beanie he was wearing, covering up a bit more of the long side of his hair. "You's look nice. Can't say the same 'bout your choice of company, though." A glare at Macbeth, returned with a crude gesture.
"You didn't dress up," she commented.
"Never do, doll." He gave a wry smile.
"Are you okay?" She asked, with a knowing frown. "Thinking about her?"
"Who?"
"Your daughter."
Piper raised an eyebrow. "How's you know my kiddo's a girl, Dreamy? Could be a good-lookin' guy, like me."
"I just have a feeling." She smiled gently at him. "Are you sure you're okay?"
He nodded, returning the smile. "I'm good, doll."
"Why are you standing over here by yourself?"
He scowled and eyed the bubbly punch. "Cuz' I'm in charge of refilling that bad boy when it gets too low."
She blinked, uncomprehending. "Why you?" It seemed a little unfair to leave Piper in charge of the non-alcoholic beverage section.
"I don't know, doll, 'cuz chikadee's got a sick sense of humor? Jus' lemme do my job. I gotsta make sure no one spikes the damn punch bowl." He was looking at it like he'd like to be the one to spike it.
Dreamer giggled. "Okay, well, I'm going to look around with Macbeth. Have fun!"
"Yeah, yeah." Piper rolled his eyes. "Just scream if that asshole gives you any trouble. And don't goes into any dark places with 'im, you gots it? He's extra satanic today."
Her cheeks colored slightly, as if "extra satanic" was just how she liked him.
"Ugh, I'm gonna puke…" Piper gagged, and looked away from her.
"Sorry!" Dreamer said, unapologetically, before skipping back to Macbeth's side.
Piper watched them walk away for a moment, noting passively how the sadist's hand dropped low on her waist, and he flashed Piper the middle finger without even glancing back.
"Kinda wish the Council would send someone to arrest that bastard…" he grumbled, before crossing his arms over his chest and staring furiously at the punch bowl.
"Hey, Pipe. I knew I'd find you here." A new voice called out to him. Cana came up from behind, then leaned on the table. She, like Piper, had decided against wearing a costume. Though her bra was festively black with a silver skull and crossbones over her right breast, not that he was staring.
"'Sup, babe?" He grinned.
"Oh, nothing much." She opened the fuzzy satchel she wore, and extracted a bottle full of clear liquid.
"WHOA, babe, what the hell you think you're doin?'" He snatched her wrist when she popped the cap off the bottle and went to hold it over the punch bowl.
"Don't be a baby," she snapped at him. "It's a party. Someone's got to do it."
"Not happenin,' doll." He put himself between her and the punch bowl. "I ain't lettin' you spike the punch."
"Tch. Since when did you turn all goody-two-shoes, Piper?" She narrowed her eyes accusingly at him. "Come on, it'll be hilarious."
"No way." He shook his head. "There's kids here, Cana."
"So?" she didn't drop her fierce gaze. "You're the Punch Protector, right? Don't let them drink any."
"Babe, you're pushin' your luck." He stared right back. "Don't make me call for Master."
"You wouldn't." She drew her face closer to his.
"Would so," he said, drawing his face closer too.
"No balls." She bared her teeth.
"I gots balls, baby." He countered.
Suddenly, her demeanor changed. Her eyebrows raised, and her amethyst eyes flickered back and forth between his. Her lips parted, ever so slightly, followed by a sharp intake of breath.
Piper blinked, taken unawares by the change. His adam's apple bobbed when she leaned forward, suddenly pressing her body against his. He stumbled back, slightly, nearly knocking the cauldron of punch over.
"C-Cana?" His cheeks were bright red, eyes locked on the seductive look in hers. "B-Babe, you's a'right?"
"Piper, you're…" She put her arms around him, pressing her scantily clad chest harder against his.
"I-I'm what, doll?" Steam might as well have been rising from his skin.
"You're…" She drew her face closer and closer, until her breath tickled his goatee. "Such a sucker!"
She laughed out loud, while she victoriously poured the contents of the bottle into the punch, with her arms around his back.
"WHAT THE—" Piper shoved her off, and spun around, but it was too late. "That was a cruel trick, doll! Using me like that! I ain't some tool, you's know?!" He was now red from embarrassment.
Cana was doubled over, laughing at the top of her lungs. "Oh my god, that was way too easy! Did you think I was going to kiss you?!"
"H-Hey, lower your voice, babe! You're makin' me look bad!"
"Move," she straightened up, then pushed him aside. She picked up the ladle in the bowl and drew it straight to her lips. She tasted the concoction, and smacked her lips together as she thought. "Taste this and tell me if it's obvious." She held the ladle to Piper's lips.
"Um. No." He pushed her arm aside. "What part of 'sober,' don't you's get, babe?"
"What's sober?" she said, cheekily.
"Guess you's wouldn't know anyt'ing about that, would you's?" Piper gave a harassed sigh.
"I need someone to taste this." She scanned the crowd. "Hey!" She shouted at two figures passing by. "Come here! Yeah, you two! The ghosts!"
The ghosts walked over, slowly, as if uncertain.
"Who's under there?" Cana asked, narrowing her eyes.
"Uh…" the ghosts looked at one another.
"We're… um…"
"Babe, ain't it obvious?" Piper rolled his eyes. "It's Jet and Droy."
The ghosts shared a look, then nodded vigorously.
"Yes, that is correct."
"We're totally Jet and Droy."
Piper nodded smugly. "Told you's."
"Whatever, I don't care." Cana dipped the ladle in the punch and then shoved it in one of the ghost's faces. "Taste this."
"Ah, but I…"
She grabbed his head and tilted it back, before pouring punch on the sheet, over his mouth, thus staining the white sheet with streaks of red. The poor ghost gurgled for breath under the suffocating sheet and spiked punch.
"Babe, don't kill 'im!"
"Well?" Cana stepped back and looked expectantly at him. "How is it? Does it taste like alcohol?"
"…No?"
"Hehe, nice." Cana grinned deviously. "My work here is done."
"Pardon me," the other ghost said, as he patted punch off his partner's chest with a napkin. "Have you seen Midnight or Cobra anywhere?"
"You's mean Mac and Erik?" Piper asked.
"Yes."
"Yeah, I seen Mac, a'right." Piper scoffed, bitterly. "He's wearin' cat ears and totin' around a cute number in a fairy costume. They went that way."
"You have my sincerest thanks." The ghost nodded, then dragged his stained partner away.
Cana watched them go for a moment. "Hey, Pipe?"
"'Sup?"
"Was there something weird about Jet and Droy?"
"Huh? Why's you ask?"
"Eh. It's probably nothing." She waved it off. "See you later."
"W-Wait, doll! You're just gonna leave me hangin' here?"
She walked a few steps, then paused and looked back at him. Her expression was mischievous. "Why don't you come find me later? After you refill the punch bowl. We can play a one v. one card game in the basement. Just the two of us." A wink.
This time, Piper did knock over the punch bowl, and Cana pranced off with an evil cackle.
A large, clear tote sat on the ground, surrounded by pumpkins and hay. In it, were about two dozen red apples, floating in water. Two men were braced on either side of the tote, sparks flying between their eyes as they awaited the word to begin.
"Betcha I get at least ten more apples than you, ya pervy stripper," Natsu said. He was wearing horns, wings, and a tail, obviously depicting a dragon. But he was also wearing a headband and a belt full of kunai. A… ninja dragon?
"Oh yeah? We'll see, flame-brains." Gray snapped back. He was in a cliché vampire costume. A simple cape and plastic fangs.
"You can do it, my sweet darling Gray!" Juvia cheered from the sidelines. She, after learning that Gray would be attending the party as a vampire, had decided to go as a "vampire victim." This meant that she wore a tiny halter top and skirt, and had painted vampire bite marks all over her entire body. She proudly proclaimed that these were "love bites" to anyone who asked.
"Alright," Max tapped on his watch. "Time starts… NOW!"
Gray and Natsu plunged their heads into the tote. They lifted them out instantly, when Natsu's horns smashed into Gray's skull.
"Ow, take those off, dude!"
"No way! I'm not the stripper here!"
"Gray, darling. You lost your cape again."
"Whatever, let's just do this!" Gray stuck his face back in the water. Natsu did the same.
With the speed and ferocity of a herd of wild horses, the two of them bit apples and threw them violently out of the tote. The apples weren't even landing in the corresponding baskets to be counted. Instead, they were flinging in all directions, splattering applesauce on the passersby.
Juvia watched in awe. "Oh, the way he sinks his teeth into those apples! What I wouldn't give to be the water in that tote right now, feeling my beloved lips~" She noticed that Natsu seemed to be chucking the apples slightly faster than his opponent. "Oh no! I can't let my sweet Gray lose!" She held her hands out and manipulated the water, purposely pushing the remaining apples toward Gray, and away from Natsu.
"Hey, what the heck?!" Natsu pulled his head up, flinging water everywhere. "That's cheating, iceboy! Tell your girlfriend to stop rigging the game!"
Gray lifted his head and bared his fangs at Natsu. "First of all, she's not my girlfriend! And second of all, what are you afraid you're gonna lose, Natsu?"
Juvia was already bawling at the "not my girlfriend comment."
Flames gathered around Natsu. "No way! You can cheat all you want, I'm still gonna kick your butt into next week!"
"That so?! Bring it on!"
The men abandoned bobbing for apples. They opted instead for picking the apples out of the water and chucking them at each other, full force. People screeched and ducked to avoid the battle.
"Can't they go one night without trying to kill each other?" Someone in a panda costume yelled.
"Those two? Never!" An alligator answered.
Two ghosts were slinking against the wall nearby.
"Look," the ghost wearing glasses whispered to his comrade. "I see Cobra over there, near the pumpkins."
"I see him too," the punch-stained ghost replied. "If we can get him alone—"
"Do not forget his hearing."
"I don't think he's paying much attention. Do you have the dog-whistle?"
"Yes. This will render his ears useless. Then, we lure him into the hall, and—" Before the ghost could finish talking, he was suddenly pelted with a flaming apple. The apple splattered, and his white sheet caught fire.
"Crap, sorry!" Gray shouted. "Good going, Natsu, you almost killed Droy!"
"Help! He's on fire!"
"I got this, buddy!" Natsu picked up the tote of apples and flung the entire thing at the ghosts, who were instantly drenched. The plastic tote bounced off the punch-stained ghost's head.
"Oops." Natsu gave a sheepish smile.
"Can you be any more stupid?!" Gray said.
"Shut up, ya frozen vampire!"
"What are you supposed to be, anyway? A lizard who crawled through someone's closet?"
"I'M. A. NINJA. DRAGON!"
The now shivering, wet, punch-stained ghosts crept away from the chaos, as fists began to fly…
A table was set up near the west windows, with pumpkins of various shapes and sizes, and an assortment of carving tools. The only people currently at the pumpkin carving station, were Erik and Kinana.
Erik was wearing a green costume, with a bow strapped to his back, and a blond wig. His pointed ears stuck out from the strands of blond hair.
Kinana had decided to be true to her previous name, and was dressed as a purple snake.
The couple sat opposite one another at the table, each carving their own pumpkin.
"Are you having fun, Erik?" Kina asked with a glance up from her art.
"Eh. Out of the parties you people have all the time, this is one of the more bearable ones." He frowned at his pumpkin.
"I'm so glad you're enjoying yourself." She smiled brightly. "Um… Erik? Did we celebrate Halloween before… Nirvana?"
He shook his head. "Nah. Brain taught us that stuff like this was pointless. Can you really picture the Seis celebrating any holiday?" He paused with the knife in his hand. "Come to think of it, we did sometimes exchange presents on Christmas. Secretly. Small stuff, though, so he wouldn't notice. He caught Midnight opening up a book Hoteye got him one year, and locked him in…" He got a faraway look. "Anyway. That doesn't matter anymore."
"I'm sorry." Kinana looked awkwardly at her lap. "I was just wondering."
"I have to say, it's pretty neat to be creating all these new memories and traditions with you and Macbeth, though. Kind of wish the others were here to have a piece of all these fuzzy feelings." He smiled.
"That would be nice." She giggled quietly. "Oh, are you planning on spending time with Macbeth tonight?" He hadn't made any effort to leave her side since they showed up at the party.
"No way," he scoffed. "Have you seen him?"
"Mhm!" she nodded vigorously. "I saw him with Dreamer! I think it's so great that he dressed up!"
"I think I could have lived my entire life without ever seeing Midnight in clothes that tight." He made a sour face.
"Don't you think it's sweet though?"
"There's nothing sweet about Midnight's thoughts right now, trust me." He cringed, slightly. "I really wish the guy would think quietly."
She giggled again, then sat her carving blade down. "How did your jack-o-lantern turn out?"
Erik leaned back and looked at the pumpkin. His ears took a red tinge. "How's yours?" he asked, dodging the question.
She grinned, then turned her jack-o-lantern so he could see. She had carved a bouquet of elegant flowers, three-dimensional in appearance. Erik's ears turned even redder at the sight of this.
"Let's do something else," he said suddenly.
"Wait, but I want to see what you made!"
"No, it's boring. Let's go." He stood up. Kinana reached for the pumpkin, but Erik snatched it out of her reach.
"What's wrong?" She stood up, too.
"Nothing, I just think this is stupid."
In reality, while Kinana had crafted a beautiful and intricate jack-o-lantern, Erik had succeeded in… well, "succeeded" wasn't the right word. Rather, he had utterly failed to create even a simple jack-o-lantern face. There were two triangle eyes of different sizes, not lined up correctly, and a wrong-side-up triangle nose that was accidentally connected to a crooked mouth.
"Erik, don't be silly! You worked hard on that! Let me see!"
Behind Erik, two ghosts were creeping up.
"Ready?" One whispered.
"Yes." The other held a whistle to his lips, under the sheet.
"No, Kina. Maybe I will find Macbeth. Let's go." He tried to side-step, but she leaned across the table for him. In a panic to stop her from seeing his horrible creation, he turned, and threw the pumpkin behind him.
At precisely the same time, Lahar put his lips around the whistle, inhaled deeply, and… was smashed in the face by an atrocious jack-o-lantern.
"Oh no!" Kinana put her hands over her mouth in horror.
The pumpkin had lodged the dog-whistle in Lahar's throat, and now the ghost was choking.
The second ghost put his arms around the first, then yanked on his stomach, trying to force him to spit out the whistle.
Erik narrowed his eyes at the two of them. He opened his mouth to speak, when Lahar suddenly coughed up the whistle. In doing so, the whistle shrieked, and Erik cried out in pain.
"Erik! Are you okay?" Kina ran to his side.
"Come on!" Doranbolt said, urgently. "We need to get out of here!" He pulled his partner away.
"Gah, my head…" Erik held his hands over his ears, teeth gritted in pain.
"Come with me, we'll go somewhere quiet." She let him use her as a crutch, as she led him away from the party.
"Dammit!" Lahar said hoarsely, after catching his breath around the corner. "We let him get away!"
"Forget about that, you almost choked! Are you okay?"
"I am fine." Lahar cleared his throat. "We must not give up yet."
"This is really good punch!" Dreamer commented, while she and Macbeth moved on to the next area. A server had been passing out cups of the stuff, and she was on her third. "Where are we going now?"
"If you're done socializing," Macbeth started, a smirk playing on his lips, "then I have just the thing." He led the way, black tail swishing with every step. Dreamer tried very hard not to admire him from this angle, but… she was feeling a bit bolder than usual. Maybe it was the festive spirit? It certainly couldn't be the third cup of fruity, non-alcoholic punch.
Ahead of them was a line of people, waiting in front of a dunk tank. Every few minutes, the first person in line would throw a ball at a target, and a poor victim would drop into the water. Dreamer dug her heels into the ground as soon as she realized where he was taking her. Macbeth faced her, then gave her hands a tug.
"What's wrong, Dream?"
"I'm not letting you dunk me, Macbeth," she said, matter-of-factly.
He smirked wider. She noted that he was in an incredibly good mood today. Or, as Piper had called it: "extra satanic."
"Please, Dream?" He tugged her closer, then tilted her chin up with his fingertips. "I'm dying of curiosity."
"Curiosity?" She was lost in swirling red.
"Mm, yes." He dragged his tongue slowly along his lips. "I'm dying to know what a wet fairy looks like."
Dreamer squeaked in flustered astonishment. "Macbeth!" She chastised, her whole face bright pink. "Y-You can't say something like t-that!"
"But you like it when I torment you, don't you, little fairy?" He stroked her cheek with his thumb, his expression positively devious.
"I… don't—"
"Hey, D!" A familiar voice called out to her. "Over here!"
Dreamer was successfully rescued by Levy, who was shouting from near the front of the line. Dreamer scampered out of Macbeth's reach all too quickly, electricity still sparking on her skin from his comment.
"Hi, Levy!"
Macbeth followed shortly after, his hands on his hips. His eyes lit up at the sight of the hulking man next to Levy. "Ah, there you are, Gajee."
Gajeel was dressed as a police-officer, handcuffs and a baton hanging from his belt. Levy complemented him perfectly, as a prisoner dressed in stripes.
"Beth!" Gajeel yanked Macbeth unceremoniously into a crushing embrace. "I ain't seen ya all day!" He gave a fang-toothed grin. "So, you decided to be a pussy-cat after all. I didn't think you'd have the guts."
"Shut up," Macbeth warned, with an embarrassed glance at Dreamer next to him. He looked at Levy, and his smirk returned. "My, you two coordinated your costumes perfectly, didn't you?"
Gajeel and Levy looked at each other, wide-eyed. Their cheeks flashed red, and they turned away, crossing their arms at exactly the same time.
"N-No way! Me and short-stuff dressed like this by coincidence, that's all!"
"Yeah, he's right…" Levy awkwardly scratched the back of her hair.
Dreamer giggled quietly at their antics. She could feel the frustration, and the attraction, thick in the air around them.
"Are you going to dunk her, Gajeel?" Macbeth asked.
"Heh, that's right. I had Pantherlily put her name on the sheet." He puffed his chest out proudly, nearly popping a button off the police-shirt he wore.
"You're going to let him dunk you?!" Dreamer looked at Levy in horror. Levy gave an awkward laugh.
"I agreed to it," she said, "on the condition that I get to dunk him afterward."
"If you can even hit the target, small-fry." Gajeel teased.
"Hmph. I'll show you, Gajeel! You can't always make fun of me."
"Dream." Macbeth was staring at her again.
"NO!" She put her hands on her hips and scowled angrily at him. "Just because they're doing it does not mean I'm going to let you dunk me! And don't you dare look at me like that, Macbeth! I'm not falling for it! If I fell in that water, my costume would be ruined! All the glitter would fall off, the wings would probably tear, my hair would be messed up, and I'd cry—do you want me to cry, because I feel like that would put a damper on your mood right now, wouldn't it? And you only want to do it because you're being a weird pervert tonight and you want to see me all wet, and that's… that's, you know, not okay! Stop pouting! No, don't even open your mouth, I'm not making any deals, and I'm not going to let you blackmail me!"
"Ha, she's got him figured out, doesn't she?" Gajeel nudged Levy with his elbow.
Levy was pouting slightly, too. "I shouldn't have let you make deals with me, either…"
"Levy Mcgarden!" The man running the dunk tank called. "You're up."
A sweat drop formed on her forehead. "Okay!"
"Gihi, this is gonna be great…" Gajeel stood at the front of the line, and rolled up his sleeves.
On her way to the stairs, Levy stopped. "Hm?" She saw two ghosts approaching Macbeth and Dreamer. "Oh! Jet, Droy! There you are! I was looking for you!"
The ghosts stopped in their tracks.
"Did you decide against wearing the frog costumes? That's funny, I thought you were really excited about those costumes."
The ghosts exchanged a look.
"Miss Levy," the operator waved his hand to get her attention. "Sit on the bench, please."
"Okay…" She looked nervously at the tank. "Well, have fun you guys!" She waved at the ghosts. They waved back.
Lahar looked back to where Macbeth and Dreamer had been standing. They had vanished.
"They were just here!" Doranbolt cursed.
"Over there, look." Lahar pointed. "I believe Dos Equis stormed off, and Midnight chased after her."
"You mean Dreamly?"
"Yes, of course."
Gajeel picked up a ball and cranked his arm back to throw. "Get ready, shorty!" He threw…
The ball overshot the target by a good ten feet. Levy laughed inside of the tank.
"Hey! It ain't funny! Give me another ball!" Gajeel yanked the bucket out of the man's hands. He threw a second ball. This one was too low, and bounced harmlessly off the glass.
"Aw, Gajeel, you're so sweet!" Levy smiled brightly at him. "You're purposely missing so that I don't get wet, aren't you?"
"What?! No way in hell! I'm just… My shoulder hurts, alright? I'll get it this time!" He stepped three feet back and worked up for another pitch.
He threw as hard as he could. The ball missed the target by only a few centimeters. Instead, it hit the corner of the tank, causing it to shoot at an angle away from the tank, with bullet-like speed… right into the back of Doranbolt's head.
The force of the throw knocked the ghost to the ground, where a server carrying a bowl of candy tripped on him, spilling candy everywhere, and taking Lahar to the ground with her.
"No!" Lahar struggled against Doranbolt, the candy, the server, and his sheet, to try and keep track of Macbeth. It was already too late. By the time the two of them were standing, they'd completely lost sight of the black cat ears.
"How did I miss all of those shots?!" Gajeel was shouting. "Give me one more try, man!"
"Sorry, sir. It's her turn."
Gajeel fumed, then took Levy's place in the tank. "This game is rigged, I'm tellin' ya." He crossed his arms. "I ain't worried. If I couldn't even hit the target once, then there's no way in hell that she'll—"
He was cut off by the sound of the target being hit, and the corresponding dunk into cold water.
"I did it! First try!" Levy jumped up and down.
The two ghosts helped each other break away from the crowd, nursing multiple injuries at this point in the night.
"What the hell are we doing, Lahar?" Doranbolt nursed a bump on the back of his head. "Why can't we just use magic and get this over with?"
"We are trying not to alert the entire guild of our plans," Lahar explained, as he wiped his glasses on the sheet. "If we can extract them without gathering attention, our job will be done."
Doranbolt groaned. "Fine, whatever. But I can't take much more of this."
"Where do you believe they went?" Lahar scanned the crowd, trying to see either cat ears or fairy wings amongst the array of costumes.
"I don't see them anywhere," Doranbolt replied. He gestured toward a door to the right. "That's the haunted house. They could have gone in there to be somewhere private."
"Then let us investigate."
In a side corridor from the main hall, a haunted house had been set up. Dividers with black curtains made a maze out of usually recognizable passageways. There were flickering black lights, fog, eerie music which was just a collection of horrific sounds, like screaming and nails on chalkboard. Several guild members patrolled the halls, dressed as a variety of frightening characters. There appeared to be no consistent theme, considering the first hall was filled with zombies, and the second had a hospital patient, an alien, and a gorilla.
The end of the house was guarded by none other than Syllest and Romeo, or miniature Erza and Natsu. If a guild member managed to make it all the way to the end without screaming, there was a table stacked with some of Macbeth's pastry creations for the taking. Strawberry filled vanilla eyeballs with avocado ooze.
The ghosts entered the haunted hallway.
"It's too disorienting in here," Doranbolt commented. "We'll never be able to recognize him."
"This is, however, the ideal place for taking him out. It would be some time before his absence was noted." Lahar said, nodding approvingly at a flickering light.
"Then, let's check to see if Midnight or Cobra is here, and if they're not, we'll wait behind one of the curtains for one of them to come by."
"Alright."
They walked forward, easily dodging zombies, then avoiding hospital patients. They sidestepped Elfman in the gorilla costume, then had only about thirty feet to go before the final challenge. Lahar held up a hand, however, signaling that they should stop. Ten feet ahead was another figure. A brave soul whom had traversed the halls of the haunted house all alone.
"Hm." Erza prodded an animatronic skeleton dog with her foot. "The quality of this haunted house is mediocre, at best. The acting is believable, but the props lack inspiration! I knew I should have insisted upon heading this operation…"
The redhead was wearing a skin-tight bunny costume, which did not detract from her overall terrifying appearance in the least.
"Stay back," Lahar whispered. "If Erza Scarlet catches on to us, this entire mission is ruined."
Doranbolt gulped. He had a point. Dealing with Erza was the last thing they needed.
"It seems I've conquered this haunted house quest," she continued, as she strode forward. "And my prize awaits me." She eyed the eyes on the table up ahead. Her face lit up. "Could those be… some of Macbeth's strawberry confections? Oh, blessed day!" She bounded forward. "I know I'm only supposed to take one, but surely no one would notice if I took two or three or maybe even ten, after all, it's not often Macbeth creates something new for his devoted dessert fans!"
She was less than five feet from the table, drooling at the sight of the strawberry filling in the cakes. She reached forward with trembling hands, when…
"BOO!" Syllestra leapt out from under the table, valiantly pointing her sword at Erza's chest. At the same time, Romeo tossed plastic fireballs at her, which bounced off her armor.
Syllest suddenly realized that she was facing the real Erza. Her pink eyes went wide with awe. She gasped, and stepped backward, knocking into the table of treats. She regained composure quickly, though, determination shining in her eyes.
"You shall not pass!" She yelled, in her best Erza impression.
Erza's eyes opened slowly. Her lips parted in horror. She stumbled backward.
Syllest blinked, hardly believing her eyes. "Yeah! That's right! Run away!" She yelled. She took a step toward Erza, who gasped. Syllestra gave a war cry, while jumping up and down. This was the breaking point. Erza cried out, then turned on her heels and ran, nearly sobbing.
Lahar and Doranbolt froze, unable to register what was happening in time. They grunted in pain as Erza barreled through them, literally trampling them under her feet on her way out.
"Damn…" Doranbolt groaned as he writhed on the ground in pain. "I think I have a broken rib."
"What on earth happened?" Lahar coughed.
"Syllest! Did you see that?!" Romeo grabbed Syllestra's hands and looked at her with wide eyes. "We scared Erza!"
"R-Romeo!" Syllest wrapped her arms around him and started to cry. "This is the bestest day of my entire life!"
The two children jumped and hugged and spun on the pile of eyeball cakes that Syllest had knocked off the table only moments ago.
At the entrance to the haunted house, Erza burst through the door, pushing over a couple who were in line to go in. She grabbed her bunny ears in both hands, dramatically, the horror still evident on her pale face.
"Erza?" Kinana and Erik were walking by. Kina reached out with concern. "Are you okay?"
"The… cakes…" Trauma was etched on her features. "All of them… on the ground… And she jumped on them, and the strawberries were everywhere…" She ran in the opposite direction, sobbing.
"Did that make any sense to you?" Kinana asked, with a sweat drop.
"Nothing any of you fairies do ever makes sense to me," Erik scoffed in response.
"Hey, you're one of us too, now." She teasingly punched his shoulder. "So, don't be mean!"
"Sorry." He smiled, then put an arm around Kina's shoulders. She inhaled sharply, her cheeks taking color. "Old habit." His arm remained around her as they walked on.
Two trampled, wet, punch-stained, bruised, burned ghosts emerged from the haunted house moments later, heaving for breath, and hunched over in pain.
"Let's just call it off," Doranbolt said.
"No. I refuse to give up so easily! Come, we are sure to capture them at the final event."
"Final event?" Doranbolt limped to catch up.
The guild hall stage had been turned into a catwalk. At the end of it, Makarov stood with his arms outstretched, ready to address the guild. He was dressed as a Christmas elf, complete with pointed shoes, ears, and a candy-striped hat.
The little master projected his voice so everyone could hear. "Gather around, children! We are about to begin Fairy Tail's fifth annual Halloween Costume Contest!" People began to gather from around the room, abandoning the line at the dunk tank, and stumbling away from the punch bowl. "Your judges this year will be myself: the loveable elf who'll sit on your shelf!" His eyes twinkled. "Miss Mirajane Strauss," he gestured toward the judging panel, where Mira stood up and waved. The crowd gasped in horror at the sight of her garbage bag head. "And—"
"Happy!" The little blue exceed announced himself. He leaped into the air, wearing a hotdog bun as a costume. "I'm a hotdog!"
"You're a cat, silly," Mira giggled.
"With no further ado," Makarov hopped off the stage, "let's begin!"
"Our first contestants are…" Mira read off a list, "Wendy and Carla!"
The spotlights came on, music started to play. Wendy emerged from the curtain, blushing slightly. She was dressed up in white and pink with a bonnet and a staff, as little Bo Peep. Carla followed shortly after, in a wool coat with a pink bow around her neck, as Bo Peep's sheep.
"Awwwwwww," the crowd cooed.
The two girls strutted to the end of the stage. Wendy did a twirl. Carla bowed low. Then they turned and walked back through the curtain.
The crowd cheered. The judges conversed before holding up three signs.
Makarov: "8"
Mirajane: "7"
Happy: "7.2"
In the crowd, Dreamer was making her way toward the catwalk. "Excuse me," she apologized as she carefully squeezed past people. Her companion was less friendly about it.
"Get out of our way," Macbeth hissed threateningly at anyone who came close.
Finally, the couple stood on the west side, next to the catwalk. Dreamer clasped her hands together in excitement.
"Tell me again why we're here," Macbeth mumbled behind her.
"We have to watch the contest!" she answered cheerily.
"Why?" his tone was disapproving. "Aren't there better things we could be doing right now?" This was said with the slightest edge of a drawl, as his gaze drifted below her exposed back.
"Because Pops is competing!" she said. "His costumes are always the best!"
Macbeth huffed in annoyance, but took the opportunity to stand uncomfortably close to Dreamer, his chest against her back, lips near her ear. "Why aren't you competing, Dream?"
"M-Me?" She blushed, trembling slightly at his breath on her ear. "This isn't really my thing. Lucy, sure, but not me. I don't like all the eyes…"
"Hmm…" he flicked her wings, which were preventing him from pulling her flush against him. "Would you model for one set of eyes, then?" His voice just above a whisper. "You could strut just for me, little fairy…"
Dreamer shivered. "S-Stop that! What's up with you tonight?" She swallowed nervously, resisting the urge to tilt her head and give him more access to her throat. "B-Besides, you're the cat! Doesn't the catwalk suit you better?"
"Oh, so you want me to pose for you, Dream? I'm sure something can be arranged…" he nuzzled his face against her neck.
She sighed in pleasure, but before she could decide whether to elbow him in the ribs or turn around and kiss him, Makarov was announcing the next contestant.
"Next, we have Miss Lucy Heartfilia!"
The curtains were thrown open in dramatic fashion. Strutting out with her head held high and a grin on her face, came Lucy. She had somehow put together a sexy tarantula costume, complete with a tight, furry dress, and four spider legs on her back. Her cleavage was boosted exceptionally, and the dress was extra short, with furry boots to accompany it.
She walked with all the confidence of a peacock. At the end of the catwalk she posed, then posed again, then posed again, then winked and blew a kiss to the judges.
Hm! There's no way I can lose! Wendy was cute, but the audience wants sexy~ I was born for this.
The judges held up their votes.
Makarov: "4"
Mirajane: "6"
Happy: "Fish"
"WHAT?!" Lucy fumed in disbelief. "Are you three blind?! And Happy, you can't vote 'fish,' that doesn't even make sense!"
Happy was snickering with ninja dragon Natsu next to him.
"UGH! Whatever!" Lucy huffed, then stomped offstage.
On the opposite side from Macbeth and Dreamer, Erik and Kinana stood side-by-side, also watching the show. Erik's arm was still around her, now on her waist. Kinana was smiling contentedly, leaning against his arm.
He used his free arm to tug on one of his ears. "Damn."
"What's wrong? Does your head still hurt?"
"Yeah." He shook his head in frustration. "My hearing is screwed up. It's like… someone blew a dog whistle or something."
"Hm? But there aren't even any dogs here. Unless you count Happy."
This exchange was being watched by two ghosts, hiding in the shadows, ten feet away.
"Perfect, Doranbolt… We will split up. I will approach Cobra, you will circle around and capture Midnight."
"Alright. We've got 'em now."
The crowd continued to chatter. The judges conversed some more. Happy lifted up a megaphone. "Next is, Jezran Excalibur!"
Dreamer hopped on the toes of her shoes in excitement.
There was a pause for dramatic effect. Finally, the curtains parted and out walked Jezran.
The old man was in exactly the same suit and top hat he always wore. The only difference—literally the only difference—was that he was sporting a pair of white gloves.
"Ooooh," the crowd murmured.
"Aaaah," they whispered.
"He's a butler!"
"How clever!"
"Wow!" Dreamer stared starry-eyed at the stage. "I think this is his best costume so far!"
Jezran walked to the end of the catwalk and bowed, tipping his hat.
The audience gave a standing ovation.
Makarov: "10"
Mirajane: "9.7"
Happy: "11 Fishes"
"Dear me, you have my thanks." Jezran twisted his mustache, then exited the stage.
"You have got to be kidding me!" Lucy yelled from behind the curtain.
In the east side of the audience, Lahar crept forward. In his hand was a cloth dabbed in a sleeping potion. If he could just grab Erik fast enough…
"Oops," Kina frowned when one of her costume scales fell off her hat.
"I'll get it," Erik said.
"Oh, it's not that important—"
But the dragon-slayer was already crouching down to pick up the scale.
At the same time, Lahar lunged forward. He wasn't expecting Erik to crouch, so he tried to catch himself too late. He tripped on the edge of his white sheet, stumbled over Erik's crouched form, and landed face-first on the catwalk.
"What the hell was that?" Erik straightened up.
"Huh? I think Droy was trying to get onstage. He and Jet must be competing!"
While this was happening, on the other side of the audience, Macbeth was whispering in Dreamer's ear. Whatever he was saying had steam rising from her cheeks.
Behind the couple, Doranbolt was ready to spring.
"Come on," Macbeth whispered. "You know you want to."
"I…" Dreamer's lip trembled.
"You already saw Jezran's costume, so let's go already."
"Ah… okay." She nodded, shyly.
Macbeth's eyes widened in shock, right before his face broke out in a wide smirk. He grabbed Dreamer's wrist, then tugged her quickly away from the crowd toward a side door. He pulled her away so fast, that Doranbolt's leap missed its mark. The ghost jumped, and belly-flopped onstage.
"What's this?" Makarov stood on the table. "We have two more contestants?"
"Oh!" Mira clapped her hands together. "It's Jet and Droy!"
The two ghosts struggled to stand. Their sheets were in complete disrepair. One was covered in red punch that looked like blood. Water stains colored the cloth. Lahar's sheet had burn marks on it. They were both tattered, shredded in places, marked with dirt and footprints. They limped forward, groaning in pain.
The crowd gasped. Someone screamed.
Makarov: "10"
Mirajane: "9"
Happy, threw his sign in fear, and it smacked Doranbolt in the face.
"We need to get out of here," Lahar said. He gave a fake bow to the audience before leaping from the stage with Doranbolt.
"Midnight went that way!" Doranbolt pointed at the door, then they weaved through the crowd to get away.
Makarov climbed onto the stage, held his hands up, and addressed the audience. "Myself and the other judges have discussed, and we've chosen the winner of tonight's contest! It was a close call, especially with the entry of those ghouls, but we've ultimately decided that the title, along with the cash prize, will go to… Jezran Excalibur!"
Jezran and the other contestants walked out onstage. Black and orange confetti fluttered down while Makarov shook Jezran's gloved hand.
"Truly remarkable, old friend," Makarov said, tears gathering in his eyes. "Such workmanship and skill that went into this costume… I almost can't stand it. Here you go! Your jule reward!"
"Thank you, dear me. Thank you, thank you. Dear me, dear me." He bowed repeatedly, then accepted the wad of cash.
"What the heck?!" Lucy's fists were clenched. "Sure, give the billionaire the cash reward! That was supposed to be my rent money!" She sobbed into her hands.
"There, there, Lucy." Wendy patted her arm.
"Do stop crying," Carla sassed, "it's quite unbefitting of a lady, you know."
"I'm not a lady, I'm a broke tenant!" She slid to the floor.
Meanwhile, Lahar and Doranbolt finally broke free from the crowd. They went through the side door, then looked left and right for any sign of their target. They ran to the end of the hall and turned the corner.
Macbeth and Dreamer had slinked away from the party to this secluded corridor to be alone, per Macbeth's persistent request. When the two ghosts rounded the corner, Macbeth had Dreamer pinned against the wall, assaulting her neck with passionate kisses. She squeaked in surprised horror when she saw they suddenly had an audience.
"Macbeth, stop!" She pushed him away, and quickly fixed her disheveled clothes.
"Mid—" Lahar was about to speak, but the words caught in his throat.
Macbeth had apparently had his attempts to be with Dreamer thwarted too many times tonight, because the look on his face when he turned toward the ghosts, was absolutely murderous. His teeth were bared in a snarl, a dark aura smothered the air around him, his red eyes gleamed like the pits of hell.
"Go. Away." The command was guttural, almost distorted.
"No, we—" Lahar tried again.
Macbeth held out his hand and used his magic to tighten the sheet around Lahar's neck.
"Get lost, you useless fleas, or you'll be leaving here as real ghosts."
"Come on, let's recover," Doranbolt yanked Lahar's arm. "Sorry to bother you!"
Despite his partner's protests, he pulled Lahar away, and through a back door, out of the guild hall, at long last.
Macbeth still fumed in the hallway. He looked back at Dreamer in irritation.
She was flustered by his passion. "Macbeth, you… You must really want…"
"Where were we?" he interrupted. He pushed her shoulders back against the wall, then captured her mouth in another kiss.
"W-wait!" She turned her head, an action that was met with a whine from Macbeth. "What if someone else sees us?"
He cursed under his breath, then pulled her further down the corridor to a closet. She tried to protest, but he was already pushing her inside and slamming the door behind them.
Dreamer gasped when she stumbled over something on the ground. She flicked the light switch.
Laying on the ground, tied up, gagged and unconscious, were the real Jet and Droy.
"Oh my god!" she gasped. "Wait, but if that's Jet and Droy, then who—"
"I don't care." Macbeth ignored the situation entirely, in favor for scooping her legs up around his hips and pressing her against the closet wall.
"Macbeth! We have to do something about them!"
"In a minute," he argued.
"They're knocked out!" She squirmed in his grip.
"Exactly," he grumbled against her collarbone. "They can wait a few more minutes."
"But—"
"Just shut up, Dreamer."
She was successfully silenced by his lips and tongue. At some point, in the midst of kissing her, Macbeth had taken off the cat collar he wore, and snapped it around her neck instead. "Much better," he taunted.
Dreamer sighed happily into a kiss. He was right, their unconscious guild mates could wait just a minute or two…
A block away from the Fairy Tail guild hall. They'd ran an entire block before stopping. Now, Lahar and Doranbolt ripped the sheets off, and faced each other. They were bruised and bloodied, and very, very harassed.
"We failed," Lahar said.
"Don't be so hard on yourself. That was…" Doranbolt scratched the back of his head. "Luck just wasn't on our side."
"I finally understand." Lahar said, cryptically. He was gazing distantly at children going door-to-door in Halloween costumes. "I understand the concept of trick-or-treats."
"What? Lahar, are you alright, man?"
"Tonight, it was us, Doranbolt. We were the ones experiencing the tricks, while Fairy Tail got the treats."
Doranbolt sweat-dropped. "Sure, Lahar. Whatever you say. How about we go home and recuperate?"
"Yes. I am in dire need of rest."
Makarov was looking out a guild hall window with a mischievous smile on his face.
"Happy Halloween~"
A/N: I hope that scene cracked you guys up as much as it did me. I tried to balance just the right amount of sexy and hilarious together. ;) Please, tell me your thoughts! I've missed all of you and your comments!