Chapter Note: Thanks for all the prompts coming my way! I love all of them, some of them are getting my muse all excited. Please keep sending them – they can be as specific or as vague as you want; you can send me a quote, or song lyric or a specific situation, anything really. Just a note though: I may not write them all in the sequence that I receive them, and what I write may not be what you had in mind when you gave me the prompt… I write as my muse flows so whatever comes to me will get written first.
Prompt: Okay, so maybe he doesn't completely hate Halloween. For Tirsh.
. . . . .
He walks into yet another hanging fake spider and resists the urge to shudder. He doesn't understand what is so great about celebrating a festival dedicated to the undead, pumpkins and all things in a manner of orange and creepy.
Andy sees the horrified look on his face, and immediately bursts into laughter. "You aren't squeamish over a little insect, are you, Officer Collins?" she teases, her stomach already beginning to hurt from the effort she's expending.
"It's not funny, Andy," he scowls at her. "How can you live like this?"
"Live like what?" Andy fixes the fake teeth that are covered in fake blood and turns to scare him, only to nearly fall on the floor herself from the laughter that overcomes her when he literally jumps backwards in fright.
"Like this!" He gestures angrily, after he's sort of recovered from the shock. This is precisely why he hates Halloween; he doesn't think his heart can take the constant pressure of being confronted with ghouls and ghosts.
"You're such a wimp, you know that?" Andy tells him, a little annoyed that he's spoiling her fun. She loves Halloween, loves the dressing up in costumes and pretending to be someone – or something – else for the night. But right now Nick is putting a damper on her festive decorating and she doesn't want to start carving her pumpkin when he's in a foul mood and very likely to ridicule her effort.
"I'm not a wimp," Nick protests. "I just don't see the point in having a festival where all you do is dress up and get scared."
"That's just the point, Nick. It's for kicks. We don't get many opportunities to dress up, pretend to be something we're not and go out and have some fun. Lighten up, won't you?"
Nick mutters something under his breath, but then a thought strikes him. "You're not expecting me to dress up, are you?"
Andy gives him a horrified look, as if the idea of him not getting in costume is akin to the end of the world. "Of course you have to!"
"Oh no. No, no, no," he tells her firmly.
"Well…" Andy drops the roll of cutout ghost figures she had been in the midst of unrolling and sashays over to him.
Nick takes a step backward and gives her a wary look, but Andy just keeps advancing. "If you don't get dressed up, I won't get dressed up either."
He breathes a sigh of relief, thankful that Andy is coming to her senses.
"But," she continues. "It means that you won't get to enjoy my costume after the party."
His curiosity is now piqued, so he can't do anything else but sigh. "Fine, you can pick out my costume."
. . . . .
"This party is awesome!" Chris yells at him over the volume of the music, and Nick thinks it's better if he kept quiet, because the shouting is adding to his headache.
Half of 15 is gathered in Andy's apartment, and every single one of them had adhered to the dress code. Chris is a Flintstone, Dov as some superhero that he's never heard of, Gail is the Ice Queen of Narnia (big surprise there), Traci is Cleopatra and Andy is… missing.
He looks around, wondering where on earth she is. He hasn't seen her since the first guest when she went to change, and he's thinking that she can't possibly be taking that long and missing her own party.
Heading to her bedroom, he knocks lightly. "Andy? Are you in there?" He tries the knob, but it's locked.
"One minute!" comes her muffled reply, followed by a yelp of some kind.
"Andy, are you okay?" He calls out again, wondering what sort of trouble she's getting herself into. Just as he contemplates kicking the door down, the lock clicks and Andy opens the door.
"Hi," she greets him. He furrows his brows. "Why are you in your robe?" He asks, feeling confused. "Please tell me that isn't your costume."
"It's not," she assures him, taking his hand and pulling him into the room and clicking the lock into place.
"Andy, what –" His sentence goes unfinished as he turns to Andy and sees her dropping the robe, revealing a tight leather cat suit.
"Meow."
A shiver excitement snakes up his spine as he moves towards her. "Catwoman," he breathes as his lips seek hers.
"Like it?" She asks between kisses.
"Love it," he tells her honestly. The black leather clings in all the right places and he's running his hands all over, feeling the smooth material under his hands as they dip with every curve of her body.
His lips move to her neck, and Andy jokingly tries to push him away. "Nick, we have guests outside," she protests.
"I'm not the one who locked the door," he points out, to which she can only nod.
"I did, but this is the first Halloween party I'm throwing in this apartment, so…" Andy trails off as his teeth reach her ear lobe and she lets out a moan as the sensations coursing through her body.
"So everyone else can just continue drinking all our beer and blasting that awful music, because you, Andy McNally, are not going anywhere. We're having our own private party in here," he tells her.
"I thought you didn't like Halloween parties," she moans again as his lips move away from her ear and down her neck.
"I don't," he tells her honestly. But as he peels the material off her, all he can think of is, okay, so maybe he doesn't completely hate Halloween after all.