Disclaimer: not mine.

Happy Halloween
By Megan Reilly
eponine119@worldnet.att.net
February 23, 2001

"Trick or treat!!!!"

"I hate this."

Lorelai smiled as she watched Michel toss candy into the plastic bags and pillowcases of the small children who had come to the inn in costume. He was frowning miserably, and she always enjoyed him when he was miserable. As the kids began to troop away, she saw him begin to relax -- well, as relaxed as Michel ever got. But one of the kids, a little ghost, stopped and turned back.

"What're you dressed up as?" the child asked Michel.

Lorelai just waited, bracing herself. She knew if she broke into howls of laughter she would be in big, big trouble. She also knew she wasn't going to be able to resist.

"I am a French man who does not believe in Halloween," Michel sniffed.

The little ghost looked confused, then walked away. The poor thing looked disappointed, and it took the laughter welling up in Lorelai's chest away quickly. She watched her co-worker carefully as he returned to his perch behind the desk.

"What?" he demanded.

"I think you just spoiled all of that child's illusions," Lorelai told him.

"I did not do anything. Complain about the parents who put the bedsheet over his head," Michel said, looking on the schedule on the computer. Lorelai continued to stare at him, and he continued to try to ignore her. "The cowgirl wishes to complain?"

Lorelai shoved her braids back behind her shoulders and settled her cowboy hat more firmly on her head. "Yes, the cowgirl does wish to complain."

"Too bad," Michel informed her. "We're not full."

"There's food in the kitchen," Lorelai pointed out. "But that's never improved your attitude before."

"The inn. Is not full," Michel said. "In fact, it has not been full for over a month." He looked at her, geniunely alarmed.

"Taken care of," Lorelai reported, "as we speak." Her eyes were on the door, where three men and a woman all carrying heavy equipment boxes instead of luggage struggled into the lobby.

_ _ _

Rory looked doubtfully at herself in the mirror. There were things she loved about Chilton. Even though it had been a difficult adjustment, she loved the books and the challenge of the work. She loved what she was learning. She loved the fact that her classes weren't made up of bored kids who threw pencils at the acoustical tile in the ceiling to see if they would stick, which was a highly admired skill at Stars Hollow High. But then there were things she didn't love about Chilton. The fact that her classmates were all rich snobs with rich parents, kids who'd lived in luxury all their lives and didn't even appreciate it, except for a token attempt at giving back to the community a few times a year. She didn't like that such social events were required as part of the community service requirement at Chilton.

How is this community service? Rory wondered, contemplating her bone white face in the mirror. Black circles ringed her eyes and filled in her cheeks. Sticky disgusting stage blood made from corn syrup matted her hair and dribbled down her face. And then there was the accessory to go with her corn syruped Chilton sweater and plaid skirt -- a large rope knotted loosely into a noose that hung around her neck, the end frayed off. It didn't even make sense, Rory thought. Why would there be all this blood if she'd hanged herself?

Rory didn't mind Halloween usually. Costumes were sort of fun, and there was free candy. Plus, her mom loved Halloween, which made it more fun. But Lorelai wasn't there, and wouldn't be there at the Chilton Haunted House for Charity, because she had to work at the inn. This was no fun at all.

"It's show time," somebody declared, and pushed the button on the tape player. At first the recorded shrieks came out more like squeaks, but then the volume was boosted and finally pushed to an ear shattering level. Rory cringed. She wasn't fond of the sound of people being tortured. She sighed and went into the classroom, where she sat down at her desk with her history textbook and notes in front of her, careful not to contaminate them with the fake blood. If it weren't for the screaming, she might have been able to get some studying done.

_ _ _

"Who is that?" Michel demanded, but Lorelai had already stepped from behind the desk to greet their guests.

"Hi, I'm glad you could make it," Lorelai said, shaking their hands. Although the guys were slightly old and kind of geeky, her smile broadened when she noticed they all appreciated her costume, which consisted of a short suede skirt, a western-style shirt with fringe, and cowboy boots.

"No problem. You'd be surprised, but Halloween is actually one of our slowest nights," the leader of the group said, juggling his suitcases to put them down. "I'm Miles, that's Sarah, John and Scooby." He indicated the other members of the group.

"Scooby?" Lorelai asked.

"'Rat's right," the tall, thin young man declared, sounding exactly like Scooby-Doo, even though his appearance was closer to that of Shaggy. He dropped the accent to continue. "It's a long story."

"I'll bet," Lorelai said.

"Where is the disturbance?" Miles asked, adjusting the thick glasses on his nose.

"On the fourth floor. I'll have a porter carry your things up to your room and get you settled," Lorelai offered. Two of the porters appeared and began loading the identical black boxes onto the inn's only wheeled cart.

"Trick or treat!" The cry came from the door.

"Michel, that's you," Lorelai called. He grumbled as he passed her and shoved the bag of candy at the kids, then moped back to his desk.

"Who are those people?" Michel asked again when she returned to the front counter to gather the papers she'd collected there.

"They're ghostbusters, Michel," Lorelai told him.

"For the fourth floor," he said.

Lorelai nodded. "It's definitely time to get the old geezer to stop harrassing the maids," she declared.

"Not to mention the guests," Michel agreed.

Lorelai leaned against the counter. "You're taking this rather well."

"What do you mean?"

"I expected you to go all Scully on me and say there's no such thing as ghosts," Lorelai continued. Michel said nothing. "You've seen it. You've seen the ghost and you didn't tell me. You dog!" She stared at him. "I cannot believe you saw the ghost and didn't tell me!" Michel still said nothing. "Speak!"

He just smiled his evil French smile. Then the telephone rang and saved him. "Independence Inn, Michel speaking," he answered, still smiling at her.

"That gives me the creeps," Lorelai declared, heading up to the fourth floor.

_ _ _

Several groups of Chilton parents had already been lead through the classroom. At $15 admission, Rory wasn't surprised Chilton parents were the only people coming to this thing. She usually looked up from her studying to try to determine whose parents they were. But she didn't know very many people at the school and her efforts so far had been a miserable failure. She hadn't even recognized any of the kids leading the haunted house tours, telling scary stories in a spooky voice. Rory's story was that she failed an important test or that she got a low SAT score. After all, failure was a part of life but not a part of Chilton.

She swung the rope around so the frayed end hung down her back, out of her way. It was starting to itch on her neck, too, and she scratched idly as the door creaked open and the next group came into the stuffy stillness of the classroom.

Tristan was leading this group and they exchanged a glance. A knot started forming in Rory's stomach because she knew he was going to do something mean in front of witnesses and she wouldn't be able to do anything back. It was part of the rules -- no talking while in costume. She glanced at the group he was leading and vaguely recognized them as students and classmates.

"What's the story here?" one of them asked.

Tristan smiled an evil smile at Rory and she rolled her eyes as boredly as she could and leaned her chin against her hand, concentrating on the details leading up to the assassination of Archduke Ferdinand.

"Mary was such a grind that she never had any fun and never even smiled," Tristan began. Mary again. Rory felt anger boiling up, but tried to ignore it, remain calm, and continue memorizing her history textbook. "She thought she was too smart to talk to the other kids. Whenever anyone asked her out, she just held her book up in front of her face and kept walking."

Rory stared at the shapes of the letters printed in the book, hating him more than she'd ever hated anyone in her whole life.

"Then she realized what a loser she was and hung herself and the next day at school there was a big party. That's why she haunts the school, doomed forever to study."

Some of the other kids laughed at the story and Rory felt embarrassed. She knew there was no reason to be embarrassed. She didn't even know the kids who were laughing. But she did know Tristan and what he'd just said wasn't what he was supposed to be saying. He was trying to hurt her feelings. Which meant she shouldn't let him see that he'd succeeded, because then he would have won. Except not saying anything made her feel like he'd won, too. She really hated him.

Another few stares and chuckles and then she heard their feet shuffling toward the door. "Hey, Tristan," Rory said, suddenly unable to stop herself. He stopped, surprised, but with a satisfied smirk on his face.

"What?" Tristan asked.

Rory smiled her sweetest smile. "Never mind," she said. He turned to push the door open and go as another round of laughter shook the group he was leading. Then he turned back and realized she had her middle finger sticking out and pointing at him. It was really a third- grade kind of thing to do, but that made it perfect for Tristan.

"Don't think you're going to get away with this," Tristan snarled and stomped away.

Rory shut her history book and slipped it into her backpack along with her notes. She didn't want to do this anymore. She wanted to find Lane and go trick or treating in Stars Hollow and then pig out on candy and get a wicked sugar high.

The door opened and she dropped back into her seat for the next tour group. She'd have to wait to make her getaway. "Rory?" her grandmother's voice seared the air and she looked up. "What have you done to yourself?"

_ _ _

"How's it going so far?" Lorelai inquired when she walked into the suite the investigators had been assigned to on the fourth floor.

"Good," Miles declared.

"Anything yet?" Lorelai looked over Scooby's shoulder at the gizmo he was tinkering with. She didn't know what it was, but it looked cool. When he noticed she was looking at it, he jerked it away.

"Just calibrating the equipment," Miles answered.

"How long as the inn been here?" Sarah asked. She didn't have any gizmos, just a spiral notebook and a ballpoint pen.

"Sarah's our history expert," Miles explained. "And Scooby's our technical guru."

Lorelai nodded. "What about John?"

"I'm the marketing guy. I didn't have anything else to do, so I thought I'd come along," John told her.

"How reassuring," Lorelai said. "And you?" she turned to Miles.

"I have more than 20 years experience with paranormal phenomena," Miles declared.

"How many ghosts have you seen?" Lorelai asked, interested.

"None," Miles answered, as though he was surprised that she'd asked.

"Miles used to be a folklore professor," Sarah explained.

"You guys have never caught a ghost before?" Lorelai asked.

"There's a first time for everything," John told her. Lorelai looked at him as though he was crazy. In fact, it was likely all of them were crazy. Perhaps this hadn't been such a great idea after all.

"There was that time we had anomolous readings on the equipment," Scooby reminded them.

"Yeah, that was great," Miles reminisced with a smile.

"But it wasn't a ghost?" Lorelai asked.

"Nah. Turned out I was standing under the air conditioning vent," Scooby said. "Is there any food?" He started looking through the drawers as though some food might be hidden there. Perhaps where he came from, they kept food in dresser drawers. Lorelai wondered what he would do when he found the Gideon bible.

"Anyway, about the inn," Sarah reminded her.

"Right," Lorelai said, thankful to be discussing something that might actually apply to the problem at hand. "The building's been here since before the Revolutionary War. It was a private residence for a while before becoming an inn."

"Were British soldiers ever quartered here?" Sarah asked interestedly.

"Quartered?" Lorelai repeated. "No. They may have been dimed, perhaps nickeled, but never quartered." The group stared at her. For a bunch of ghost hunters they were awfully serious and not very much fun.

"What about battles? This area was active during the Revolutionary War, wasn't it?" Sarah asked, still holding her ballpoint pen poised to write. Poor pen with nothing to note, Lorelai thought.

"You mean like the battle of Stars Hollow?" Lorelai asked and Sarah looked pleased, exchanging glances with Miles and John as though she'd located the source of the problem. Lorelai's smile burst out. "The battle of Stars Hollow involved a bunch of old guys standing out in the cold in the middle of November waiting for Redcoats that never arrived."

"Are you sure there's a ghost?" Miles asked as though she'd offended him.

"People who stay in this room report weird things. And the maids try to avoid being alone in here. Something likes to pinch them," Lorelai said.

"Where?" Miles asked.

"Here, in this room," Lorelai told him.

"Where does it pinch them?" Miles continued.

Lorelai looked at him. "Where do you think?"

"Oh," Miles said, and pushed his glasses up. "I think you'd better go and leave us to our work."

Lorelai nodded, figuring they'd sit around and tell ghost stories and play with their gizmos. Maybe try to raid the mini bar, if only there was one. Then in the morning they'd check out and the ghost would still be there. "Call if you need anything. Hey!" She turned and glared at Scooby.

His expression didn't change. "What?"

"That wasn't funny."

"What?" Scooby asked, and she noticed both his hands were on his electronic device.

"You just pinched me."

"Uh-uh," Scooby said. "Ow," Sarah said, then looked around. She turned around, even though she'd been leaning against the wall. Then she smiled. "A ghost just pinched me on the ass!" she cried. Then her face got pale and her body went limp and she fainted.

_ _ _

"It's a costume, Grandma," Rory explained, pulling the itchy rope from her neck.

"It's completely tasteless," Emily Gilmore declared.

"What're you doing here?" Rory asked.

"I read about the event in the newsletter and thought I should support the school," Emily told her.

"Where's Grandpa?" Rory asked. The student leading the tour looked bored, standing back with crossed arms. This probably happened every time parents encountered their kid as part of the haunted house.

"On a business trip. He's very sorry he missed this, Rory," Emily said.

"Really?" Rory asked, sounding surprised, reaching up to pick at the dried corn syrup and food coloring mix on her face. It itched, too.

"He always enjoyed a good scare," Emily told her.

"Good to know," Rory declared.

"Are you done?" inquired the student tour guide. "Can we move on?"

"You're very rude," Emily informed her. The student shrugged. "I'll see you later, Rory."

Rory nodded and raised a hand to wave. The student tour guide began the spooky story of the hanged student in the boredest voice imaginable, the atmosphere ruined by the "dead" student's conversation with her grandmother. Before they made it out the door, the principal walked in. "You need to come to my office right now," he told her.

Emily stopped in her tracks. "What's going on?" she demanded.

Rory looked to the principal's serious, reddened face. "Did something happen?" she asked.

"You know exactly what happened," the principal told her. "Get your things."

"I don't understand," Rory said.

"Neither do I," Emily declared, standing firm in her tracks even as the rest of the group tried to push around her out of the classroom.

"You made an obscene gesture at a group of students and that's grounds for permanent expulsion," the principal declared.

"What?" Emily demanded.

Rory picked up her backpack and looked worried.

"Rory? Tell Principal Charleston he's mistaken," Emily ordered. "Rory?"

"Perhaps we'd better take this into my office," the principal suggested.

"Perhaps we should," Emily replied, incensed.

Rory wished a hole would open up in the floor and devour her.

_ _ _

Miles looked as though he might faint, too, although Lorelai wasn't sure it whether it was because of the ghost's manifestation or Sarah's use of the ever-so-shocking word "ass."

"Dude," Scooby declared.

"Mmm," Lorelai agreed.

"Aren't you going to do something?" John demanded. No one moved. He stormed across the room to Sarah, loosening her blouse with extreme care and patting her cheeks. Lorelai watched interestedly. John hadn't come along because he had nothing else to do. He had a thing for Sarah. She glanced around. No one else seemed to have noticed. But they were probably not as perceptive as she was.

"You're okay," John murmured as Sarah's eyes opened.

"I'm better than okay," Sarah declared, sitting up. "Ten years hanging out with you guys, looking things up in dusty old library books and never finding a damn thing. It's about time something interesting happened."

"Hey, that settles the matter of a sexual harrassment lawsuit against the ghost," Lorelai quipped, because it had been almost ten minutes and she hadn't said anything even remotely amusing and it was starting to become painful.

"You can't sue a ghost," Miles said, and she wished he would buy himself a sense of humor.

"Are you sure you're all right?" John asked, still staring concernedly into Sarah's eyes. She pointedly didn't notice his puppy dog crush on her.

"What would motivate a ghost to do that?" she asked.

"Maybe he wasn't getting any," Lorelai suggested. Sarah looked at her, and seemed to consider the suggestion.

"Scooby? Any readings?" Sarah demanded.

Scooby looked down, squinting at the device. Sarah stomped over and grabbed it out of his hands. "You're holding it upside down," she informed him. "Look! There's a significantly high field of electromagnetic force in the corner near the window."

Miles jumped almost a foot because he was standing in the corner by the window. "I don't feel anything," he said.

"You will," Lorelai muttered.

"Is there any food?" Scooby asked.

"I'll go down to the kitchen and get some," Lorelai said. She really needed some coffee.

_ _ _

"What is going on?" Emily Gilmore demanded again, this time in Principal Charleston's office. "Rory is a sweet girl who would never - -"

"I think I'd like to hear that from Rory," the principal said, folding his hands on his desk and looking at her.

Rory looked at the backpack on the floor near her feet.

"Rory," Emily said.

"This may have been common behavior at your old school, Miss Gilmore, but we do not tolerate troublemakers at Chilton," the principal said.

"I didn't..." Rory felt on the verge of tears. How could she tell them she hadn't meant anything by it? How could she say that in front of her grandmother, who was always looking for a reason to believe Lorelai hadn't brought her up properly? What had she been thinking. "Tristan," she said.

"The boy who was tormenting you the first week of school?" Emily asked.

"I never heard anything about this," Principal Charleston said.

"No, he didn't, I mean --" Rory stammered.

"Are you saying this boy lied about you?" Emily demanded.

"Perhaps we should get Tristan back in here." The principal picked up the telephone.

"No!" Rory cried. The two of them looked at her. "There's no reason for anyone to get in trouble. No one did anything. This will just make it worse."

"If you're being harrassed by this boy --" Emily began.

"I'm not," Rory said quickly.

"Then what's going on?" the principal asked.

"Nothing," Rory said. "Nothing. Can I go back to my classroom now?"

The principal looked almost as confused as Emily did. "Perhaps we should just go home," Emily suggested.

"I think that would be a very good idea," Principal Charleston concurred.

"Rory, get you coat. And wash that disgusting makeup off your face," Emily ordered, ushering her granddaughter out of the principal's office.

_ _ _

"What is going on up there?" Michel asked.

"They couldn't find a ghost if it bit them in the butt," Lorelai declared. "Which it then tried, to no avail. Then it slipped quietly out of the room in desperation for people who would understand what it was to be truly haunted."

"You are strange," Michel told her.

"Trick or treat!!!!"

"Oh, God," Michel said and went to tend the children.

Lorelai went into the back and poured a cup of coffee. "How goes the ghost hunt?" Sookie inquired. She was dressed as a witch. Well, a witch in a chef's uniform. With a wooden spoon instead of a broom. But a pointed hat.

"Don't ask," Lorelai told her with a sigh.

"You're off in ten minutes," Sookie said with a glance at the clock.

"Then so are you," Loreali said, the smile returning to her face.

"Lorelai," Sookie pretended to protest.

"Pleeeeeeeaaaaase?" Lorelai whined.

"Oh, all right," Sookie agreed. "Pumpkin cookie?" She offered the tray to Lorelai.

Lorelai took one of the cookies and munched it. "Good," she declared. "Can I help decorate?"

Sookie looked at her doubtfully.

"I'll behave, I swear," Lorelai promised.

_ _ _

"What is it about this boy that bothers you so much?" Emily asked Rory in the car on the drive home.

"The fact that he's attempting to bother me so much," Rory answered.

"He likes you," Emily told her.

"Ugh, I hope not," Rory said, although she knew in her heart it was true. Everyone knew it was true, just like everyone knew her mother and Luke secretly liked each other. She just didn't want it to be true that Tristan liked her. Why couldn't he like Paris? Paris wanted him to like her, and they'd be the perfect couple, which was probably the only reason Paris wanted him to like her in the first place.

Emily smoothed back a strand of Rory's hair. "Try not to break their hearts," Emily recommended.

Rory nodded.

_ _ _

"What happened to you two?" Luke demanded in his typical gruff way when Sookie and Lorelai walked into the diner. The two women simply started laughing. "Fine. Don't tell me. Is that icing?"

"Try some," Lorelai giggled, holding out a strand of her hair in Luke's direction. He took a step back.

"Icing fight," Luke determined.

"The best," Lorelai told him.

"Did you save room for dinner?" Luke asked.

"There's always room for dinner," Lorelai declared.

"The usual?" asked Luke.

Lorelai nodded vigorously. "And coffee, too, please!" she called after him.

"Luke makes a nice pirate," Sookie said.

"If pirates wore baseball caps," Lorelai told her.

"Maybe they did," Sookie offered, and they started laughing again. It was the only thing you could do when you were smeared with orange and black cookie icing.

The door opened and Rory walked in. "The dead cheerleader look never goes out of style," Lorelai commented.

"I'm a dead Chilton student," Rory told her.

"Even better," Lorelai said.

"What are you supposed to be?" Rory asked. "A cowgirl cookie?"

"A cowgirl cookie," Lorelai repeated, bursting into laughter again.

"Did you give her decaf?" Rory asked Sookie with a sidelong look. "You know how she gets when she drinks decaf."

"I think she got into the sugar," Sookie replied.

"Kinda looks that way," Rory said.

"She's hysterical," Luke observed, setting plates of hamburgers on the table. "Hi, Rory."

"Hi, Luke," Rory said. "Nice eyepatch."

"Nice blood."

"Thank you," Rory said.

"You're welcome," Luke replied and stood there awkwardly a moment looking at Lorelai, who was still laughing, wiping tears out of her eyes.

"I love Halloween," Lorelai declared happily.

The end.
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