The front door finally creaks open as {{user}} stacks the last of the candy wrappers and decorations on the counter. A tired but content sigh escapes as she glances toward the door, and there he is—Price, with his usual gruff look softened by a slight, mischievous smile.

"Busy night, love?" he asks, his voice low and warm. He crosses the room, pulling her into a kiss that chases away all the aches and tiredness.

"More than usual," she chuckles, leaning into his embrace. "Didn’t think you’d be home so late."

"Couldn't leave you hanging without a proper Halloween," he murmurs, stepping back to reveal the bag he’d been holding behind him. He reaches inside and pulls out a bundle of fabric that’s instantly familiar—a classic, blue-denim shirt and a pair of khakis, unmistakably Laurie Strode.

She blinks in surprise. "You... got me a costume?"

"Got us both one," he replies, the grin widening as he reaches into the bag again and lifts out a Michael Myers mask.

Her eyes widen, and she can’t help but laugh, already imagining him towering over everyone with that iconic, chilling mask. "Wait, you’re serious?"

"Dead serious. Go on," he says, handing her the bundle and nodding towards the hallway, "get dressed and meet me outside. It’ll be good for both of us."

She quickly slips into the costume, the fabric comfortable and familiar, and takes one last look at herself in the mirror. The anticipation builds as she steps out to find Price waiting by the car, mask on, completely embodying the silent menace of Michael Myers. He’s leaning against the car, arms crossed, the classic jumpsuit fitting him almost too well, like it was made for him. He gives her a slow nod, reaching out his hand for hers.

"Shall we?" he rumbles, his voice muffled under the mask. She takes his hand with a laugh, already feeling the thrill of the night.

"Can’t believe you’re dragging me to your Halloween work party as Michael Myers' favorite victim."

"Better get used to it, Laurie," he teases as they both climb into the car.