Rita Rudner
Halloween was confusing. All my life my parents said, "Never take candy from strangers." And then they dressed me up and said, "Go beg for it." I didn't know what to do! I'd knock on people's doors and go, "Trick or treat." "No thank you."

The first thing she saw when she opened her eyes was a vampire. A vampire surrounded by gray flannel. A laughing, dark-eyed, dark-haired, pale-skinned vampire surrounded by flannel.

Emily realized quickly what she was looking at. Someone—and she knew it wasn't her—had dressed her in flannel vampire pajamas. There were little vampire heads, blood-red lips, and little black bats printed all over the flannel. She looked a bit past the arm she had draped over her stomach—which still cramped a bit—and took in the room she'd suddenly found herself in. Generic hospital room, she decided. Then her eyes focused on the window and the creatures standing sentinel.

Garcia's entire troll collection were arranged on the window sill, and a large stuffed one—complete with rainbow hair—was cuddled in Emily's other arm. Emily recognized several of them as those she'd purchased for her friend. Emily was touched that her friend would part with them long enough for them to stand guard, to protect her from demons when she'd been so obviously sick. Emily's mind was still a bit fuzzy on the details. But one thing was becoming increasingly clearer to her, she'd had one hell of a hallucination—or dream. She wasn't quite certain how to classify what she'd experienced.

The trolls weren't the only ones standing guard. Or rather, sitting guard. The pregnant media liaison Emily and the rest of the team had come to greatly appreciate in the last two weeks was sound asleep in the hospital chair beside Emily's bed. Emily was so glad to see JJ there instead of that weird changeling that had taken her place the last two weeks.

It didn't take a trained investigator to figure out just exactly who had dressed her in these ridiculously printed—unbelievably comfortable—flannel pajamas. Garcia's and JJ's hands were definitely visible in the feat. Emily was eternally grateful—who didn't hate those horrific hospital gowns that were standard in every hospital. And her friends had cared enough to purchase her these pajamas—and dress her in them when she'd been unconscious and unable to protest the print. Emily examined the pajamas again, and decided the little vampires were kind of cute—even if they did greatly resemble Hotch.

She laughed silently at that, wondering how the supervisor would feel about being compared to a mythical monster. Still, with longer canine teeth and a cape, he'd look just like Dracula. She shook her head, trying to shake off the residuals of the dream. Hotch as a vampire—one hell of a dream, that.

And her as his queen? Get real. There wasn't anything like that between the two of them, even in the non-paranormal world. And Emily was alright with that.

Speaking of the devil, or vampire, if she wanted to be hilarious, the man chose that moment to enter Emily's hospital room--followed quickly by the rest of the team, she was happy to see.

"Hello." She said, softly, sitting up and crossing her legs Indian style in the narrow bed. Rossi walked up to her head, shaggy and unshaven. It had been a rough two weeks for all of them. "Dave, someone care to explain just exactly what happened to me?"

"What do you remember?" Morgan asked, reaching over and kissing her on the cheek. As he moved back, he reached a casual hand out and straightened the pajama top that had started to slide off her narrow shoulder. "Gave us quite a scare."

"You really don't want to know the things I remember. Or the things I thought I saw happen." She grinned at him, cheekily, one hand rising unconsciously to scratch a spot on her neck. She'd not missed the red rash covering some of her skin, so she had an inkling of why she was in the hospital. "So when am I getting out of here?"

"Probably in the morning. Now that you're awake." Rossi said, leaning against the window sill and the troll army. "How do you feel?"

"Like I've had one hell of an allergic reaction to something?" Emily hypothesized.

"You don't remember?" Reid asked, then proceeding to bump his foot on the hospital bed, jarring both him and Emily.

"No. The last thing I clearly remember doing is eating dinner at that Mexican place for the eightieth time. After that I'm a bit clouded on details." Emily admitted, readjusting her troll doll. Garcia moved closer, hugging Emily. Emily smiled at the blonde. "Where's Raes?"

"Sent back to where ever she came from." Reid said, heartfelt. "As soon as the arrest was made and final--two days ago."

"I'm glad." Emily said. "So…I have to wait until tomorrow to get out of here? What do I have to do to get out of here a little earlier than that? Hotch?"

Hotch watched her as he spoke. She was pale, hair tangled and wild from sleeping for the past two days. It had taken that long for whatever she'd been hit with to work its way out of her system. The allergic reaction had been pretty bad, and she'd been out for most of that. When she had been awake she'd talked of changelings, and kept wondering where JJ was. So he'd ordered JJ to stay with her.

Her body looked thin and fragile in those ridiculous pajamas, vulnerable. He wasn't used to seeing her vulnerable. It disconcerted him, just like it had in that damned barn, seeing her so defenseless. Emily was never that vulnerable. Never easy prey for some of the world's monsters. Until that damned barn.

"You'll stay here until the morning. It's already late, anyway." Hotch ordered.

She pursed her lips, looking at him with slight irritation. But she didn't protest. Garcia woke JJ and they all visited for a while, until Emily began to look a bit tired. Hotch ordered everyone from the room after they told her good night. Morgan kissed her cheek, Reid bid her an awkward good night, Rossi squeezed her hand. JJ and Garcia both hugged her, Garcia tucking that stuffed troll doll beside the dark-headed woman. Hotch found it slightly endearing that Emily didn't protest, just allowed the toy to share her pillow. She looked…different…dressed in childish pajamas, hair in two braids—Garcia had insisted on combing it before she left—and a toy beside her.

He was the last one to leave the room, turning when she called his name softly. "Hotch?"

"Yes?"

"Thanks." She said. "I should have realized when I saw the mushrooms I needed to get out."

"We had no idea he'd hit you full face." Hotch said. "Next time we see a fungus we'll run the other way."

"We'll do that." Emily said, as Hotch smiled. She narrowed her eyes, looking closely at his face.

"What's wrong?" He asked, frowning at the intensity of her gaze.

"Nothing." She said. "Just thought something was different about you. Probably leftovers from the mushrooms."

He nodded, told her good night.

Emily lay awake for a long time, certain she'd seen a pair of fangs in her supervisor's mouth.

Crazy, she thought. Vampires, werewolves, changelings, and things--they didn't exist. She knew that--didn't she?

Scottish Saying
From ghoulies and ghosties and long leggety beasties and things that go bump in the night, Good Lord, deliver us!

(Ok….so I couldn't resist….this story was probably the most fun to write! Hope you enjoyed.)