Why do we do it? Every year we get to the night of a special occasion and decide we should have written a fic...despite neglecting most of the rest of our collection. Doh!

Anyway, here is this year's Halloween offering. Enjoy ;)

Set sometime during Series 9, but to be taken with a pinch of...well, a pinch of sugar, actually, seeing as it's fluff. If you want happy fun, you have to excuse a few liberties with the plot!

Disclaimer: we don't own Spooks. If we did, Ruth's wardrobe might have been overhauled in this direction a while back...kidding!

For Tiina x

It was an utterly, utterly ridiculous thought. In fact, it was beyond that. It was certifiable and worthy of Tring.

This was the man who she had turned down, kept at arms length. This was the man she had refused to let love her.

However, this was also the man who, even though blissfully unaware, frequently woke her in the dead of the night, who left her sweaty and breathless. This was the man who she desperately wanted to admit she was wrong to.

This was the man, who, now that Ruth had consumed an overly large glass of wine and mulled over the notion for several hours, was going to receive the treat of his life this Halloween.

…

Earlier that week:

It had all started on Friday, in fact, on the way to work. Having finished her latest book earlier in the week, and short of something to read on the tube to work, she had grabbed one of Beth's magazines and stuffed it into her handbag without a second thought.

Halloween for Grown Ups shouted an orange and black title, as she'd taken a seat and opened it up. A woman covered by nothing more than a strategically arranged cobweb of black leather winked out of the page and a topless man in devil horns poked his head out of the corner below a paragraph of text.

She hadn't even intended to read it; after all, she hated Halloween. She certainly hadn't intended to end up taking anything on board. And she definitely didn't think that she'd end up being plagued by suggestion #4 for the rest of the working day and beyond.

4) Why not play a little 'Trick or Treat?' of your own? Give your special someone a Halloween to remember with a wicked costume. Put on your thickest winter coat, ring on their doorbell unannounced, with a flash of your winning smile and more besides, then show them exactly what a sinful time they can have.

Oh God. That was it. She was done for. Her thoughts had been very much on the wrong track for the entirety of morning briefing, as she imagined herself in a variety of costumes, mentally dressed (or rather half-dressed) Harry as the chisel-torso devil-man from the magazine, and conjured up imagined responses to her turning up at his door.

Still, she had thought, a little fantasy had never hurt anyone.

…

Earlier that day:

Well, that might have been true. Fantasy had, indeed, rarely hurt anyone. Indeed, she lived in a fantasy world a great deal of the time. However, when faced with the prospect of seriously acting on it, despite all her better judgement, the prospect became a little scary.

The truth was, she just hadn't been able to shake the notion of turning up on his doorstep and letting him know in no uncertain terms how much she regretted her coldness toward him. Words, although technically a forte of hers, with the many languages she spoke, never did seem to work for her where Harry was concerned and the more she'd tossed and turned on Friday and Saturday night, the more she'd considered that action might be better. Certainly in her dreams, it definitely had proved a successful course of action.

And so, at half past three that afternoon, she had dashed madly through groups of shoppers so that she could scrabble through the high street in order to throw together something vaguely resembling a sexy Halloween outfit.

And sod it, it had been difficult. Everything had either been too gimmicky, or too plastic, or too tacky or too…crotchless. She'd felt a hot blush rise in her face as a close inspection of an Ann Summers window display revealed far more than…well, far more than she'd ever reveal in a Halloween costume, anyway!

She had glanced at her watch again at ten to four. Frantic mothers were dragging moaning children, life-sized skeletons and pumpkins along behind them and doorways watched over by motion-sensitive figurines seemed to cackle or moan every time someone passed. With a panic, she had realised she had ten minutes until closing time and no costume had grabbed her attention.

Unless…? Yes! She had practically ran out of the very depleted costume shop and galloped down the high street to the lingerie shop at the very end. Lord help her, but she had suddenly figured out exactly what she was going to wear. All she needed was the courage to actually put it on and go round.

…

Present:

Courage, it seemed, was a lot more abundant at the bottom of a wineglass than she'd ever realised. Putting down the empty receptacle, she sucked in a deep breath, grabbed the carrier bag from the side of the sofa and headed upstairs. It was half past five, and if she was going to do this, then it needed to be now. Preferably before the night grew too old, and definitely before the Dutch courage wore off.

Once upstairs and having showered and dried, Ruth carefully took the time to curl her hair, piling it high at the back of her head so that it cascaded downwards. Then, with great care and attention, she applied her usual foundation and blush and turned her attention to the detail around the eyes and lips; smoky grey shadow, rimmed around the eyes, black liner and slick black mascara; vampish red lipstick, lined to make the most of her cupid's bow.

And then, of course, she turned her attention to her costume. The red and black satin and lace basque hugged tightly to her figure in all the right places and accentuated her cleavage without actually putting too much of it on display. Happy with her purchase and how she looked in it she reached for the nylon stockings and eased herself into them. She couldn't help but wonder how they might later be removed and found herself fumbling with the fastenings on her suspender belt as her mind strayed into decidedly wicked territory. Would he appreciate them, she wondered, run his fingertips over the length of her leg and graze the top of her thigh with warm hands? She certainly hoped so.

More to come, but only if you're good and review :)

Oh...and there may be firework fic next week too if we can manage it.

xx