(All characters involved in sexual/romantic situations are over eighteen years old. Any resemblance to real persons is unintended and coincidental Please note that this story contains some elements of graphic violence against people of all ages, as well as severe medical issues and their unfortunate consequences. Most of the story is relatively happy, light, and hopefully nicely sexy... but not all of it.)
--------------------------------
It was my first Halloween in Cincinnati, and I won't lie -- I was pretty nervous. The Plex Corporation had set me up three months ago with a nice little house on North Cliff Lane, just a few minutes away from the hospital, and it turned out that this quiet little neighborhood was trick-or-treat ground zero. The sun was still out, if barely, and kids were starting to gather in little packs all up and down the street. Technically, trick or treating didn't "officially" start until six PM, half an hour from now, but you could tell these kids were chomping at the bit to get started.
I hadn't really spoken with any of my neighbors yet, so I figured I'd go all-out for the kids this year in an attempt to make a good first impression. In my living room, I had cases of supplies ready to deploy. No "fun-size" tiny morsels, no sir. What did Roland always say? "Go Big Or Go Home!" So I went REAL big. We're talking full-size candy bars, for every kid who came to my door. I had eight or nine different brands to choose from, stuff I would've killed for when I was trick-or-treating as a kid. I had made sure to get some nut-free kinds for kids with allergies, and bags of sugar-free gummi bears for any diabetic kids, just to make sure no one was left out. I'd tried some of those bears -- surprisingly good. Tasted just like the real thing, as far as I could tell.
Between that candy and yard decorations, I'd dropped a huge stack of money that would've horrified me as a poor college student, but now, years later? Between my service wages, generous Striker Reservist pension from the Plex Corporation, licensing/likeness fees, residuals, and some smart work on the part of Cousin Mandy (the smartest and most trustworthy accountant I'd ever met)... money was not an issue. "It's not like I'm going to spend it on hookers and blow," I muttered to myself as I filled a huge metal serving bowl with my giant-sized treats.
My laptop chimed, and I jogged over to hit the connect button. "Hey, sweetie!"
Melissa was still as beautiful as ever, even with her head carefully stabilized as she lay in her hospital bed. "Hey, Harrison. Can you see me okay?"
"Perfect angle, gorgeous. Who's on nurse duty for you tonight?"
"Jonas. He's been a real dear, already washed me and everything. I see you got the front door and foyer cameras set! I can't wait to see what the kids are dressed in."
"I'm even recording the feed, starting now, so if you need to turn in early, you can watch it later whenever you want. Trick or treating starts in..." I checked my ridiculously elaborate wristwatch. "...fifteen minutes."
Melissa gave me a wide but sleepy grin. "You're not greeting the kids like that, are you?"
I looked down at myself. A red golf shirt, black dockers, a nice leather belt, and comfortable running shoes -- a pretty typical outfit for me. "What, is there a stain on my shirt or something?"
"Harrison Michael Halloway, you utterly ridiculous goof! It's Halloween! You're telling me you tricked out the lawn with all those spooky little statues and lights, bought a bazillion giant candy bars, and you didn't spend a dime on a costume? Come on!" She stuck her tongue out at me and winked.
I gestured down at myself. "Oh come on. No one cares what the adults wear. As long as I'm not opening the door in my boxers, it's all good."
"Well, I care." She waggled her eyebrows at me. "If you really loved me, you'd wear your old Striker gear."
In the corner of my laptop, I could see my own eyebrows try to leap right off my head. "Where did that come from? C'mon, hon. Last thing I want to do is dredge up bad memories for you."
She clenched her jaw. If she could have, she would've been shaking her head and wagging a finger at me like old times, but nowadays, a stern look was the best she could manage. "It won't. If it wasn't for our making it into the Strike Force together, we never would have met -- and I don't want to hear another word. Besides. I love how your ass looks in that suit. Come on. Change for me. I want to see it again."
"You're serious."
"Serious as anything. You're my dashing hero, and I miss seeing you dress like one. And besides -- the kids will LOVE it."
I sighed in defeat. "Okay, fine. But only because you asked nicely." I stepped back, and brought up the wrist that held my Striker-Changer watch. "Voice Code! Halloway, Seven-Five-Alpha!"
The once-dormant appliance roared to life, the old familiar deep-voiced computer responding as always. "CONFIRMED. STRIKER-CHANGE, PRIMED."
I slid my finger across the smart-glass surface, providing the fingerprint key. "Striker-Change...GO!" I threw my arms out wide, and braced for impact.
***
SIX YEARS AGO
"STRIKER HALLOWAY! STAND AT ATTENTION!" Sandow's gravelly voice was an angry roar, glaring at me as he held up the weirdest-looking watch I'd ever even heard of. "Watch closely, Strikers, because what I'm about to tell you all could keep you all from killing yourselves on your first day in the field! Put this on, Halloway. You're first."
I noticed Takeshi rolling his eyes. "Like always," he muttered. I managed to ignore it. Nothing I did would ever convince him that I wasn't some suck-up "Teacher's Pet", he'd made that very clear these last few months. It used to really bother me, but now... I had bigger things to worry about.
Mister Sandow had also ceased to give a rat's ass about Takeshi's issues. "Shut it, Striker Wakamoto. Halloway beat you into the ground fair and square in the tournament last month, so wash that bitter bullshit out of your mouth, or I'll do it for you. With bleach." He turned back to me with an impatient look, and I slipped the device onto my left forearm.
"When you activate this, whatever you're wearing is going to get automatically converted into a unitard, thanks to the fun little miracle of dimensional nano-printing. However, the armored costume will gate in as unattached sections a few centimeters away from you, and then converge at speed, so stand ready when it hits. It might seem like it takes a few seconds for the armor to link up and fully activate because you're in the midst of that dimensional storm, but it's practically instantaneous. Good thing too, otherwise you'd be a sitting duck mid-transformation."
I stood back, activated it -- and got blown halfway across the room. I found myself crumpled against a bank of lockers, a pile of unassembled armor pieces lying around me, dissolving into the air back into nano-matter because of the failed link-up... and Takeshi was laughing his ass off.
"Awww, did the teacher's pet fuck up in front of everyone? Should've braced yourself, just like Sandow said. Okay, gimme mine, I'll show you all how it's done."
