Work Text:
At eight in the evening on Halloween, Charles went into the kitchen, only to find it dark. As he turned the light on, something jumped out in front of him.
“Boo!” The something yelled in a deep, booming voice.
Charles jumped violently, stumbling backwards as he stared at the figure, which looked like Frankenstein’s Monster. Except... as he stood there, his rational brain came back to him, and he sighed.
“Is that you, Sheridan?” He asked wearily.
The monster laughed and took off his face mask. Sheridan, his face flushed and sweaty, grinned at Charles.
“Got you, Charles!” He said, grinning delightedly.
Charles raised his eyebrows. “Yes, I suppose you did.”
---
Later that night, Charles went into the bathroom, and was just about to start brushing his teeth when—
“Boo!” Sheridan yelled as he jumped out from behind the door.
Charles jumped again, his heart racing.
“Ha, ha, got you again!” Sheridan said, laughing.
“Ha, ha,” Charles said sarcastically.
---
The next morning, Charles hoped the Halloween themed jump scares would have stopped. Unfortunately, he was wrong.
“Boo!” Sheridan yelled as Charles went into the living room, appearing from behind the sofa.
Charles jumped out of his skin, and then sighed. He watched Sheridan laugh, wondering why he found this so amusing.
---
“Sheridan, we need to leave! Where are you?” Charles shouted up the stairs.
He opened the cupboard to look for his coat, and—
“Boo!”
“Sheridan,” Charles whined, really not in the mood by now.
“It’s only a bit of fun, Charles,” Sheridan said, seemingly oblivious to how annoyed Charles was.
Charles grabbed his coat and walked away. By the time he was out of the front door, he knew what he needed to do. It was time to get revenge.
---
Charles held his breath as he heard Sheridan come into the room, not wanting to give his hiding place away. He would have never thought he would one day be hiding in a cupboard and getting ready to scare Sheridan, but here he was.
He heard Sheridan get closer, and, on the count of three, pushed the door opened and yelled, “Boo!”
Sheridan shrieked and stumbled backwards into the wall, his eyes wide with fear. But, when he realised it was only Charles, he sighed and rubbed his face, clearly trying to calm himself down.
“That wasn’t funny, Charles,” he said weakly.
“But, why, Sheri?” Charles said, a smug smile crossing his face. “After all, it was only a bit of fun.”
---
“I’m sorry, Charles.”
Later that night, in bed, Charles was torn from reading a fascinating article in The Lancet when he heard Sheridan speak. He turned his head and saw Sheridan looking at him, a nervous expression on his face.
“Pardon?”
“I said I’m sorry, Charles,” Sheridan said. “I wouldn’t have kept scaring you if I knew you didn’t like it.”
Charles sighed. “Thank you, Sheri. It was all right at first, but it became a tad repetitive.”
Sheridan smiled, but looked so pathetic that Charles sighed again.
“Would you like a hug?”
“Yes please,” Sheridan said, smiling properly this time.
Charles put his arm around Sheridan, and he leaned against him, resting his head on Charles’s shoulder. Charles smiled, hoping he had gotten through to Sheridan.