"It throws me for a loop every time. You always ask the least expected questions ever, which I suppose is a good way to make sure people are paying attention." Conversations were never boring when Rae was involved, and Elliot considered that to be one of his favorite things about her. He snorted when she said she wanted to see his tattoo. "In the spring. Maybe. When it's warmer." Finding a tattoo artist in this mass of people would be a challenge, especially if he were completely sure that Rae wasn't joking. Maybe, if luck was on his side, that could be his Christmas present to her. Locating a tattoo artist, convincing said artist that a tattoo was necessary. Yeah, that was pretty much wishful thinking there.
Elliot rolls his eyes and shook his head. "If we're talking Robin Hood? Then definitely not. I wouldn't make a very good thief, even if I did give to the poor." He chuckled at her mini Renaissance act, and raised his eyebrows when she suggested a '50s theme. "You could pull off any look, really. But me? I don't think I could pull off the Elvis look. All my best costumes centered around clever props and masks."
For Elliot, he had no expectations. The hug was nice and unexpected at it made him smile, but that was really all he let himself think (and feel) about it. Rae was his friend, and friends — female friends especially — were prone to hugging. It wouldn't be fair of him to assume more than was appropriate. True, Rae had said she considered him one of her favorite people, but she was out saving the world from the undead. Neither of them had time for anything else.
"Haunted hayrides," was his instant response to Rae's question. Glancing down, he let out a laugh. Way to make it sound like he'd been thinking nothing but sad memories. Which he hadn't, honestly, but now that she'd brought up the question of childhood Halloween traditions, Elliot couldn't stop picturing himself and his brother venturing out into the night, empty bags waiting to be filled with candy, and the best part of the whole adventure waiting for them at the end. "With David. Every year — and every night during the last week leading up until Halloween — we'd go up to this farm just outside Bellevue. The guy who owned it always claimed the land and the surrounding woods were haunted. A lot of people truly believed him, including my brother." He smiled, somewhat sadly, at the memory. "He was the believer. Me? I just thought it was fun..."