"I will never, ever forgive you for this."
Jonathan stared down Jervis's reflection in the mirror in one of his many failed attempts to put the proper fear of god in the little man. His gown-clad partner simply hummed and smiled, brushing the elaborate wig atop Jonathan's head as if tag-team cross-dressing were a common activity between them.
"Ah," said Jervis. "But it will ease your dainty head to know that Oswald went to the trouble of importing these wigs for us all the way from Italy."
"Oswald?" exclaimed Jonathan in horror. "You mean that he knows all about our froufrou foray this year?"
"Calm yourself, dear," sighed Jervis, briefly turning his attention away from Jonathan's wig to check his buckteeth for lipstick stains. "Soon the entire criminal element of Gotham with half a brain and a penchant for partying will know that we have far more class than they could ever acquire."
"I can see the headlines now," groaned Jonathan. "Outlaw Transvestite Couple Jailed for Poor Taste in Drag. Reputation Mangled Beyond Repair." He palmed his face in defeat.
"Jonathan! Your makeup." Jervis inspected his work in the mirror and sighed with relief. "Good. Thank god you didn't ruin it. My Sleepy Hollow maiden just isn't the same when she's neglecting her looks."
"The same for my... wanton Victorian harlot." Jonathan waggled his freshly-plucked eyebrows at Jervis's dolled-up reflection.
"Bite your tongue, fiend!" giggled Jervis, slapping Jonathan playfully on the shoulder. "I will tolerate no nonsense from the likes of you."
"Oh, really?" said Jonathan. "And what are you going to do to prevent any further breaches of conduct?"
"I'm going to teach you a lesson," said Jervis, a very poorly masked purr in his voice. "A punishment, a penalty, whatever you wish to call it. Something I picked up in the brothels."
"Not chlamydia, I hope," muttered Jonathan.
"Heavens no!" exclaimed Jervis in mock shock. "But the more you gab, the less fun I promise you'll have." He placed a soft kiss on Jonathan's cheek, all previous fears of smearing his makeup abandoned. "Don't worry, I'll be through with you before we have to take off for the party."
"And risk being fashionably late?" asked Jonathan. "You should never rush good work."
He may have been content with who he was, but that evening Jonathan speculated that maybe the fairer sex did have more fun.