This is a piece of fluff I wrote today in 'honor' of the holiday (Halloween 2009, for historical records), for the weekend writing prompt at Watson's Woes. The prompt was 'costume'. I don't know if this plot bunny has been done before, but honestly I had so much fun writing it that I couldn't help myself. Enjoy!


Watson shook his head in wonder. "It's uncanny, Holmes."

"Then it's good?"

Watson chuckled softly. "It was enough to make me look twice when you walked in the room. By jove..."

Holmes also chuckled, and Watson jumped.

"Blazes, Holmes! I'm not safe anywhere with you around!" He gestured to his clothing. "I'm afraid I can't do nearly half as well."

Holmes ran an appraising eye over the costume. "It will do well enough. Although you're wearing the hat too far back. Pull it down a little."

"Like this?"

"No... like this." Holmes reached up an impatient hand and pulled the brim of the hat lower over Watson's eyes.

"Holmes, how exactly am I supposed to see with this thing?"

Holmes smiled, amused, fortunately just far enough away that the hat on Watson's head prevented the smile from being seen. "I believe, Watson, the idea was to be a few inches taller, and then look down on the rest of the world."

Watson snorted. "Oh, fine enough for you to say that! I am not short!"

"No... just marginally lacking in height." Holmes chuckled again, causing Watson to jerk once more.

"Holmes, for goodness' sake, stop doing that until we get there!"

The chuckling subsided. "Now, let me see you walk. To your desk and back."

"If I can do so without tripping on this confounded coat!" Watson grumbled.

"Just do it."

Watson did as commanded, stopping at the desk to turn on his heel and come back. "Well?"

"My dear fellow, you'll do admirably. Now, let us be off!"

"Oh, but Holmes, what about...?"

Holmes sighed, stopping in the doorway and fishing something out of his pocket. "If you insist. But don't put it in the same pocket as your wallet and DON'T DROP IT."

Watson, much to Holmes's consternation, started laughing. "Honestly, if you could see yourself sometimes! Since when have I ever dropped anything belonging to The Great Sherlock Holmes? Unlike what you did with my revolver..."

"Watson, that was an important experiment!" Holmes snapped. "Now can we please go and DON'T tread on the hem, if you please."

He turned and leaped down the stairs, ignoring the grumbling behind his back, sounding vaguely like, "The idea was to be a few inches taller... oh, now that is brilliant, Holmes..."

"And you're sure Mr. Holmes said he would come?"

"Yes, he and the doctor both," Lestrade assured his wife. "I know at least one of them would have sent a note if they weren't coming. Comfort yourself, my dear. I'm sure they're just late."

Mrs. Lestrade sighed. "Very well, if you insist, love." She turned and wandered off to chat with one of the other inspector's wives.

Lestrade tapped his foot impatiently on the floor as soon as his wife was far enough away not to notice. He knew how much work she put into this gathering every year, and how much she hoped that it would be a success. Year after year she had asked him to invite Mr. Holmes and the doctor, only to have the invitation turned down. This was the first year that they had accepted. Now, if only everything went right and they actually showed up…

He broke off his thoughts abruptly as two persons were shown in to the gathering. Even from across the room, Lestrade caught sight of an all-too-familiar deerstalker, and his heart sank. He strode over to them before his wife could notice, his disappointment quickly turning to irritation.

"Mr. Holmes!" he said. "You were supposed to come in costume! You can't just show up in…"

Wait. His subconscious was screaming that something was not right about this.

Since when was the doctor taller than Mr. Holmes? And for another thing…

The doctor's moustache twitched in a way that it had never done before, and the face underneath the deerstalker grinned back at him with a very familiar smile, made unfamiliar by the conspicuous lack of facial hair above it. At his astounded face they both chuckled in the exact same manner.

Lestrade took a step backwards. "You did not!"

Neither of them could restrain their laughter any longer.

"I'm afraid we couldn't help ourselves," Watson said, removing the deerstalker from his head and wiping the tears of mirth from his eyes. "Although I'm already missing my moustache." He reached up and stroked the smooth area above his lip.

"I don't know if I would have recognized you if I had just seen you without it," Lestrade admitted. "And as for you, Mr. Holmes…."

Holmes pressed his lips together so that the fake moustache bristled, a perfect mimic of the way the doctor always did it.

"…I think you could have gotten away with being the doctor for quite a while," he admitted.

Watson shook his head gravely. "Uncanny, Holmes, like I said. I hope you don't make it a regular practice, or I shall never sleep easy again."

Holmes's chuckle accompanied his role, earning him a glare from the doctor, but Lestrade only laughed again.

"I have to show you two to my wife. She'll be delighted."