"This is the worst plan ever to be formed in this Age." Legolas said, with great conviction, looking at the contents of the duffle bag in the trunk. They were parked in a dark alley across the street from the club, getting ready for their sting.
"Look, it was the only way I could think of to get in. They don't let grumpy-arse Dwarves and Elves that are obviously cops into that place…" Gimli argued, pulling out the dry cleaning bag that had his suit in it. It was his best suit. He wore it to funerals, weddings and coronations, and he figured if he rolled up the sleeves to his elbows, undid too many buttons on the shirt and wore two gold chains, he'd look like a big spender. He'd also gone to the trouble of diffusing his curls and putting golden toggles in his moustache before the stake-out. The Elf hadn't even noticed.
"And you think they'll be more amenable to a… transvestite?" Legolas raised an eyebrow. Before him were a set of women's clothes, a make-up kit and some bits and pieces of things he didn't recognize.
"They won't think you're a transvestite when we're finished making you over. You'll look good," Gimli shrugged, "I don't know how you do as an Elf, but as a human woman, you're an eight."
"I really think we should just go in as we are."
"Right. And they'll let us in because they know we're the law, and everything will be on the level and everyone will be cooperative, but we won't get anywhere near Saruman's phone – or if we do, they'll burn it right away and get him a new one." Gimli hid behind the side of the car and started to get changed, "But they'll let in anyone, even a mean-looking and ugly little arsehole like me, if they look like they're on business. So. I am an entrepreneur of dubious morality, and you are my human lady friend."
"And why didn't you ask Agent Dernhelm to help us with this?" Legolas shook his head, aghast.
"I did ask. She gave me her sexiest clothes for you to wear." Gimli shrugged, "Our paperwork says that we're allowed to assist the EBI in tapping Saruman of Many Color's personal telephone lines. That could blow up in our faces in court if we don't make sure that the EBI does as much of this as possible, and out here the EBI means you. Look, laddie, I know you think that this is me hazing you or something, but it was genuinely the best idea I could come up with. I don't find this shit funny. After this is all done, we're going to make a solemn oath never to speak of this night to anyone. And I for one will be doing my level best to burn it out of my memory with alcohol."
Legolas ran his hands over his face and through his hair. There was really no place for argument. It was his fault for trusting Gimli to come up with their infiltration plan, and now he had no choice but to go through with it. He'd never thought that there would be a time when he'd miss storming into a place with Elrohir and accidentally destroying half the evidence, but that seemed like happy nostalgia to him now that he was faced with undercover work.
"Fine," he sighed.
"Good. Start with the hair and make-up, I suppose. I can help if you want."
"No. Don't help."
Legolas applied lipstick and eyeshadow in the way he'd seen human women wear it for an evening look. Inwardly, he cringed at the textures of the powders and creams as he put them on. He knew that Elven women had their own beauty secrets, but they were better at keeping them… secret. When he was finished with his face, and his features looked strangely like his own but strangely like someone else's, he undid his braids so that he could cover the tops of his ears with his hair.
"That's no good," Gimli shook his head, "It's too smooth. Only Elves have hair like that. Here." He handed Legolas a canister of hairspray from the duffle bag, "Spray it all in, then scrunch your hair up."
Legolas flipped his head over and sprayed along the bottom of his scalp. Then he grabbed handfuls of his hair and bunched them into curls.
"Scrunchier!" Gimli ordered, "You're not scrunching hard enough. Let me do it."
"No thank you, I've got it!" Legolas snapped, "I don't want it to look like a rat's nest. It just has to be textured." He continued to scrunch.
When he finished, his hair had made a miraculous transformation from pristine Elven elegance, to slightly tacky beach waves.
"Alright," Gimli nodded, going to the trunk and pulling out a pair of scissors, "Come over here and kneel down."
"What? No!" Legolas stepped back, "What for?"
"I've got to give you a fringe. Human women always have a fringe." He snipped the scissors in the air a couple of times.
"No they don't," Legolas shook his head emphatically, "I've seen lots who don't have fringes."
"Don't be a baby. It'll just be a few snips, and it'll all grow back. Given time."
"No. I'm going along with your dreadful plan that makes me look and feel like a fool. I am wearing this disguise and I am going to do my best to live up to this disguise, but you are not cutting my hair and that is final. Now hand me that skirt."
When Legolas was finished dressing, he looked at his reflection in the car window and made a disappointed little noise.
"She said they were her raciest party clothes," Gimli explained, "and now I'm sad about Agent Dernhelm's social life."
"This won't work." Legolas shook his head, "Give me the scissors."
"You can't cut those up! They don't belong to us!"
"I'll buy her a new… sensible pencil skirt. Look, I've come this far. If the clothes don't work, then none of it works. Give me the scissors."
A few well-placed snips later, and the pair was ready to go. Legolas gathered every ounce of remaining dignity he possessed, and began walking towards the entrance.
"Walk sexier!" Gimli whispered out of the corner of his mouth.
Legolas made an attempt at following the instruction.
"I said 'walk sexier', not 'frolic down the pavement!'"
"How is a walk supposed to be sexually provocative?" He hissed back.
Gimli gave him a strange look, and then shook his head.
"Well. Now it's not just Agent Dernhelm's social life that I'm sad about."
When they got to the door, Gimli stood there and looked at the bouncer with an expression of expectation and disdain. The Orc looked them up and down, then nodded and unclipped the velvet rope.
He winked at Legolas as they went inside.