'It's fun to stay at the YMCA…' Nick sung gleefully as he twirled in front of his large mirror.
He paused momentarily to laugh at his reflection. Sara had been right. His outfit was one hundred percent corny but he couldn't care less. He had spent the last twenty minutes polishing his boots to perfection and the shine on them could be seen a mile away.
Nick was proud of his Texan roots and unbeknown to the others he actually did already have this costume tucked away in the dark recesses of his closet. His eyes never leaving the glass, he placed two toy pistols into each pocket of his belt and slightly adjusted his brown cowboy hat.
'Howdy there little darlin'.' He said aloud using a heavier version of his native accent.
'Pray for mercy.' Warrick said grinning manically.
He swished his black cape in front of his face for dramatic effect. He was most definitely feeling this costume. The idea had come from one of the kids at the local community centre where he regularly volunteered. It had only taken one question to get them shouting a variety of interesting suggestions.
'Who's the coolest person in the world?' Warrick asked the eager little faces sitting before him.
After dismissing the most ridiculous suggestions such as Barney and Buffy the Vampire slayer. He settled on a toss up between a few good movie heroes. In the end it was the masked crusader for justice with the Latino edge who most excited his imagination. So tonight he would unleash the sultry and seductive charms of Zorro on the unwitting female population.
'Buenos tardis, senorita.' He softly purred.
'And hand to hand is holy palmers kiss.' Sara voiced while sighing gently.
She wondered why she bothered at all. The only entertainment that night would come from the infantile costume selections of her male workmates- bar one of course. What would Grissom really wear? Sara had chosen her own costume in the hopes that it was so unoriginal that nobody else would have considered it.
But still it was strange to be dressed this way. Suddenly so very feminine. The long gown had a corset beneath it which was fitted so tightly that it made talking -and moreover breathing- very difficult. It was a dark burgundy colour which she had set off with some plum lipstick Catherine had bought her for Christmas, knowing full well she'd probably never wear it. Well jokes on you Willows. Sara thought momentarily until she remembered that she was one standing there with the wedding style hairdo and black ballet slippers.
'Never was there a story of more woe, than that of Juliet and her poor Romeo.' She whispered in defeat.
'I am Catwoman…hear me roar. Meow.' Catherine swiped playfully at the mirror with her false claws on display.
She couldn't have picked a more suitable costume considering that tonight she would have to be sly, manipulative and decidedly sneaky if she was to succeed in her plans.
She studied the black, all in one suit she wore. It was a little risqué for the ball, she thought, but nothing compared to what she used to wear in her dancing days. As she flicked her tail from side to side she decided the costume was well worth it, if only to see her colleagues' reactions. And it did make her feel damn sexy.
After placing the feline ears atop her head, she used one of Lindsey's face paints to apply her whiskers.
I just may need to use all of my nine lives tonight if my plans go wrong. She mused as she practiced her sweetest grin and put the finishing touches to the lines on her face.
'To die for...' She exclaimed purring satisfactorily.
'Watch out ladies, here comes the greatest lover of them all.' Greg crooned as he swaggered around his apartment dressed as the man he admired most of all.
There wasn't a trace of liquid latex in sight and he wasn't wearing the signature clothing of some tragic rock star from years gone by. No, Greg had decided that for one night only, the ladies of Las Vegas would be treated to the devastating charms of Casanova himself.
There had been no thought required when Catherine had told them about the costume party. He knew immediately that Casanova was the way to go seeing as he shared so many personality traits with the famous Italian lover. The charisma, the wit, the intelligence-all were features Greg identified with.
He buttoned up his powder blue waistcoat before straightening the high collar of his shirt. The excess of frills spilling down the front of his shirt were bound to get a few laughs from the likes of Nick and Warrick, but he didn't care. It wouldn't be the first time they'd shared a joke at his expense.
He completed the look with a tri corner hat which he theatrically flipped onto his head before taking one last look in the mirror.
'Who could resist this?' He asked his reflection, who simply responded with a proud shrug.
'But, soft! What light through yonder window breaks? It is the east and Juliet is the sun.' Grissom began to recite while fixing a glace at his ensemble.
How do I get myself into these situations? He wondered glancing uncomfortably at his recently rented wear. He thought that going as a great literary character was an excellent idea until he actually put the costume on.
Standing in all its historic glory, he realized how foolish he looked and more to the point, felt. And he knew he would likely stand out against all the costumes from countless TV shows he'd never even heard of.
He cast a critical eye over his extravagant shirt, knowing it was too late to tell Catherine he couldn't make it. He would have to brave the onslaught of questions about his identity that he was bound to be asked.
The only detail of his costume that he was fond of was the deep red waistcoat that reminded him of the sunrise. He had been compelled to select it, despite the array of colours on offer, for its significance to the story.
'Alas.'He spoke wistfully. 'I love for sure, my mind is set. But I don't have my Juliet.'
TBC