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Thank you to knittingfynatic, Betafishy for dealing with my horrific grammar and spelling errors. I heart your big red pen, and 30pt commas.

To: Grendelsmother, MzEllq, feistyyoungbeden and all the peeps on Ravelry's Unicorns Unlimited. I heart you hard... Thanks for listening to me, dealing with me, and loving the story. Hope I don't disappoint.

You know the drill, I don't own anything in the Twilight Universe except for a spot on the crazy train to fanville. Stops in Chicago, Phoenix, and Forks.

2 Black Garment Bags & Grey Conversations

BLACK.
Positive: Sophistication, glamour, security, emotional safety, efficiency, substance.

GREY
Negative: Lack of confidence, dampness, depression, hibernation, lack of energy.

The stage was dark; colored lights were pointed out and swinging around, shining bright blue, green, and pink all over the audience. Their hands were in the air waving along with the beat. Finishing my set, I waved, took my bow, and walked off the stage, when suddenly I was hit hard by something that felt like a sandbag and I collapsed onto the floor. I gasped for air as I took in the sight of a large Ziploc bag, covered in horribly cryptic black Sharpie handwriting and full of chocolate chip cookies that felt as if they were made of lead, crushing my chest. I fought to get the bag off me, only to feel it suffocating me, weighing me down further. I started to freak out and clawed and bit my way out only to wake up on my bedroom floor, covered in feathers. God fucking damn it....

Clearing away my sleepy haze, I pulled myself off the floor and gathered up the chunks of my now-destroyed pillow and threw them into the large trashcan in my bathroom.

I ran my hand through the sweaty matted mop that was my hair, picking out a random white down feather, and dragged myself into the bathroom. I felt like ass, but everything would be so much better with a shower. I had so much to do today and the total exhaustion caused by that fucked-up dream was not going to help.

I showered quickly and got dressed in black pants, a gray tee-shirt, and a black-and-white flannel shirt that I left unbuttoned. I shook the remaining water out of my hair and threw on my shoes, and looked to the clock next to my bed. I was due to meet Jasper in an hour and a half, so I sat loaded up iTunes on my MacBook and messed around awhile. I ended up syncing two newly purchased albums onto my iPod before it was time to leave.

That always happened when I shopped, online or in the real world: I'd go in just to look around and end up walking out with half the store. I quickly shut down the computer, walked down to the kitchen, and started the coffee maker. Emmett was sitting there eating a serving bowl full of Cap'n Crunch cereal. I hated the smell of that foul cereal and made a face at him.

"So, Mr. McCarty, ready for our little adventure tonight?" I asked, fishing a banana off the counter, and noticed Emmett's complete blank look. "The Unicorn?"

He scowled at me. "Fucking pussy bar," he said with a mouth full of bright yellow cereal.

"Yes, but the odds are in your favor," I replied, running a hand through my hair. How in the world could this man turn on all the charm in the world and secure his own invite to one of the prime parties in Seattle one minute, but look at it like the plague in the next?

"Only tail going to be there are the princess bitches who demand a pink drink and a shit load of shopping sprees."
"Right up your ally, isn't it?" I quipped in return.

His look in response said it all. He fell silent and I watched a bit as his internal monologue clicked along. I moved over, chucked the banana peel into the garbage, and washed my and Jasper's mugs, knowing he would be home from work soon. Hopefully I could get the three of us out to the costume shop today to pick out costumes. The pickings were going to be slim since our invite was sweet-talked only two days ago.

"Tired of that shit, Eddie. I'm done with empty-headed chicks throwing themselves at me, only wanting me 'cause I bring in major bank."

"Or for your ass."

"Or for my exceptionally fine ass. I just can't take it anymore."

"So... you're not gonna hook up tonight?"

"Fuck, I don't even know if I want to go."

"Come on, you promised Rose you would be there. It's gonna be kinda heavy on the girls."

"Fuck." His tone dripped with total exasperation. "Fine. Whatever."

"Great. So, will you come with us?"

"What?"

"Jasper, me, you, costume shop?"

"Fuck." The memory of Rose calling after him, telling him it was a costume party, had apparently just resurfaced.

"Come on, Rose said that you could come. You get to have drinks for free since you're with me. We just have to dress up in costumes from storybooks."

"FUCKING HELL, CULLEN!!" He stood, the bar stool he'd been sitting on clattering to the ground hard behind him.

"Knock it off, McCarty!" My voice hit hard and dark. Busting up my shit was one of my pet peeves. Emmett was a damn bull in a china shop sometimes, and it I swear he did it just to bust my balls. He quickly picked up the stool and gently put it down, sitting down and sulking for a few moments. I returned to fixing coffee and I heard Emmett chuckle behind me. I looked over my shoulder to see what his deal was. He had a mouth full of food and a crooked grin.

"So which one of you is going as Snow White? Or are you skipping that shit and going as a giant vagina?"

I about spit coffee all over the sink at his comment. "I'm not sure there is a storybook with a big vagina in it," I replied, quickly regaining composure before he noticed anything was off.

"I can name some..."
"I'm sure you could. Listen, just come with us tonight, okay? It wouldn't be a real party without THE EMMETT MCCARTY, after all." Stroking his ego wouldn't hurt; I knew what buttons to push to make the great one fall.

"Fine. I think I've got something around."

What the hell did that mean? "I don't think I want to even ask."

"You know me, Cullen. Always got some kinky shit around, right?"

I think I just vomited in my mouth a little. "Yeah, I'm definitely not asking."

I watched as Emmett drank the half a gallon of milk that he poured into the serving bowl before he put the bowl in the sink, giving a little half salute as he turned on his heel and headed for the stairs. I shook my head and was putting his bowl in the dishwasher when Jasper's bike came around the corner and into the drive. I heard the Duc shut down with a throttled purr.

"Hey, Jasper," I greeted as he entered the kitchen, looking especially beat down from his day as an orderly at the local psychiatric treatment facility. I handed him an empty cup, knowing that he had to fix his cup up all pussy-like. Fuck if I knew why anyone would mess with a good cup of coffee with sugar and milk and shit.

"How're things?" I asked.

"Nurse Ratched and I had a McMurphy today..." The nurses he works with are all named Nurse Ratched. Most would expect that because he worked in what was popularly known as a "loony bin", he wouldn't be able to discuss his job, but Jasper had worked out a system: he could talk about anything as long as he referenced characters from One Flew Over the Cuckoo's Nest. Code words like 'Ratched' for whatever nurse he had worked with that day, and 'McMurphy' for a patient who died, allowed him to vent without compromising anyone's confidentiality.

"Shit, I'm sorry, Jazz." First my creepy ass dream putting me in a bad mood, now Jasper and his dead patient. We were going to be a load of fun tonight.

"Yeah..." He scrubbed at his exhausted-looking face, letting out an aggravated grumble. "Let's just get out of here. I need to go do something fun to take my mind off of it all. Is Emmett coming?"

"Nope," I replied as I placed the cup of coffee in the sink. "He apparently already 'has something'." Jasper looked at me, the look on his face an entertaining cross between "Oh my God, he's going to show up naked" and "Could I get away with running a psychological screening on the unlucky people who see him?". I had to head that off at the pass. "And no, I think Ms. Hale would hang his testicles from the bar if he did that."

Jasper snorted as he poured his java into a travel mug and walked out to the driveway and towards the Volvo.

We drove down to Red Light Vintage Clothing, a great little hole-in-the-wall where I knew we'd be able to find something for the party and started to look around. Pictures and articles of clothing were packed to the rafters in the store. Before I knew it Jasper had jumped out from one of the racks dressed head-to-toe in a cowboy outfit, complete with hat, poncho, and chaps.

"Nice, Jasper. What storybook does that come from?"

"Um..."

"Yeah. Next!"

I watched him slink back into the rows of costumes and went to find one for myself. I kept repeating the word "storybook" as I slid hanger after hanger, stupid nylon costume after nylon costume, along the racks. Red Light had several cheap costumes, but they also had several costumes worthy of a Hollywood sound stage. Several of the local playhouses used them to outfit cast members. I had an ex who'd been a drama major, and she'd adored costume fitting days. All the dress-up, none of the spending her own cash. Too bad she'd had to be a total bitch and decided that one boyfriend just wasn't enough, and I was using "friend" as a loose term. Nothing like finding a freshmen boy on his knees, face first in between the legs of your girlfriend of three years, the week of senior midterms.

I quickly shook off the memory and dove into the racks. I grabbed a few things and as I turned to go into the dressing room, I saw something that I knew I had to at least try on, if only for Jasper's sake.

"HEY, JASPER!" I bellowed out of the small dressing room. I adjusted my tie and tried to fix my hair as best I could.

"Where the hell are you?" I could hear him getting closer. I quickly grabbed the prop that came with the costume and jumped out into the hall.

"Expelliarmus!!!" I yelled loudly as I jumped in front of the Texan. He jumped about fourteen feet in the air and fell straight on his ass as I pointed the plastic stick that the costumers had labeled a wand. I stood in front of my friend in an English boarding-school uniform: black slacks, gray sweater with yellow-and-black trim, a gold-and-black tie, and a white shirt. The long black robe with gold lining flew around me.

"OH MY FUCKING GOD!" Jasper wheezed, gasping in hysterics, as he pointed at me from the floor. "YOU'RE DOUCHEBAG PRETTY-BOY!"

I laughed at myself. This was an ongoing joke that happened when that stupid wizard movie showed up. I'd gotten ridiculed for MONTHS because I happened to look like one of the actors; I hated being compared to the guy, so of course, Emmett had control of the remote the night the movie was on TV, and it was all he could do to keep a straight face. He kept pointing to the screen and laughing hysterically. Asshole.

I though Jasper was going to pee himself. His face was tomato-red from laughter.

Before the teasing started to get out of hand, I quickly knelt down and grasped Jasper's hand.

"You only get one," I said, as I helped him up and turned to change. "You showed up, so you get the prize of laughing your ass off at my expense, for free."

"Wait, Wait! You're not going to wear that, are you?!"
"HELL NO! Emmett just forgot about that stupid movie last week... Last thing I need is him giving me shit 'til St. Patrick's Day!"

Jasper just stood there and continued laughing as I walked back to the dressing room and tried on the other costume that I'd picked out for real. It was from a favorite movie of mine that I'd loved since I was a kid. Ever since I'd found out Andre the Giant was in it, I'd secretly loved The Princess Bride. Mentioning my love for it was a fine panty-dropper: who knew that girls would practically trip over themselves to hear a guy whisper "As you wish"? I'd found a pair of pirate boots, black pants, black pirate shirt, a mask, and a sword while perusing the racks. I had my outfit. The Dread Pirate Roberts I would be.

I gathered up my costume pick and the discarded "magic fangirl special" and walked up to the counter. Jasper had picked out this intense Mad Hatter costume and was looking over the selection of vintage cuff links and jewelry at the counter.

"Is this your purchase, sir?"

"Yeah, um, just this one." I reached over and picked up the black pants to show the shopgirl that this was the costume I wanted, then went back over to the case that Jasper was hunched over. He had found a pair of vintage belt buckles that I swore I could hear him talking to himself over. I was just about to pack it in when I spotted a set of circular cuff links that were made from gold Chicago Transit Authority tokens.

"Anything else, sir?" I quickly picked up the token cuff links and checked out. I was starved, and we still had a lot to do. Emmett had helped me set up the DJ equipment the other night and now I needed to get food, give my playlists one last look through, and get out to the club tonight.

We got home in what felt like record time and retreated into our own respective rooms to prepare for the night. As I hung up the black garment bag against the closet door I heard the boots thud around inside. I quickly stripped and headed for the shower. Within a few moments I'd finished; I padded out to my bedroom and threw on my lucky DJ-gig boxers, ran a hand through my damp hair and went over to the closet door.

I squared myself off with the bag. I felt like it was a stand-off at the E.C. Corral. I was actually excited to get into the costume and see what everyone else was dressed in. I opened the bag and reached in to pull out the pirate pants. That's when I realized what had happened: my worst nightmare. No, worse then my worst nightmare. This is what my nightmares have nightmares about.

"No! NO! NOOOO!!!!!!" I fell to my knees and felt like weeping. This was wrong, SO very, very wrong.

Inside the bag, mocking me, was the teenage-wizard outfit.

I was so epically fucked.

Emmett McCarty was having a fucking stellar day, and he didn't even know it yet.

I quickly pulled myself up and rubbed my face. I slammed the closet door shut in anger and threw on a pair of jeans and a black tee-shirt, furious at the turn of events. I wanted to blame everything and anything. Jasper for being so fucking interested in a cheap tin belt buckle and being a fucking chatterbox the entire fucking time; the fucking shop girl for being so fucking stupid. But no: after all, I was the one who blindly just grabbed a pair of pants. I didn't check the bag before I left; I just assumed that the shoes hitting the closet door were boots, not dress shoes.

Then a thought struck. I could fix it, I knew I could. I just needed to go back to the costume shop and exchange the wizard fuckwittery for the pirate costume. So it was cutting it a little close, time-wise; I could change at the bar. I threw on my shoes, not even bothering to tie them, zipped up the garment bag, and ran down to the Volvo, chucking the bag into the back seat. I almost hit Jasper's bike when I tore out down the street towards the costume shop. How I got to the shop without the town's police officers forming a parade behind me, I will never know. I raced up to the front door of the shop only to find it locked.

"FUCK!" I yelled at the door. "FUCKING BASTARD!" I said, before launching into the kind of grand-mal hissyfit that would have made any six-year-old proud. I was livid, and I was also quite scared for my job. I knew that Ms. Hale would be angry that I didn't follow the rules, even though I hated not following the rules. She would complain to Yorkie and it would be my ass in the hot seat. I wouldn't be Yorkie's golden boy. He wouldn't give me the choice gigs. FUCK, this was so fucking unfair.

I tore open the driver side door to my precious Volvo, quietly asking it for forgivingness as if it wasn't an inanimate object. I opened reached under my seat and into the seat itself and pulled out a small white box with gold lettering that was no bigger then a deck of cards. My secret. My vice.

I quickly shut the car door and leaned against it before opening the small flap at one end of the box. Inside were a brushed silver lighter and my cigarettes. I didn't smoke often. But when I did, I just needed to be alone and let it all out. It was the one thing I had that no one else really knew about. It calmed my already fried nerves from my family and lifestyle, and it was my secret. Mine. I didn't tell anyone I did this, and honestly it wasn't any of their damn business.

My foray into my under-the-table addiction began in college. During finals, I was so stressed out that I thought I was going to crack, so one drunken night, one of Emmett's frat brothers threw me a pack of Marlboro Lights-- and the rest was history. After a stern talking-to from a very angry Emmett one night after I first got picked up at as a DJ at KNND, I took my habit underground and laid down some rules for myself. There had to be rules enabled, so I could get away with smelling like an ashtray around Mr. McCarty. Some bad memories just never fade away, and those memories that are McCarty's, are McCarty's only to tell.

I stewed outside my car for what felt like an hour, talking myself down, letting the cold December air carry away most of the cigarette. That was part of my rules: Never at home, never in the Volvo. At work, yes, but only one cigarette, and only if I had at least an hour to let the clingy smell of the smoke die down, if not dissipate completely. Finally I would have at least a change of shirt in the back of the Volvo in case the wind shifted or something like that. Never could be too careful.

I only took a drag twice; the rest of the cigarette burnt itself to the filter. I rolled the little paper tube in my fingers and stared at it like it was holding the answer to life, the universe, and everything; as if it was going to lead me to the Grail and salvation would be mine.

Who the fuck was I kidding? It was just a lit cigarette. I flicked it into the gutter and watched as the melted snow seeped into the paper and plastic fibers that made up the filter. The light was snuffed out, and suddenly I felt very akin t\o that little piece of trash.

It was going to be a long night. I didn't know what to do and I was seriously pissed off, and quite afraid that I was going to lose a good job.

What a fucking great way to start a new year.