"We'll have to find you a dress-" Lestrade had begun to say, once he, Hopkins, and Gregson had gotten through with the rest of the planning.
Hopkins had cut him off. "Don't bother. I'll handle that part. You just arrange my invitation and escort."
The older Inspectors had both looked askance at him, but it was only to be expected. They had a hard enough time wrapping their minds around his volunteering to crossdress. He just hoped they didn't think too hard about his having the materials on hand. It wasn't as if he actually kept a spare dress around his home, after all, he reflected as he stood in a cold street in one of the less glamorous London boroughs.
He knocked at the door in front of him, noting three fresh nicks in the dark wood as he did so. It wasn't a moment before the door swung open, and a flaxen-haired young woman leveled a positively ferocious green-eyed glare at him. "If I've told you once-!" she began to cry, before taking in who exactly was on her doorstep. Her fierce expression was quickly replaced by a jubilant grin. "Froggy! I thought you were old Tom Willis!"
"I must be letting myself go, if I'm starting to bear a resemblance to that old fogey."
She laughed and grabbed his arm to drag him in. "Oh, you're just as handsome as ever, Froggy. He's just been hanging about all week, banged up our door the other day when he got in a fit about something. I gave him a right proper earful for it, though, don't you worry, and beat him about the head and shoulders with a broomstick in case his hearing was acting up. Junebug, come on, it's Stanley here to pay us a visit! Oh - but this isn't official business, is it, Froggy?"
Hopkins patted her hand. "I'm afraid so, Gladys, but nothing concerning you two. June wouldn't happen to still be my size, would she?"
Gladys clapped both hands to her mouth and let out a peal of laughter that most men would have found disrespectful at best. "They wheedled you into that again, did they, Froggy?"
"Wheedled him into what?" asked the woman who had appeared at the top of the stairs: a tall, slender thing whose jet-black hair, wide eyes and tanned tone suggested an Indian heritage. "Hello, Stanley, it's good to see you again."
"Good to see you too, June," he returned before Gladys could interject.
"He needs to borrow a dress again, Ladybug."
June didn't quite manage to stifle a giggle as she looked Hopkins up and down. "I see. I think we're still about the same. When do you need it?"
"Thursday. I'm attending a gala."
"Well, that gives us a few days to get you used to corsets and heels again, doesn't it," Gladys declared with a positively wicked grin. "We'll have you a proper lady again in no time!"
Hopkins frowned pointedly at her.
*I* like Gladys and June, but I'm biased, so I have no idea how they'll come off to you folk. Though I do think I may have exaggerated Gladys just a little too much. Erk.