Post 537: Masquerade

Stardate:71031.2000
Title: Masquerade
Author: Simon Biggs/Zanh Liis
Scene: Indy/various
Time: Just before the party
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Simon Biggs was walking down the corridors after leaving his security station for the day. He was carrying his costume suit over one arm, having worn it a little while earlier today, while running an errand for the teacher of the ship's primary school class.

He thought about how much he'd enjoyed his day already. During his lunch break, he had taken the time to replicate some party goodies for the kids on the ship- who were having their own celebration in the school room right about now- plus some models of the Independence which were to be awarded as prizes for the best costume in a contest to be held tonight.

He hoped to ask the Captain, if she wouldn't mind, to announce the winner. . .after singing out the windows. *If she refuses to come in costume,* Simon thought, *We'll find out just how off-key her singing voice really is, and Reece will have to pay up.*

Simon then headed for his quarters to change into his costume once more. As he proceeded, he spotted some kids dressed as vampires and ghosts, obviously ready for some trick or treating on the residence decks.

"Boo!" they shouted as they walked past Simon, making him jump.

Simon pretended to press his combadge, "Lieutenant Biggs to Commander N'Dura; we have ghosts and ghouls impersonating children." He heard the children laugh, and he smiled at them as he continued on his way.

Soon, Simon was in his quarters getting ready. . .

------------A short time later: Personal Quarters of February Grace-------------

"What the hell was I thinking?" Dabin Reece exclaimed, as he stared at himself in the mirror and adjusted the feather on his hat. "It seemed like such a good idea at the time."

"It's funny, that's what you wanted right? Funny?" February laughed. "I don't think I achieve funny in this thing, but here goes."

She emerged from the bathroom, wearing a shimmering, sky blue gown. It had an Empire waist, sheer sleeves, and a pair of translucent, gauzy wings affixed to the back. She wore a glittering ribbon tied in her hair, and she looked at him and shrugged.

"Well, this is as good as it gets."

"That's a good thing," Dabin replied, "If you looked any better, they'd have to drag me to Sickbay and revive me."

"You're just easily winded from our adventure on the planet," February said with a dismissive wave, trying to reach around back of her dress to straighten her left wing, which for some reason, tended to droop. Dabin stepped up behind her and helped her straighten it, smiling gently.

*No. That's not it at all.* he thought to her.

*Angel? No, not an angel,* she corrected his next thought as soon as she heard it. *Fairy, remember?* She turned around and smiled. "Thank you. Are we ready?"

"As we'll ever be."

"Did you really get Simon to promise he'll get you anything you want from the bakery if Zanh doesn't show up in costume?"

"Yup. I have faith in ol' Crinkles. She won't let us down."

"And if you lose?"

"You don't want to know."

"No, I probably don't." February replied. But then instantly, he thought the answer, and she groaned, "For two weeks? Dabin, are you serious?"

*Damn, I keep forgetting that you're in here!* Reece blushed, pointing to his forehead. "Don't worry. Zanh Liis has never failed me yet."

-----------A little while later------------

Simon walked into Seven dressed as Darth Vader, forgetting how scary he and his crew had made the place. He jumped as one of the holographic ghosts approached, and laughed at himself. They really had done a good job with this.

"Simon!" Ensign Owen approached, wearing full Batman regalia, as promised. "Everything turned out great. Good work!"

"Thank you, Bruce Wayne." Simon replied, his voice deep and distorted through his mask.

"Shhh," Owen put his hand to his mouth and lowered his voice conspiratorially. "No one is supposed to know my real name." They heard the doors open and looked up to see February Grace and Dabin Reece.

"My god," Owen gasped. "Is Reece wearing. . ."

"Lederhosen?" Simon replied, "You bet your sweet Batcave, he is."

------------------Later Still---------------------

The party was just gearing up, and Simon had made a circuit through the room, talking with his mates and congratulating those who had been promoted as well as accepting congratulations on his own promotion.

He was just about to move back toward the doors, looking for Captain Zanh, when whispers circulating the room announced that she was already here.
Simon looked toward the doors and was glad that he was wearing his Vader helmet, because it obscured the fact that his mouth was hanging open.

"You lose, Biggs!" Dabin Reece was the first to break the silence that had enveloped the room, and Zanh looked like she might turn and run for a moment, but then she caught sight of the Trill and stopped.

She looked him over, up and down from head to toe and then grabbed him by his floral-patterned suspenders.

"If you say one word to me, Reece," She warned him softly, "I will pass a regulation making it law that you have to wear those pants to work every damned day for the rest of your miserable life."

"At least I'd be wearing pants," Reece replied with a wink and a grin, unable to help himself. "Love the leotard, Liisy."

"Do not make me strangle you with the golden Lasso of Truth, Reece. I'll do it, I swear."

Ensign Owen, trying to keep his eyes level with Zanh's, smiled at her from behind his cowl. "Diana."

"Bruce." Zanh replied flatly, balling her hands up into nervous fists.

Then she turned away, cape flapping in Owen's face dramatically as she demanded, "Where the hell did Marcel Marceau go, anyway? He's going to pay for talking me into this. Morale of the crew my Bajoran. . ." Zanh mumbled the last few words, as Simon whistled softly.

Trick London came round the corner, dressed in a tuxedo, every detail of his appearance even more impeccably perfect than usual. "Worry not, Dark Lord," he reassured Simon. He held up a cup in one hand, and a pot of coffee in the other. "British Secret Service has things well under control. Zanh likes her coffee shaken, not stirred."

"Thank you, Mr. Bond." Simon replied as he pulled his helmet off, wanting to take in the scene around him with his own two eyes.

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Lt. (jg) Simon Biggs
Security Officer
USS Independence NCC-90791

and

=/\= Zanh Liis
Acting CO
USS Independence NCC-90791