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Nighttime ficlet for cindyjade; billy/dom, trick or treat.


“Freddy and Jason.”

Billy snorts loudly, making the children twenty feet down the aisle jump. “No.”

“Bush and Kerry.”

“You have lost your mind, Dom,” Billy sighs. “Show some creativity. I hate these stores. They’ve only got these awful commercial costumes—“

“Frodo and Sam.”

“They do not have a Sam costume.”

“No, but I made you look.” Dominic turns to Billy and leans against the shelf of fake noses and wart makeup. “Billy, it was your idea to have costumes that matched or something. You’re not being very helpful.”

“I want something different,” Billy huffs. “Not this crap. Anyone can be Harry fucking Potter—“ Dominic winces, watching the little boy down the aisle drop the wand and Gryffindor cloak he’d been holding like Christmas presents. “I want something good.”

“Right. Something different.” Dominic thinks for a moment, then drags Billy down the next aisle. “Drag?”

“No.”

“Drag’s not different?” Dominic blinks. “Is there something you’re not sharing, Billy?”

Billy swats Dominic with a Hogwart’s Sorting Hat before stomping off down the aisle. “Think outside your perverted little box, Dom. It doesn’t have to be esoteric, just … something no one else will have at the party.”

“Chucky and Tiffany.”

Billy whirls around, murder in his eyes, just in time to see Dominic yank down the Chucky mask from Child’s Play and swivel his hips in Billy’s direction.

“Dom, don’t you fucking dare—“

“Who’s—yer—Daddeh?”

“Fine,” Billy growls. “Hetty and Geoffrey.”

“Suits me,” Dominic says from under the mask, and even hidden from view, it’s obvious he’s smiling. “Provided you’re Mrs. Wainthropp.”

“I hate you. Always have, from the beginning—”

“Holmes and Watson.”

“From the moment you walked through wardrobe looking like a pockmarked skinhead—what?”

“A pockmarked what?”

“No, what did you say? Holmes and Watson?”

“Well, yes, before you insulted the fuck out of me, I said Holmes and Watson.”

“That’s good. That’s really good. I even have a coat that would work.”

“I’m sure it would, if I were willing to play now.”

Billy wrinkles his nose. “What’s your problem? And why’ve you still got that mask on?”

“Pockmarked skinhead.” Dominic snorts, pulling off the Chucky mask. “You alcoholic, balding fuck.”

“Excuse me?”

“Ther, we’re even.”

“I am not balding.”

“So Holmes and Watson. Except I get to be Holmes.”

“What? Why?”

Dominic rolls his eyes. “I’m the tall one, you’re the short one.”

Billy’s eyes widen just as the children in the next aisle peer around the corner. “Oh, well fucking done, Dom,” he sighs.

It’s Dominic’s turn to swat Billy, this time with that damned Chucky mask. “Merry and Pippin don’t curse.”

“Pippin does,” Billy nods quickly. “I say ‘shit’ once in each movie. Just because they dropped the sound out—“

“I think we should go,” Dominic interrupts, tossing the mask back on the shelf. “Holmes and Watson it is. I need a pipe. And a stupid hat.”

“And I need glasses and a bow tie,” Billy nods, putting on his sunglasses to fight the glare outside. “So where can we find things that don’t look too ridiculous, but obviously don’t belong on any normal person’s clothing in 2004?”

They stand pondering outside the costume shoppe for only a moment before turning and nodding in unison.

“Elijah’s.”


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