A week late, but hopefully better late than never? ;)

A little thing to hopefully bring a smile to Lily Moonlight's stressful week x


"Yes, but he didn't say that when he was first interviewed," Mac explained. It was nearing 8pm on Hallowe'en and he was still fighting the lab's corner with the new A.D.A. "He categorically stated to Detective Flack that he had never seen the deceased prior to the night in question."

He spun away from the expansive windows – the New York skyline shining in the moonlight - and turned to his desk, flipping the page on his evidence report.

He was running a finger down the length of the page when movement caught his eye from the corridor. He had sent everyone home hours ago to enjoy the holiday with their families and kids - on the promise that no one call in sick the next day with a hangover - so he was at a loss for who was in the lab.

His eyes focussed onto the approaching shadow. Minimal lights had been left on in the labs, just the main corridor and his office. A few computers shone that were still processing evidence and scouring databases, but mostly the building was bathed in darkness.

The A.D.A.'s words fell onto deaf ears as Mac listened intently for any sounds that may clue him into who was walking his halls past clocking-off. He slowed his breathing, calmed his heartbeat, channelled his energy. His hand rested on his desk drawer, the one containing his service pistol, when, eventually, Stella came into view.

At least, he thought it was Stella.

The woman in front of him was wearing black, patent stiletto boots that finished mid-calf, where the fishnet stockings seemingly began; a black pencil skirt with large purple and orange tuile petal-shapes hanging over the top with silver spiders, skulls and swirls stitched into the material. A black, strapless bodice looked practically painted onto her torso, again accented with silver skulls, spiders and swirls, and atop her head was the traditional black conical witch's hat, with a ring of black feathers around the brim and the occasional purple and orange to tie it into the outfit.

Her tightly curled hair suddenly had black, white and green sprayed-on highlights and her lips were the deepest red he'd ever witnessed, while her eyes were circled with thick black eyeliner and green eye-shadow, making the emerald within shine brighter than ever.

"Wow," he breathed, suddenly oblivious to the phone at his ear. She certainly had not looked like that three hours ago when he sent her home.

"You're late," she smirked, a hand falling to her hip and deep red nails tapping against her skirt. She held a brown paper bag in her other hand, but something told him that wasn't an intended addition to the costume. He had seen her in some dresses over the years but this...well...

"Give me one second, Cobb," Mac said into the phone, pressing the hold button before the other man had chance to speak. "I'm late?"

"For a very important date," she smirked. "Sheldon called. He said you hadn't turned up at Danny's place yet and was worried you might still be talking to the DA's office," she stepped closer, "I see he was right on the money."

"You go on ahead, I need to explain these results to the new Assistant District Attorney." He knew the second that she circled the desk and stood next to him that there was no point trying to refuse.

"Where are you up to?" She leant over his desk to look at the report. She didn't wear perfume to work in case it dulled her senses at a scene, so the spicy vanilla tones she now sported were a welcomed surprise to Mac. "Last page? Perfect. You'll be done in twenty."

"Yes... But... I wasn't really planning on going, Stella. I have a lot of work and Danny said it was costume only and-"

"-Mac, there is a little girl over there dressed like Alice from Wonderland who is staying awake until her favourite Uncle gets there to show off her costume."

Her hand was on her hip again. "That's blackmail."

"Yes, it is," she smirked. "It's also the truth."

He accepted defeat, his resolve slipping at the thought of little Lucy waiting for him. "I don't have a costume…"

She held up the paper bag, "Got it covered."

Before he could ask her what it was and if he should be worried, she had pressed the hold button on his phone and a confused voice began calling his name. "Er, yes, I'm back. Sorry...about that. Where, er, where were we?" He watched her place the brown bag down and perch on the edge of his desk. Her eyes were positively sparkling with mischief and he couldn't help but smile even as the fear coursed through his body.

She was about to enjoy whatever she was about to do.

He turned his attention back to the report she was sat beside, Cobb chattering in his ear. His eyeline was averted for only a second to catch up to where the voice on the phone was reading from, but in that second Stella had reached up and began to unbutton his shirt.

His eyes grew wide as he reached for her hands, his heart suddenly thumping in his chest.

She laughed, never having seen his face contorted in quite so much fear and surprise. Her voice was thick and smoky as, when leaning forward, she whispered, "Trust me."

He swallowed, his lips pursing as he released her hands. He did not like where this was heading at all.

She grinned - really quite evilly, if he thought about it- as she continued to make quick work of the buttons, enjoying the blush that was rising up his neck as he was obviously trying very hard to keep his attention on his conversation.

She was being very good, really; she had had a glass of wine when getting ready and had garnered a few looks and whistles from partiers who passed when she was walking from her car, so she was in a really good mood. Mischievous; maybe even frisky. She spread her hands across his chest and smoothed the shirt from his arms.

"That contradicts what-what he wrote in his statement," he told A.D.A Cobb, his eyes wide and questioning as she struggled to keep her laughing quiet.

He had to switch the phone between his hands and she tossed the garment onto the chair, delving deep into the bag. She pulled out a blue tee shirt with a logo and bunched it into her hands so she could pull it quickly over his head.

She rose her eyebrows, loving the silent intrigue and confusion evident on his face as she wordlessly asked him if he had time to move the phone from his ear. He held up a finger, confirmed whatever he was asked by Cobb was correct and pulled the phone away.

Stella quickly guided his head through the collar and manoeuvred so he could thread one arm through the sleeve, take the phone in the other hand and push his other arm through.

She smoothed the material down his chest and, with one hand, pulled on the waistband of his trousers so she could tuck in the tee. He jerked away, slapping at her hands and wedging the phone between his ear and shoulder; that mixture of fear and intrigue back on his face, with a sparkle of amusement for good measure. He tucked the loose material into his trousers, the coquettish smirk on her lips growing into a grin as he mumbled a confirmation over the phone.

Oh she was enjoying this.

She hooked a heel into the bottom drawer of the desk and pulled it out, reaching for his emergency supply of fresh shirts. She unbuttoned the perfectly pressed white shirt and fanned it out, holding out the sleeve.

Again, he manoeuvred the phone between his ear and shoulder to shrug his arms into the shirt, gesturing to ask whether it needed to be tucked in aswell before she had a chance to try her luck with the action. She nodded, slapping his hands when he had buttoned it up to his navel, so he tucked the tails into his trousers as well.

She pulled out a tie from the paper bag next and lassoed it around his neck, tying it very loosely. Much to his confusion, she then pulled out a can of hairspray just as he was thanking A.D.A Cobb for his time and effort on the case, mentally adding that it wouldn't hurt for him to learn how to read a DNA report, however.

"Okay, what is that for?" he asked, leaning over her to return the phone to the base.

"Hold your breath," she advised, holding out one side of his shirt. She sprayed copious amounts of the noxious aerosol onto the clothing until it stiffened into the shape she wanted, and repeated it with the other side.

Mac turned on the mini-fan from the other table to blow away the smell as she pinned the knot of the tie to one side of his shirt and handed him a pair of dark-rimmed glasses without the lenses.

"Put them on, and take a look," she smiled, very happy with the results from minimal efforts and gesturing for him to spin.

He quirked one eyebrow as he did as told, amusement tilting his lips. He turned to the reflective windows to see he had been transformed into Clark Kent, mid-transition to Superman.

"Very nice," she mused, stepping next to him. "It was either this or James Bond. And as much as I enjoy seeing you in a tux, this amused me much more!"

"Stella, I..."

"Love it?"

"Am very impressed." He traced a finger along the stiffened edges of his shirt, stuck out on either side and revealing the 'S' logo emblazened on Superman's uniform. Stella stood up,threading her arm through his as they looked at their reflections. "Though you were a little too close for comfort with the tucking in..."

Stella smirked, leaning in and adopting that husky tone she had used earlier to whisper, "Just imagine if I'd gone for the underwear-over-the-trousers look..."