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Cecil ran his fingers through his hair, watching as more dark, purplish drops fell onto the shower floor. “Carlos! Am I ever going to get all this stuff out?”
“It might take a while, but I promise it’ll rinse out eventually.”
“I’ve been washing my hair for like half an hour and there’s still more!”
“It’s been five minutes,” Carlos said, checking Cecil’s watch where it was sitting on the bathroom counter.
“I’m worried I’m going to run out of my water allowance.”
“Relax. You’ve got plenty extra water allowance saved up. You’ll be fine.”
The two had made a habit of showering together, to save water. It was less fun than one might imagine, as the whole point would be defeated if the showers took any longer than necessary, but they’d found the practice to be reasonably pleasant and efficient.
“I don’t know why I let you talk me into this.”
“Cecil, I think we’ve established that I can talk you into anything.”
For a moment, Cecil thought that maybe he’d got the last of it, that the water running through his hair was coming away clear. Then the wriggled his fingers into his hair and sighed as he saw the drips take on a dark tone once more. “Jerk,” he called out.
“Hey, absolute power corrupts absolutely! You give me that kind of control, how can you blame me when I abuse it?”
“At least you could get in here to keep me company.”
“No. I can’t risk my hair still being wet when I put that wig on. Of course, if you’d let me bleach my hair like I wanted…”
“No!” Cecil whined.
“Hair grows out, Cecil. Someday I’m gonna make you come to terms with that.” Carlos took a moment to remember Cecil’s reaction to his last haircut. “Not today, though.”
“Okay, I think I’m done here,” said Cecil after what felt like an interminably long time to him, but surprisingly brief to Carlos.
“You sure?”
“If I have to keep staring at drops of water wondering whether there’s any pigment in them for any longer I swear I will wander into the whispering forest.”
“Okay, okay. Come on out.”
Cecil turned off the water and stepped into a fluffy black towel that Carlos wrapped around him.
“How does it look?” Asked Cecil.
“Great.” Carlos handed Cecil his glasses and snapped a picture on his phone..
Cecil’s hair was… certainly very dark. Of course, it was usually a little darker after being washed but… not this dark. At least, Cecil didn’t think it was usually that dark. “We’ll have to wait for it to dry to see how it really came out…” Cecil remarked.
“I’m certain it came out perfectly,” Carlos reassured him. He grabbed another towel and applied it to Cecil’s head, trying to get a headstart on the process of evaporation. “Everyone will think you look fantastic.”
An hour later, Cecil was putting on Carlos’ favorite flannel shirt while Carlos made a mess of one of Cecil’s ties. Laughing, Cecil abandoned his buttoning halfway through and helped Carlos get the tie properly knotted. “Have you just never done this before?”
“Only on a handful of occasions. Scientists don’t have a very strict dress code.”
“There,” Cecil said, sliding the knot gently up to Carlos’ neck. “Now don’t mess with it.” He went back to buttoning his--Carlos’--shirt. It wasn’t the same flannel shirt he’d been wearing that night when the miniature city attacked. That one had been torn and bloodstained, and Carlos had thrown it away. Cecil had wailed like something inhuman when he’d found out.
Carlos’ shirt was too big for Cecil, but it didn’t look too bad.
Cecil’s shirts, though, were entirely too cramped for Carlos, so they’d had to buy a duplicate of one of Cecil’s work shirts in a larger size. Cecil had suggested simply having Old Woman Josie enlarge one, but Carlos hadn’t wanted to bother her, and he didn’t want to spoil the surprise. Also, he was wary of whatever black magic Cecil seemed to be implying that Josie would use to turn a shirt into a slightly larger shirt.
Cecil slid on Carlos’ lab coat, and Carlos put on Cecil’s glasses and a (really rather hideous) wig, and the two stared at each other for a moment.
“I… can’t really see what you look like,” said Cecil, staring at the shape on Carlos’ face that corresponded to his pair of glasses.
“Ditto.” Carlos laughed, and then, always eager to provide a solution, he set up his phone to take a picture of the two of them.
“Here,” said Carlos, giving Cecil back his glasses for a moment so they could both see what they looked like.
The costumes weren’t great. Carlos’ wig didn’t really resemble Cecil’s hair at all, and Cecil was missing Carlos’ dignified touch of grey, but their clothes were authentic, and it was clear what they were going for.
“I love it,” said Cecil.
“See? Told you it was a great idea,” Smirked Carlos.
“Are you gonna post that to Facebook?”
“Not yet. I don’t want everybody at Josie’s to see it until we get there. Now,” Carlos plucked Cecil’s glasses from his face and settled them on his own, “are you ready to go?”
Cecil nodded. Carlos led the way, walking toward the bedroom door. The door was slightly open, and Carlos wound up actually walking into it, edge-on.
“Ow,” he said, taking the glasses off and rubbing his forehead where he’d impacted. “Maybe I shouldn’t wear these while driving.” He fumbled for a lab coat pocket, couldn’t find one, and remembered that his lab coat was currently on Cecil. There was a breast pocket on the shirt he was wearing, though, so he put the glasses there, remembering that this actually was where Cecil stored his glasses when he had to take them off for brief periods. Points for accuracy, then, he thought.
Carlos took Cecil’s hand and led him out of the apartment and to his car. People were going to love their costumes.