"Trip, I've never spoken poorly of you before, not even behind your back, but I just have to say—this has to be *the* most stupid idea you've ever come up with."

"You just don't want to wear the hat." Tucker smirked as he finished adjusting what he called a retro punk-rock hat and what Archer was sure was a hideous court jester's hat.

The Captain glared at Tucker from under a halo of red and blue cotton spikes. "Damn right I don't want to wear the hat. It makes me look ridiculous."

"It used to be all the rage, Cap'n. Loosen up. This is supposed to be a party I'm throwin'."

Archer would have complained further about his costume but Tucker looked just as outrageous as he did. Other than the hat, Archer was dressed in a ratty flannel shirt and baggy jeans with multiple holes and patches. Tucker on the other hand wore a see through fishnet T-shirt and tight jeans, topped off with a dog collar and a huge hoop clip-on earring. Acher was sure their clothes could never have been in style, certainly never all at the same time. Only it was Tucker's party and it was his rules. Archer didn't quite mind the dog collar on Tucker since it showed off the younger man's slim neck. He'd have to be sure Tucker kept it for later use…

The door to the rec room opened and Archer struggled to keep a straight face. A very pissed off and embarrassed Reed was being corralled in by Mayweather. They looked just as hideous as Tucker and himself. Reed was dressed in tight leather jacket and pants with spiked hair going every which way. Mayweather sported extremely baggy navy jogging pants and a skintight white tank top, along with a baseball cap turned backwards and pulled off center. Archer also spotted a few fake tattoos now marking the darker man's arms.

"You guys look great!" Tucker said, completely thrilled by their costumes.

"I feel like a bloody idiot," Reed growled as he fussed with his leather jacket.

Mayweather stilled Reed's hands, keeping him from taking anything off. "Nice hat Captain." He suppressed a chuckle before leaning in to whisper to Reed, "See, I told you, you wouldn't be the worst dressed."

"I heard that Ensign," Archer snapped good-naturedly before shooting Tucker a look. "I'm not wearing this thing."

"Aww come on, Jon." Tucker did his best Porthos impression, whimpering and batting his eyes for the greatest effect. "Do it fer me?"

Archer sighed heavily. "You owe me."

"Oh I'll make it up to ya." Tucker grinned slyly before going over to greet more arriving guests.

"So it wasn't *you* who planted this idea into his head?" Reed asked.

"Absolutely not. I tried to get the damn thing *out* of his head for a month and I still couldn't stop him," Archer replied.

Mayweather reached over to keep Reed from smoothing out his hair, putting an arm around the shorter man to stop him from fidgeting. "I think it's a good idea. We needed an excuse to be a little silly."

"But what if something happens? Can you just picture a first contact in *these* clothes?"

"T'Pol can handle everything on the Bridge, Lieutenant." Archer was surprised to hear himself chide Reed. Perhaps Mayweather was right. Things had been dull for a while. They needed some fun.

"You boys look happy." Sato smiled as she walked up to them. The tattered pink prom dress looked completely authentic. Her hair was up but done in a haphazard style. Fishnet pantyhose and white gloves with finger cut out completed the outfit.

"Where did you get that dress, Hoshi?" Mayweather asked, impressed.

"I managed to find it in the back of my closet. It was a Halloween costume of mine a few years ago." Sato glanced over their new looks. "Nice hair Malcolm."

Reed grumbled, stepping away from Mayweather's reach and attempting to smooth his hair down. "How long is this torture supposed to last?"

"The party? Probably a few hours at least." Mayweather slapped Reed's hands away from his hair before spiking back up what Reed had managed to smooth out. "You promised you'd behave yourself."

"I'm leaving in two hours, whether the party is done with or not."

"Party pooper." Mayweather smirked as Reed shot him another look.

Archer chuckled. "I'm sure you'll feel more comfortable as the night goes on."

"This from a man in a clown hat," Reed muttered.

Sato coughed back a laugh as Archer turned a shade redder. "I'm sure Trip can find another hat for *you* too, if you like them so much."

"You like the hat, Malcolm?" Tucker asked as he returned to Archer's side. "I actually do have—"

"*No* thank you, Trip. No need to go to any trouble for me."

"Oh, no trouble." Tucker reached under one of the tables holding authentic snacks and pulled out another hat, this one a medley of yellow and orange spikes. "Here ya go."

"Thanks Commander," Mayweather answered before Reed could refuse, snatching the hat and putting it on Reed. "Goes great with the leather."

"I'm going to kill you Travis."

"Oh shut up and have some fun, love." Mayweather kissed Reed's blushing cheek as Tucker went to the middle of the crowd.

Shouting to be heard, Tucker announced, "Welcome everyone to Tripapallooza! You better be in costume or I'll dress you up myself. First up is a little Nirvana and Madonna to get us into the spirit of things."

As the music started, Archer watched Reed be dragged off to dance with Mayweather.

A moment later Tucker found Archer again and leaned in close to be heard. "Things seem to be goin' well so far. You really don't mind the hat, do you?"

"No, I can handle looking like an idiot for one night. Just remember I expect to be paid back for this little embarrassment." He tugged on Tucker's dog collar suggestively.

Tucker grinned wide before starting them toward the crowd of dancers. "Aye, Cap'n. But for now, let's bust a move."