Reese groaned awake and threw an arm across his face to shield his eyes from the bright morning sun as he tried to collect his scattered thoughts. From the pounding in his head he had either a concussion or a hangover, and sadly he was familiar enough with both that each was equally possible. He slowly sat up and removed the arm, squinting against the light as he tried to take stock of the situation. He was...in a park? Lying on a bench? And what the heck was he wearing?!

His coat lay on the grass; apparently he had been using it as a blanket and it slid off when he sat up. What he was wearing now wasn't his usual suit. Instead he was in...a white jumpsuit. A very tight white jumpsuit. He clearly had no weapons, but the jumpsuit was tight enough to show what else he was packing. The glittering rhinestones around the cuffs of the sleeves and flared legs of the suit just added insult to injury.

A loud grunting noise drew his attention away from his outfit. John peered over and saw Fusco, spread-eagled on the grass and now snoring like a buzzsaw. The other man had retained his usual dull brown suit, but it was now embellished by the addition of a pink tutu around his waist and a sparkly tiara, as well as some streamers and bits of glitter, stuck in his curly hair.

John searched frantically through his scrambled memories to try and determine just what had happened last night. There had been the New Year's toast at the bar with Harold and Loki. After those two had gone Fusco had dragged him off to a more lively sports bar. There they had gotten into a rather enjoyable fight with some loud-mouthed jerks. Their opponents must have already been very drunk as they barely managed to land a punch while stumbling all over themselves. But the broken chairs and glasses meant that they had to move to yet another location for a drink to celebrate their victory. It was after that things started to get a little hazy...

There had been music. And dancing. At one point Reese had lead a conga line with Fusco acting as the tail end. They competed in a limbo contest that neither of them had had any hope of winning (even if they had been sober). Amber from apartment 714 proved once again just how...healthy she was when she won. Which reminded Reese, he really should ask Harold how Trask was doing.

After the limbo contest there had been a karaoke contest. John wasn't sure where he got it, but at least that explained the sequined jumpsuit. He cringed as he recalled belting out "Jailhouse Rock" in commemoration of that time Donnelly put him in the slammer.

Then it was Fusco's turn. Reese found it hard to imagine, but he now had a clear memory of Fusco pirouetting across the stage as he warbled "I will Survive" (which John had never before thought of as a ballet-appropriate tune, and judging by Fusco's performance it still wasn't). Lionel had then led the audience in an enthusiastic rendition of the Macarena. John remained stationary in a sea of movement, too befuddled by events to even try and follow any of the moves. Then John's mind was finally blown as Fusco began to twerk, his gyrations emphasized by the fluttering of the pink tutu . At the end of his performance Lionel thrust both fists in the air and jumped up and down like a victorious boxer. He then launched himself off of the stage at John. Reese barely had time to get his arms up to catch his partner and hold him overhead (he had the idle thought that they must resemble the dancing crocodile and hippo from Fantasia). Then gravity took over and John slowly began to tip over backward. Only the presence of the surrounding crowd pressed tight around them saved Reese from being ignominiously crushed as they all went down in a tangle of limbs.

Then it was time for the ball to drop. Everyone got to their feet and cheered along with the countdown. As the New Year began Reese was grabbed and kissed by at least 5 women in his vicinity. From the look of Fusco's face it seemed he had also been the recipient of some celebratory kisses.

Reese grabbed his coat off of the ground and quickly covered his outfit. He then prodded Fusco awake and they both quickly left the park and headed toward the safe house. Reese wondered if he could talk the Machine into erasing any photos or video from their wild night. Purely as a means of keeping their profile low for their work with the Numbers. He would ask Harold to do it, but he didn't really want him to find out what had gone on. Assuming Harold didn't already know.

Finch was in the kitchen of the safe house cooking chili when Reese and Fusco arrived. He had thought the others might show up sometime today so he had laid in some supplies in preparation. He just hadn't expected the duo so soon, or in such a state. Although he barely caught a glimpse of them as they mumbled their greetings and then stumbled off to the bath rooms for a shower and change of clothes. They soon returned, somewhat revived by their showers and now in comfortable T-shirts and sweatpants, and then flopped onto the couch and argued over which college football game to watch on the big screen TV.

Harold put the corn dogs, pretzel bites, and cheese puffs in the oven to bake while he finished the dip for the nachos. Maybe he would take a quick browse through some surveillance video while the others watched their game...