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Author's Note: Written for wabbitseason for Fandom Stocking.
In Her Satin Tights, Fighting For Her Rights
Number One did not understand Hallowe'en. It was an obscure Earth holiday with roots in Celtic paganism that had almost entirely been eclipsed in the mid 20th century by commercialism primarily rooted in the acquisition by small children of massive amounts of sweets.
Therefore when Phil Boyce announced a costume party would be held in Rec Room One to celebrate a holiday 99% of humans seemed to have forgot, she was shocked when Captain Pike asked her what she would be wearing.
It seemed most of the ship's senior crew not scheduled to be working a duty shift would be attending, and while her attendance was not compulsory, he seemed to expect she would be there.
She thought long and hard about what attire would be appropriate. Cait Barry seemed to think it was a perfect occasion to wear inappropriate attire, and had showed up at Number One's door half an hour before the party would due to start with a mysterious box.
"He'll love it."
"It's so... revealing."
"Please—it's no worse than a bathing suit!"
"I don't understand the boots. You say this character fought hoodlums, spies, and saboteurs in two inch heels?"
"It was during Earth's second global conflict."
"It seems highly impractical."
"It's pulp fiction. You don't get points for realism."
Number One sighed, and allowed Cait to affix the tiara in her elaborately curled dark hair.
"What is the purpose of the rope?"
"It compels anyone you hog-tie with it to tell the truth."
"This is all highly suspect."
"Shut up and let me finish your nails."
Four hours later the red and white boots had been discarded, the tiara was resting atop Pike's computer terminal, and Number One had to admit, the golden lasso did seem to have had a visible effect on the captain when she bound his hands with it.
Then again, that could have been the bustier emblazoned with a gold eagle, paired with the star-spangled briefs.
Either way, she wasn't going to question it.
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